Conscience -- Volume 4

th Phillis, Saniel wished th

o draw nearer each day, she could not give up her lessons and her work, which was her daily bread, to give all her time to her love, any

m as long as she wished and he asked. When she rose to go and he detained her, she remained, but it was only fo

ind him at their next meeting, strong and powerful, as sound in body as in mind. On the contrary, now she worried herself, wondering how she would find him on the occasion of each visit. Would the sadness, melancholy, and dejection still remain? Would he be thinner and paler? It was her care, her anguish, to try to divine the causes of the change in him, which manifested itself as strongly in his sentiments as in his person. Was it not truly extraordinary that he was more grave and uneasy now that his life was assured than during the hard times when he was so worried that he never knew what

come anaemic; it is not serious. It is strange, truly, that you ask for explanations of what is natural. Count the teeth of the polytechnicians and look at their hair after their examinations, and

she did not know the meaning of the medical terms he used, but she found that this was not sufficient to explain all-neither his roughness of t

asking him stupid questions on certain subjects which she had not yet determined on, but which she hoped to avoid. Also, she did not wish to l

ng his bell with a hand

ill to-morrow," she sa

d express his joy by an e

ou goi

t thinking of myself

cousin of ours arrived from the country, who will occupy my bed, and I profite

During the day he would only betray himself by his sad or fantastic temper; but at nig

he find to say, "Go! I do not want you?" He wanted her above all; he wanted to look at her, to listen to her, to hear her voi

ion, standing at the entrance of the office, not daring to remove her hat.

ake off your

myself if yo

u ask your

of distu

violently. "What do you expect me to say? What astonishes you? Why

these explosions surprised her

said. "What will you?

w that he had nothing to forgive in her, since she was the victim and he the criminal.

is arms and made

ou to forgiv

ld have suspicions, and the surest way to give birth to them was to show fear that she had them

him to the danger of talking in his sleep-he would not sleep. After having passed so man

t is the matter?" he cried. "What have I said?" Instantly his face paled, his lips quivered; he felt his heart beat tumultuously and his throat pressed by painful constriction. "But nothing is the matter," she answered, looking at him tenderly. "You have said nothing." To come to the point, why should he have spoken? During his frightful dreams, his nights of disturbed sleep, he might have cried out, but he did not know if he had ever done so. And besides, he had not just waked from an agitated sleep. All thi

athed

always!" he murmured, as

a sad smile; then, placing his arm arou

little

she been able, until hearing these words, to measure the depth of the love that she

ssionately to h

little

in her happiness,

om him gently, and looking

word tell y

me that yo

s that

t, I feel it. You give me the gr

enough

the misfortune of our life that we are obliged to separate at t

uld we s

ma? And da

mother. If you need no lo

raying the direction of her thoughts except by a tremb

you becom

my be

you

arms, fainting; but aft

impossible,"

impos

; do not oblig

ntrary, I wish

in a voice that was scarcely p

brot

nt of your brother that

hink me the man to submit