Moriaz found it hard to decide whether this news was good or bad news.

All depended on what point of view was taken, and she changed hers every hour.
Since his mishap, M.Moriaz had become less rash than formerly.
Experience had taught him that there are treacherous rocks that can be climbed without much difficulty, but from which it is impossible to descend--rocks exposing one to the danger of ending one's days in their midst, if there is no Pole near at hand.

Certain truths stamp themselves indelibly on the mind; so M.Moriaz never ventured again on the mountains without being attended by a guide, who received orders from Antoinette not to leave him, and not to let him expose himself.

One day he came in later than usual, and his daughter reproached him, with some vivacity, for the continual anxiety he caused her.

"The glaciers and precipices will end by giving me the nightmare," she said to him.
"Pray on whose account, my dear ?" he playfully rejoined.