and after she had paid her compliments to the last lingerer, she returned to her fire-place, when she found the old gentleman tranquilly seated in an armchair, with the pertinacity of a fly, which you are compelled to crush to get rid of. The finger of the clock marked two hours after midnight.

"Madame," said the count, at the instant the lady rose, as if with the intention that her guest should take the hint that she wished his absence. "I am Octave de Champs' uncle."

Madame Firmiani hastily resumed her seat, and was evidently agitated. But, in spite of his perspicacity, the sagacious philosopher could not define the character of her paleness, whether it arose from embarrassment, or delight. There are pleasures whose thoughts we scarcely dare entertain without an involuntary blush; delicious emotions which the purest heart would veil in its recesses, and with which a stranger should not intermeddle. The more delicate and sensitive the heart of a woman, the more she would desire to hide the transports of her soul. There are many women, incomprehensible in their enchanting caprices, who delight to hear on the lips of all the world that cherished name which at other times they would desire to bury in the precious sanctuary of their heart of hearts. M. de Rouxellay did not interpret altogether in this manner the emotion of Madame Firmiani; but the old man was distrustful by nature.

"Well, sir?" rejoined Madame Firmiani, fixing upon him one of those clear and lucid glances by which we men are always baffled, because their scrutiny is too searching, and our respect for a woman prevents our returning it too sternly.

66

"Well, madame?" repeated the count, are you aware of what they have taken the pains to come and tell me in the distant corner of the province in which I reside? That my nephew loves you, and has squandered his fortune upon you! The unfortunate is now shivering in a garret, while I see you surrounded with gold and silk. You will excuse my rustic frankness, for it may be of advantage to your character that you should know the calumnies-"

"Stop, sir," said Madame Firmiani, interrupting the gentleman by a commanding gesture, "I am apprised of every thing you would teach me; and

you are too polite to continue a conversation on a subject painful to me. You are too gallant, (in the ancient acceptation of the term," she added, throwing a slight accent of irony on the word,) "not to admit that you have no right to question me, and that it would be unseemly in me to justify myself. I hope you have that good opinion of my character to conceive the supreme contempt I feel for money. I do not know whether your nephew be rich or poor; if I have admitted, or continue to receive him here, I looked upon him as worthy of being ranged among my friends, who all look with respect upon each other, as they know I do not push my philosophy so far as to permit the visit of those I do not esteem. Perhaps I am deficient in christian charity; but my guardian angel has inspired me hitherto with a profound disdain for malicious and mischievous tattling."

The melody of her voice was slightly affected during the concluding sentence of her reply, and the last words were uttered with the satirical calmness with which Celimene rallies the misanthrope in Moliere's play.

"Madame," continued the count, with tremulous tones, "I am an old man, and I look upon myself as Octave's father; I therefore ask your pardon, beforehand, for the sole question I shall take the liberty of proposing to you. I pledge you the word of an honourable man that your answer shall lie here," he added, placing his hand upon his heart with an emphatically religious gesture-" do you love Octave? has scandal any grounds for that report."

"Sir," answered Madame Firmiani, "I should answer any other person with one single look; but to you, and because you are the father of Monsieur de Champs, I will inquire of you, what you would think of a woman who answered-yes-to such a question? To acknowledge our love to him we worship, when he loves us, even when we are certain that we are loved by him; believe me, sir, even this costs an effort, although it is a reward, and a rapture. But to any other person

She did not finish her sentence, but rose from her seat, saluted her visiter, and disappeared.

"Ah!" muttered the old man to himself, "what a woman! she is either a sly one, or an angel!"

Next morning, at eight o'clock, the

old gentleman ascended the staircase of an humble-looking dwelling in the remote and obscure street, where his nephew dwelt. If any one was ever surprised, it was the young professor at the sight of his uncle. The key was in the lock, and his lamp was still burning; he had been up all night.

"Mr. Farceur," said M. de Valesnes, (seating himself in the only spare chair in the room,) "how long has it been the custom for nephews to play tricks upon uncles, whose heirs they are, more especially when these uncles have ten thousand dollars per annum? Do you know that these relatives, once upon a time, used to be respected. Let us see; have you any thing to reproach me? Have I neglected my business of uncle? Have I ever insisted upon your paying me an unreasonable degree of deference ? Have I ever refused you money? Have I ever shut the door in your face, under the pretext that you only came to see how long I was likely to live? Have I not always demeaned myself as the most accommodating and least exacting uncle that there is in France? not to say Europe, for that would be too ambitious. You wrote to me or not, according to your convenience; and I lived on satisfied of your affection, and managed one of the prettiest estates in the province for you. It is true, that I wished you to enter into possession as late as possible; but that is no crime, and a very excusable frailty in an old man! And all this time, you sell your estate, lodge like a footman, and have no longer any equipage, or retinue !"

