d occasionally enter the study
where I sat writing almost incessantly, and I saw more than one to whom
I had applied in the days of my misery, and been rejected. But happily
no one recognized me.

My kind master expressed great astonishment at my proficiency in
Sanscrit, and frequently declared my services to be invaluable to him. I
was sometimes able to render a passage which he had given up as
intractable; and he more than once asserted that my name should appear
on the title-page as well as his own. My name? Alas! I had no name.

My master frequently chid me for my unceasing devotion to my work; and
would sometimes playfully come behind, as I sat writing, snatch the
manuscript from my desk, and substitute in its place some new and
popular book, or some time-honored French classic, to which he would
command me to give my whole attention for the next two hours, on pain of
his displeasure.

His kindness to me knew no bounds. He ordered Dominique and the boy Jean
to treat me with as much respect as himself. He took me with him to the
Oriental lectures of the Bibliotheque du Roi. He procured for me the
_entree_ to the discussions of several literary and scientific bodies,
and afforded me every facility for the improvement of my mind and the
development of my powers. He introduced me to all that was noblest and
best in the great aristocracy of intellect, and constantly spoke of me
as a young man of great promise, who would one day be heard of in the
world.

He used to rally me on my studious habits, and often expressed surprise
that a young man of my years should not seek the society of his
compeers, and especially of that _other sex_, to which the heart of
youth usually turns with an irresistible, magnet-like attraction. Little
did he dream that the person he addressed belonged to that very sex of
which he spoke.

One day he startled me by saying: 'What pretty hair you have, Eugene; it
is as soft and fine as that of a young girl.'

The conscious blush rushed to my face, for I thought he had surely
discovered my secret; but one glance at his calm countenance reassured
me. In his large, open, honest heart there never entered a suspicion of
the 'base deception' that had been practiced upon him.

He did not notice my emotion, and I answered, in as calm a voice as I
could command: 'My mother had fine, soft hair; I have inherited it from
her.'

Thus passed a year, the happiest I had ever known. My master became
kinde