if, in the lottery of life, he draws the prize of a healthy stomach
without a mind, that it is better than a fine intellect with a crazy
stomach. I had drawn the healthy stomach--liver, lungs, and heart to
match--and had never felt dissatisfied with my prize. Now, however, it
seemed expedient that I should give some hours each day to reading; for
so far my conversations and close intimacy with the people of the house
had not dissipated the cloud of mystery in which their customs were hid;
and by customs I here refer to those relating to courtship and matrimony
only, for that was to me the main thing. The books I read, or dipped
into, were all highly interesting, especially the odd volumes I looked
at belonging to that long series on the _Houses of the World_, for
these abounded in marvelous and entertaining matter. There were also
histories of the house, and works on arts, agriculture, and various
other subjects, but they were not what I wanted. After three or four
hours spent in these fruitless researches, I would proceed to the
Mother's Room, where I was now permitted to enter freely every
afternoon, and when there, to remain as long as I wished. It was so
pleasant that I soon dropped into the custom of remaining until
supper-time compelled me to leave it, Chastel invariably treating me now
with a loving tenderness of manner which seemed strange when I recalled
the extremely unfavorable impression I had made at our first interview.

It was never my nature to be indolent, or to love a quiet, dreamy
existence: on the contrary, my fault had lain in the opposite direction,
unlimited muscular exercise being as necessary to my well-being as fresh
air and good food, and the rougher the exercise the better I liked it.
But now, in this novel condition of languor, I experienced a wonderful
restfulness both of body and mind, and in the Mother's Room, resting as
if some weariness of labor still clung to me, breathing and steeped in
that fragrant, summer-like atmosphere, I had long intervals of perfect