CHAPTER IX
But next day Yosef after a perfect sleep was quite calm; he even laughed at the previous day and at his own alarms and fears.
"Many pretty phrases are uttered," said he to himself, "but are they reality? Only a fool regrets happiness. Gustav is the best proof of this. What good is feeling, though the strongest, though the most manly, when purchased at the cost of life? Besides, I am little fitted for tragedy. I love Helena, and she me. What is that to any one? Augustinovich, rise, O scapegrace! tell me what hundred-tongued Satan has turned the head of some brown parasol by means of thee?" "Didst thou see her face?" inquired Augustinovich, forcing himself to sigh.
"I did, and by Jove, it was like a freshly plucked radish the mother looked like a bowl of sour milk. Well, art thou in love, old man?"
"Be quiet! those are very rich ladies."
"Both? How much has the daughter?"
