natural, that a man needn't be your 'wise friend' to
understand it."

"Oh! no," she answered thoughtfully, "that's not exactly it. Do you
know that I've more than once commenced a note to you, to tell you
where I was to be found. Then I tore it up again. Silence seemed to me
wiser for us both; wiser for me, that I might wean myself in time from
that most dangerous luxury: a friend; and wiser for you, because some
day you might get tired of being my '_wise friend_,' and then the
affair would end in a way I would fain spare you. You smile. So much
the better, if you find no danger in it. Besides, it would now be too
late; you've found me again, probably your friend the doctor, who saw
me at the window yesterday, tattled. I'm very glad you're here. You
can't imagine what tiresome hours I've spent, almost always sad or
listless."

"Where did you wish to go?"

"Yes, where? That was just the question. Back to my commonplace
poverty--ah! at the thought a cold shudder ran over me, as if I were
about to jump into a marsh and sink up to my neck. To stoop to the yoke
of a governess, here in the city, where I've lived as a great lady,
seemed terrible too. So I shall live on in this way a few weeks longer,
and then when the last louis d'or is exhausted, close my eyes, and dare
a plunge--into the great nothing. Or do you believe that there is a
something?"

"No," he answered quietly. "And for that very reason, it seems to me
folly to hastily throw away the something we possess here."

"Hastily? How long is one to wait? When would you permit a person, who
did not find this something worth the trouble it costs, to take refuge
in nothing?"

"When he quite despairs of being anything in the world, of making
himself useful or giving pleasure to himself or anybody else."

"Well then--in that case, you might without hesitation sign my passport
for departure. For that _I_ am an utterly useless creature, and at the
utmost can only afford Jean Jacques a little pleasure when I give him
five groschen to feast at a cake shop--"

The tears that she had vainly endeavored to repress, burst forth, yet
she did not turn away from him, but stood at the little table before
the sofa, resting both slender hands on its polished surface as if to
support herself, while large drops fell from her black lashes.

Edwin watched her with the deepest sympathy. He was obliged to use the
greatest self control, to refrain from standing up and clasping her in