"So you make a solitude and call it peace," said the lady, with a slight
smile. "For my part, my perfect life would be a large and beautiful
village. I admire Nature, but I require the presence of humanity. Life
in great cities is too exhausting; but in my village there should be
air, streams, and beautiful trees, a picturesque scene, but enough of my
fellow-creatures to insure constant duty."

"But the fulfilment of duty and society, founded on what you call the
principle of exclusion, are not incompatible," said Lothair.

"No, but difficult. What should be natural becomes an art; and in every
art it is only the few who can be first rate."

"I have an ambition to be a first-rate artist in that respect," said
Lothair, thoughtfully.

"That does you much honor," she replied, "for you necessarily embark in
a most painful enterprise. The toiling multitude have their sorrows,
which, I believe, will some day be softened, and obstacles hard to
overcome; but I have always thought that the feeling of satiety, almost
inseparable from large possessions, is a surer cause of misery than
ungratified desires."

"It seems to me that there is a great deal to do," said Lothair.

"I think so," said the lady.

"Theodora," said the colonel, who was a little in advance with the
professor, and turning round his head, "this reminds me of Mirabel," and
he pointed to the undulating banks covered with rare shrubs, and