sunken eyes, which no longer shed a gladsome light over the whole
face. I involuntarily peruse him as a record of my heavy youth,
which has been wasted in sluggishness for lack of hope and impulse,
or equally thrown away in toil that had no wise motive and has
accomplished no good end. I perceive that the tranquil gloom of a
disappointed soul has darkened through his countenance, where the
blackness of the future seems to mingle with the shadows of the
past, giving him the aspect of a fated man. Is it too wild a
thought that my fate may have assumed this image of myself, and
therefore haunts me with such inevitable pertinacity, originating
every act which it appears to imitate, while it deludes me by
pretending to share the events of which it is merely the emblem and
the prophecy? I must banish this idea, or it will throw too deep an
awe round my companion. At our next meeting, especially if it be at
midnight or in solitude, I fear that I shall glance aside and
shudder; in which case, as Monsieur du Miroir is extremely sensitive
to ill-treatment, he also will avert his eyes and express horror or
disgust.

But no; this is unworthy of me. As of old I sought his society for
the bewitching dreams of woman's love which he inspired, and because
I fancied a bright fortune in his aspect, so now will I hold daily
and long communion with hint for the sake of the stern lessons that
he will teach my manhood. With folded arms we will sit face to
face, and lengthen out our silent converse till a wiser cheerfulness
shall have been wrought from the very texture of despondency. He
will say, perhaps indignantly, that it befits only him to mourn for
the decay of outward grace, which, while he possessed it, was his
all. But have not you, he will ask, a treasure in reserve, to which
every year may add far more value than age or death itself can