When he deemed the time ripe, he returned to Paris, where his success drew many to him; so many that, before long, the fame of the young Breton, now Maitre Pierre, author of the "Gloze d'Ezéchiel," the great teacher of the new doctrine of Conceptualism, was finding an echo in all Paris. He became the centre of a school of young enthusiasts, who hung upon his words. These early years of success in Paris were, intellectually, the most fruitful of his life, but they had a disastrous effect upon a character, the strength of which was never equal to that of his mind. His pride and vanity, naturally great, became consuming. Freedom of thought was not sufficient for him; so great a liberationist must live a free life; the scholars must share him with the courtesans. Meanwhile, in a little house in the western end of the Isle de la Cité, at the foot of Notre Dame, that already was beginning to lift its mighty bulk above the palace of the king, and the surrounding churches and cloisters, were living Canon Fulbert and his young niece, fifteen years old, who had just completed her education at the convent of Argenteuil. Héloïse was a girl of unusual ability. That her talents are no mere legend, is abundantly proved by her letters, that rank her among the great women of literature. And she had yet more dangerous gifts--character, charm, beauty. This white lily, blossoming among the cloisters, was the one flower that could draw from Abélard the soul no courtesan had been able to reach. She was fair, sweet, impressionable; looking out upon a lovely world, and waiting only for love to lighten it. He was famous, young, tall, handsome, and well-dressed, beyond the wont of scholars.[116] No more was needed. Their destiny was upon them. They met; and looked long into each other's eyes. Within a short time, Abélard was installed in the Canon's house; commissioned to instruct Héloïse in philosophy. "It is my wish that she should obey you in everything," said the guileless uncle, in confiding his niece to her tutor. "Employ every means, even manual chastisement, if you judge it necessary, to stimulate her zeal and constrain her to further submission."[117] Fulbert was to discover, only too soon, how little need there was for such an injunction. So the professor of thirty-eight and the maiden of seventeen sat side by side over their book of philosophy, until, at length, their eyes rose from the page to one another, "And that day they read no farther."[118] Day by day their mutual sympathy increased, though the, as yet, innocent liaison still masqueraded in the guise of a platonic friendship, while, all the time, says Abélard, "There came more words of love than philosophy into our conversations, and more kisses than explanations."