alas it is my fault--my misfortune. I have not
been in the midst of a world that perhaps rings of thy name."

"Not my name. Prudence compelled me to conceal that. Still, Genius
pierces under any name. You might have discovered me under my nom de
plume."

"Pardon me--I was always bete. But, oh! for so many weeks I was so
poor--so destitute. I could go nowhere, except--don't be ashamed of
me--except--"

"Yes? Go on."

"Except where I could get some money. At first to dance--you remember
my bolero. Then I got a better engagement. Do you not remember that you
taught me to recite verses? Had it been for myself alone, I might have
been contented to starve. Without thee, what was life? But thou wilt
recollect Madeleine, the old bonne who lived with me. Well, she had
attended and cherished me since I was so high-lived with my mother.
Mother! no; it seems that Madame Surville was not my mother after all.
But, of course, I could not let my old Madeleine starve; and therefore,
with a heart as heavy as lead, I danced and declaimed. My heart was not
so heavy when I recited thy songs."

"My songs! Pauvre ange!" exclaimed the Poet.

"And then, too, I thought, 'Ah, this dreadful siege! He, too, may
be poor--he may know want and hunger;' and so all I could save from
Madeleine I put into a box for thee, in case thou shouldst come back to
me some day. Mon homme, how could I go to the Salle Favre? How could
I read journals, Gustave? But thou art not married, Gustave? Parole
d'honneur?"

"Parole d'honneur! What does that matter?"

"Everything! Ah! I am not so mechante, so mauvaise tete as I was some
months ago. If thou went married, I should say, 'Blessed and sacred be
thy wife! Forget me.' But as it is, one word more. Dost thou love the
young lady, whoever she be? or does she love thee so well that it would
be sin in thee to talk trifles to Julie? Speak as honestly as if thou
wert not a poet."

"Honestly, she never said she loved me. I never thought she did. But,
you see, I was very ill, and my parents and friends and my physician
said that it was right for me to arrange my life, and marry, and so
forth. And the girl had money, and was a good match. In short, the thing
was settled. But oh, Julie, she never learned my songs by heart! She did
not love as thou mayst, and still dost. And--ah! well--now that we meet
again--now that I look in thy face--now that I hear thy voice--No, I do
not love her as I loved, and might yet love th