This time Julien was speaking the truth and not simply forcing himself to be brave in order to comfort his mother. He felt, not perfectly tranquil, but strong; his two interviews with Julie in quick succession had given his heart a new direction, a more unerring impulse. He had found in her presence the inspiration which gave full play to the seriousness and the generosity of his passion. He was sure that he had laid bare his heart to her, and that he had neither terrified nor insulted her. Did he believe that she loved him? No, but it may be that he had a vague feeling that she did, and there was a mysterious enjoyment in his reverie. He had attained a perfect understanding of his mission in the life of exalted and unselfish sentiment which was really his normal life. What he had said, he proposed to do, and he had strength to do it. To love in silence, to seek nothing, to obtain nothing by surprise, and to seize nothing except an opportunity to devote himself unreservedly to his mission, such was his plan, his determination, his profession of faith, so to speak. "And now," he thought, "it may be that I shall suffer terribly despite my determination; but I shall so enjoy suffering nobly and holding my peace for love of her, that I shall triumph over my suffering, and my mother will not again feel its rebound. I must be very strong in the struggle between my instincts and my duties. And why should I not? I have always loved lofty ideas and sentiments which are beyond the reach of the common herd. As I am obliged to be a man, and as I am persuaded that duty is found in family ties, I shall doubtless do some day as Marcel has done: I shall marry a virtuous woman, who will be thereafter my best friend. Until then I propose to remain free and chaste. I propose to love without hope, and if possible, without desire, this nobly born Julie who can never be mine; I will overcome the desire, I will carry fraternal feeling to the point of sublimity, and I will nourish all my faculties with the sublime. I will be to other people only a very patient, very amiable young working man, seeking grace and charm in baskets of roses; but by dint of studying the divine mystery of purity in the hearts of flowers, one may obtain a revelation of sanctity in love. It seems to me a fine thing to say to oneself that one might scheme to surprise the virtue of the woman one loves, and that one loves her too well to attempt it. The life of which I dream is all meditation and sentiment. Very well; I will live it as long as possible. I will live by my thoughts as other people live by their acts, and it may be that I shall be the happiest of men! I shall feel that I am sustained by an enthusiasm which will not be worn to shreds by disappointments. I shall live and breathe alone and every moment in the beautiful, the pure and the great, with even more satisfaction than my poor father, who was conscious of a craving for it, but who thought that he could gratify his