practiced on my benefactor. Many times I resolved to resume my woman's
garments, (a suit of which I always kept by me, safe under lock and
key,) fall at his feet, and confess all. But the fear that he would
spurn me, the certainty that he would drive me from his presence,
restrained me. I could not exist under his displeasure; I could not
endure life away from him.

Although he was, of course, unconscious of the intensity of the feeling
with which I regarded him, he knew--for I did not conceal it--that I was
much attached to him; and I was aware that I, or rather Eugene, was very
dear to him. On one occasion, as we sat together in the study, he said
to me, abruptly:

'How old are you, Eugene?'

'Twenty-two,' I answered.

He sat silent for some moments; then he said:

'If I had married in my early years, I might have had a son as old as
you. Take my advice, Eugene, marry early; form family ties; then your
old age will not be lonely as mine is.'

'O my dear master!' cried I, safe under my disguise, 'no son could love
you as dearly as I do. A son would leave you to win a place for himself
in the world; but your faithful Eugene will cling to you through life;
he only asks to remain with you always--always.'

'My good Eugene!' said my master, grasping my hand warmly, 'your words
make me happy. I am a lonely man, and the affection which you, a