"My dear uncle-"

"I am not talking about uncles, but about nephews! I have a right to be in your confidence, so begin your confession immediately and fully: it is the easiest way, as I know by experience. Have you gambled? Have you been taken in at the stock exchange? Come now, say to me: Uncle, I am a wretched, ruined man'—and we will kiss and be friends. But, if you tell me one bigger lie than I used to tell at your age, I will sell my property, put you out upon a weekly pension, and resume all my bad habits of youth-if I can.' 66 My dear uncle-" "Ah! I saw your Madame Firmiani last night."

So saying, M. de Valesnes imitated the manners of a young man, and kissed the tip of his fingers as if he was blowing

My good uncle," replied Octave, "here is a letter which will acquaint you with every thing. When you have read it, I will go on with my narrative, and you will begin to understand a woman whose parallel has never yet trod the earth."

66

"I have forgot my spectacles," observed the old man ; so do you read it." Octave commenced thus:-" My best beloved!-"

"This woman is yours, then?" "Most assuredly, uncle." "And you have had no quarrel?" "Quarrel!" repeated the young man with surprise, "why, we have not yet been married three months!"'

"Well," inquired his uncle, "Why do you dine every day for a shilling?" "Let me go on with the letter, and you will learn."

"That is true; go on."

Octave resumed the letter, and it was not without the most agitated feelings. that he read certain sentences of it.

"MY BEST BELOVED AND DARLING HUSBAND-You asked me why I was melancholy? Has then a shadow passed from my soul upon my countenance; or have you only fancied it? Why should it not be so? For our hearts beat so in unison together. But I cannot lie, or conceal my emotions. Is it not a misfortune? One of the conditions of a woman who is loved, is to be always caressing and cheerful. I might, perhaps, succeed in deceiving you; but I would not do so, even though it should preserve or enhance the bliss which you cause me, which I enjoy so rapturously,

and by which my heart and soul are intoxicated. Dearest, how much gratitude there is in my love! Therefore I would love you always, and boundlessly. Yes, I would desire to be always proud of you. A woman's glory is centred altogether in her lover. Esteem, consideration, and honour, all belong to him who has obtained every thing else of her. Well, then, my dearest has been a delinquent in one thing; yes, your last confidence has tarnished all my former exultation and joy. Since that moment, I feel humiliated on your account; you whom I looked upon as the most faultless of men, as you are the most loving and tender. I know I ought to have the most implicit confidence in your young heart, to make you such an avowal; and you know not how much it costs me. What! your father acquired his fortune unjustly and by fraud? and you know it and yet retain it? And you told me this tale, worthy of a debased pettifogger, in a room full of the silent and conscious witnesses of our love! And all this time you call yourself a gentleman and a noble! You are the master of my heart and hand! and you are twenty-two years old! How many dreadful inconsisten. cies! I have sought for excuses to justify you. I attributed your indifference to the thoughtlessness of careless youth. I know there is much of infantile openness in you. Perhaps you have not yet thought seriously of what fortune and honour consist of! Oh, what a pang your light laugh occasioned me! But reflect that there now exists a ruined family always in tears; that there are, probably, young women who curse you every day; or an old man, who repeats to himself- I should not be without bread had not M. de Champ's father been a dishonest man!' My Octave, there is no power on earth with authority to change the plain and simple language of probity. Call your conscience to witness, and ask it by what name it would designate the action to which you owe your gold. I will not tell you all the thoughts which oppress my heart; they can be reduced to one, and it is this-I cannot esteem a person who sullies himself, knowingly, for money, however large may be the amount. A hundred cents cheated at cards, or ten times a hundred thousand dollars acquired by legal injustice, are equally dishonourable to a man. I will and must tell you all! I consider myself stained by those caresses which were

once my only happiness. From the bottom of my soul there rises a still small voice which I cannot silence, and which calls incessantly. Oh! how I have wept to think that my conscience was stronger than my love. You might commit a crime, and I would shelter you from human justice in my bosom, if I could, but my devotion could go no farther. Love in a woman's soul, my darling, is composed of the most unbounded confidence, united with an indefinable necessity of venerating and worshipping the object to which it belongs. I have never thought of love but as a sacred flame, by which the noblest sentiments were refined; a fire which separated, purified, and developed them all. I have but one word more to add. Come to me poor and destitute; and then my love for you will be doubted, if such a thing were possible; if you dissent, renounce me altogether. If I never see you more, my course is decided. But understand me; I do not desire you to make restitution on account of my advising it. Consult your conscience rather. This mere act of justice should not be looked upon as a sacrifice offered to love. I am your wife; and it is not so important to please and to pacify me, as to inspire me with a profound esteem for you. But if I am mistaken-if I have misunderstood your father's conduct-and even if you should think you have the least claim to your fortune, (and, oh! how I long to persuade myself that you are blameless,) decide by listening to the accents of your own conscience; and act by your own impulse. A man who loves sincerely, as you love me, has too great a respect for the holy confidence reposed in him by his wife, to be dishonourable. I begin to blame myself for all that I have written. One word, perhaps, would be enough! My instinctive scrupulosity may have carried me too far. Then scold me, not too severely, but a little. Have you not, dearest, the authority? You only ought to perceive your faults. Now, adored master, can you say that your scholar is ignorant of subtle distinctions?"

