merriment, but on such an occasion he owned that he was tempted to
transgress his customary habits, and he felt that Monsieur, with his
usual good taste, would feel offended if his servant, within Monsieur's
own house, suffered joy to pass the limits of discretion, and enter
the confines of noise and inebriety, especially as Monsieur had so
positively interdicted all outward sign of extra hilarity. He implored
_mille pardons_ for the presumption of his request.

"It is made with your usual discretion; there are five guineas for you:
go and get drunk with your friend, and be merry instead of wise. But,
tell me, is it not beneath a philosopher to be moved by anything,
especially anything that occurs to another,--much less to get drunk upon
it?"

"Pardon me, Monsieur," answered Desmarais, bowing to the ground: "one
ought to get drunk sometimes, because the next morning one is sure to
be thoughtful; and, moreover, the practical philosopher ought to indulge
every emotion, in order to judge how that emotion would affect another;
at least, this is my opinion."

"Well, go."

"My most grateful thanks be with Monsieur; Monsieur's nightly toilet is
entirely prepared."

And away went Desmarais, with the light, yet slow, step with which he
was accustomed to combine elegance with dignity.

I now passed into the room I had prepared for Isora's _boudoir_. I found
her leaning by the window, and I perceived that she had been in
tears. As I paused to contemplate her figure so touchingly, yet so
unconsciously mournful in its beautiful and still posture, a more joyous
sensation than was wont to mingle with my tenderness for her swelled at
my heart. "Yes," thought I, "you are no longer the solitary exile, or
the persecuted daughter of a noble but ruined race; you are not even
the bride of a man who must seek in foreign climes, through danger
and through hardship, to repair a broken fortune and establish an
adventurer's name! At last the clouds have rolled from the bright star
of your fate: wealth, and pomp, and all that awaits the haughtiest of
England's matrons shall be yours." And at these thoughts Fortune seemed
to me a gift a thousand times more precious than--much as my luxuries
prized it--it had ever seemed to me before.

I drew near and laid my hand upon Isora's shoulder, and kissed her
cheek. She did not turn round, but strove, by bending over my hand and
pressing it to her lips, to conceal that she had been weeping. I thou