nstairs, he felt
like fleeing from the house without speaking to him.

Not knowing the nature of Gaston's feelings, whether he was hastening
toward him in anger or brotherly love, he stood perfectly motionless.
But one glance at his brother's face convinced him that he was the same
affectionate, credulous, trusting Gaston of old; and, now that he was
certain that his brother harbored no suspicions, he smilingly received
the demonstrations lavished upon him.

"After all," continued Gaston, "I am not alone in the world; I shall
have someone to love, someone to care for me."

Then, as if suddenly struck by a thought, he said:

"Are you married, Louis?"

"No."

"That is a pity, a great pity. It would so add to my happiness to see
you the husband of a good, affectionate woman, the father of bright,
lovely children! It would be a comfort to have a happy family about me.
I should look upon them all as my own. To live alone, without a loving
wife to share one's joys and sorrows, is not living at all: it is a sort
of living death. There is no joy equal to having the affection of a true
woman whose happiness is in your keeping. Oh the sadness of having only
one's self to care for! But what am I saying? Louis, forgive me. I
have you now, and ought not that to be enough? I have a brother, a kind
friend who will be interested in me, and afford me company, instead of
the weariness of solitude."

"Yes, Gaston, yes: I am your best friend."

"Of course you are. Being my brother, you are naturally my true friend.
You are not married, you say. Then we will have to do the best we
can, and keep house for ourselves. We will live together like two old
bachelors, as we are, and be as happy as kings; we will lead a gay life,
and enjoy everything that can be enjoyed. I feel twenty years younger
already. The sight of your face renews my youth, and I feel as active
and strong as I did the night I swam across the swollen Rhone. And that
was long, long ago. The struggles, privations, and anxieties endured
since, have been enough to age any man. I feel old, older than my
years."

"What an idea!" interrupted Louis: "why, you look younger than I do."

"You are jesting."

"I swear I think you look the younger."

"Would you have recognized me?"

"Instantly. You are very little changed."

And Louis was right. He himself had an old, worn-out, used-up
appearance; while Gaston, in spite of his gray hair and weather-beaten
face, was a robus