"What say you now, uncle?" asked Octave, while his eyes were swimming with tears.

"But there is some more writing. Continue, and read all.”

"Oh! the rest is nothing but what lovers write, and which lovers only should read."

"Good," said M. de Valesnes, "very good, my child. I have had a good deal of intercourse with the sex; and I would have you know that I have loved in my time. Et ego in Arcadiá. But I cannot understand what drove you to give lessons in the mathematics."

"My dear uncle, I am your nephew. Is not this enough to tell you that I had encroached a little upon the capital which my father left me. When I had finished that letter, an entire revolution took place in me. It is not possible to describe the state of mind I was in. When I drove my cabriolet, a voice whispered to me is that horse yours?' When I dined, it repeated: is not that dinner a stolen meal?' I was ashamed of my self; and the younger my probity was, the more was it ardent and earnest. I flew to Madame Firmiani; and oh! dear uncle, what a day of heartfelt pleasure, of that transport of soul which millions could not purchase! We calculated together the amount I owed to the unknown, but suffering family. Contrary to the opinion of Madame Firmiani, I condemned myself to pay three per cent. interest since my father's death. But

my entire fortune did not suffice to defray the sum. Then, we were both of us loving enough, she to offer, and I to accept, her savings. What an hour of rapture!"

"What!" exclaimed the uncle, "besides her other virtues, is this adorable creature an economist also !"

"Do not laugh at us, uncle," said the young man. "Her position compels her to exercise much caution and management. Her husband left her, some years ago, for Greece, where he died three years back. Until this day, it has been impracticable to obtain legal proof of his decease, and to get possession of the will which he must have made in favour of his wife, which was either destroyed, or lost by his Albanian servants. Not knowing whether she may not be called upon to account with ill-natured heirs-at-law, she is obliged to observe a most rigid economy. Should the necessity happen, she wishes to leave her wealth in the same manner as Chateaubriand relinquished the ministry. Therefore, I want to gain a fortune which should be mine, the work of mine own hands, to endow my wife with, should things turn out unfavourably."

“And you never informed me of this; and never applied to me? Nephew, you

should have known that I love you well enough to pay all your honourable debts, which a gentleman may contract. I will be revenged of you."

"I know the vengeance you have in store for me, but let me enrich myself by my own industry. At this moment I am so happy, that my only care is how to subsist. You understand that if I give lessons, it is to avoid being a burden to any one. If you could but realise the pleasure with which I made the restitution! After much trouble, I succeeded in discovering the ruined and impoverished family, destitute of everything. They lived at St. Germain's, in a dilapidated cottage, where the old father had a little lottery-office; his two daughters took care of the household, and kept the accounts; the mother was bedridden. The daughters were exquisitely beautiful; but they had learned the bitter lesson, what little value the world attaches to beauty when without fortune or portion. What a picture I witnessed! but if I entered as an accomplice in guilt, I retired an honest man. My adventure is a true drama! To have come upon them like Providence; to have realized one of those vague and halfformed wishes-Oh! that ten thousand francs a-year would fall down from heaven!'-that wish which we form with a bitter smile; language fails to describe the scene that ensued. My rigorous justice appeared unjust even to the parties that profited by it. If there is a paradise, my father ought to be supremely happy in it. As for me, I am loved as never mortal was. Madame Firmiani has given me more than happiness; she has endowed me with an exquisite delicacy of thought and feeling, in which, perhaps, I was deficient. Therefore, I call her my dear conscience; one of those names of love, which respond to certain secret harmonies of the soul. Honesty is the best policy; and I expect to get rich speedily by my own exertions. I am now employed upon a problem in mechanics; if I succeed, I shall gain millions by the application of it."

At this moment, notwithstanding the distance from the pavement to the garret of M. Octave de Champs, both uncle and nephew distinctly heard the rumbling of a carriage, which stopped at the gate.

"It is her," said the young man ; "I know it by the sound of her horses' feet, which I have studied."