way. Are not such
things like the flower of wild fruits, bitter-sweet, grown in the heart
of a forest, the joy of the scant sun-rays, the joy, as Canalis says in
the "Maiden's Song," of the plant itself whose eyes unclosing see its
own image within its breast?

Such emotions, now taking place in La Briere, tend to show that, like
other poor fellows for whom life begins in toil and care, he had never
yet been loved. Arriving at Havre overnight, he had gone to bed at once,
like a true coquette, to obliterate all traces of fatigue; and now,
after taking his bath, he had put himself into a costume carefully
adapted to show him off to the best advantage. This is, perhaps, the
right moment to exhibit a full-length portrait of him, if only to
justify the last letter that Modeste was still to write to him.

Born of a good family in Toulouse, and allied by marriage to the
minister who first took him under his protection, Ernest had that air of
good-breeding which comes of an education begun in the cradle; and the
habit of managing business affairs gave him a certain sedateness which
was not pedantic,--though pedantry is the natural outgrowth of premature
gravity. He was of ordinary height; his face, which won upon all who saw
him by its delicacy and sweetness, was warm in the flesh-tints, though
without color, and relieved by a small moustache and imperial a la
Mazarin. Without this evidence of virility he might have resembled a
young woman in disguise, so refined was the shape of his face and the
cut of his lips, so feminine the transparent ivory of a set of teeth,
regular enough to have seemed artificial. Add to these womanly points a
habit of speech as gentle as the expression of the face; as gentle,
too, as the blue eyes with their Turkish eyelids, and you will readily
understand how it was that the minister occasionally called his young
secretary Mademoiselle de La Briere. The full, clear forehead, well
framed by abundant black hair, was dreamy, and did not contradict the
character of the face, which was altogether melancholy. The prominent
arch of the upper eyelid, though very beautifully cut, overshadowed
the glance of the eye, and added a physical sadness,--if we may so call
it,--produced by the droop of the lid over the eyeball. This inward
doubt or eclipse--which is put into language by the word modesty--was
expressed in his whole person. Perhaps we shall be able to make his
appearance better understood if we say that