foster our wearisome quibbling. My character was being more and more
spoilt by it; and though it afforded my uncle even greater pleasure than
myself, his health suffered as a result, and the childish passions daily
aroused were no doubt hastening his decay. The abbe was suffering from
_ennui_; Edmee was depressed. Whether in consequence of our mode of life
or owing to causes unknown to the rest, it was her wish to go, and we
went; for her father was uneasy about her melancholy, and sought only to
do as she desired. I jumped for joy at the thought of seeing Paris; and
while Edmee was flattering herself that intercourse with the world
would refine the grossness of my pedantry, I was dreaming of a triumphal
progress through the world which had been held up to such scorn by our
philosophers. We started on our journey one fine morning in March; the
chevalier with his daughter and Mademoiselle Leblanc in one post-chaise;
myself in another with the abbe, who could ill conceal his delight at
the thought of seeing the capital for the first time in him life; and my
valet Saint-Jean, who, lest he should forget his customary politeness,
made profound bows to every individual we passed.




XII

Old Bernard, tired from talking so long, had promised to resume his
story on the morrow. At the appointed hour we called upon him to keep
his word; and he continued thus:


This visit marked a new phase in my life. At Sainte-Severe I had been
absorbed in my love and my work. I had concentrated all my energies upon