DEDICATION
To Mademoiselle Anna Hanska:
Dear Child,—You, the joy of
the household, you, whose pink or white pelerine
flutters in summer among the groves of Wierzschovnia
like a will-o’-the-wisp, followed by the tender
eyes of your father and your mother,—how
can I dedicate to you a story full of melancholy?
And yet, ought not sorrows to be spoken of to a
young girl idolized as you are, since the day may come
when your sweet hands will be called to minister
to them? It is so difficult, Anna, to find
in the history of our manners and morals a subject
that is worthy of your eyes, that no choice has been
left me; but perhaps you will be made to feel how
fortunate your fate is when you read the story sent
to you by
Your
old friend,
De
Balzac.
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