conscience; act wholly and solely from yourself. A man who loves a
woman sincerely, as you love me, respects the sanctity of her
trust in him too deeply to dishonor himself.

"'I blame myself now for what I have written; a word might have
sufficed, and I have preached to you! Scold me; I wish to be
scolded,--but not much, only a little. Dear, between us two the
power is yours--you alone should perceive your own faults.'"

"Well, uncle?" said Octave, whose eyes were full of tears.

"There's more in the letter; finish it."

"Oh, the rest is only to be read by a lover," answered Octave,
smiling.

"Yes, right, my boy," said the old man, gently. "I have had many
affairs in my day, but I beg you to believe that I too have loved, 'et
ego in Arcardia.' But I don't understand yet why you give lessons in
mathematics."

"My dear uncle, I am your nephew; isn't that as good as saying that I
had dipped into the capital left me by my father? After I had read
this letter a sort of revolution took place within me. I paid my whole
arrearage of remorse in one day. I cannot describe to you the state I
was in. As I drove in the Bois a voice called to me, 'That horse is
not yours'; when I ate my dinner it was saying, 'You have stolen this
food.' I was ashamed. The fresher my honesty, the more intense it was.
I rushed to Madame Firmiani. Uncle! that day I had pleasures of the
heart, enjoyments of the soul, that were far beyond millions. Together