My properties, the Priory itself, the old familiar house mortgaged several times, were sold!... Ah! the sad journey which I made on that occasion!... It was a long time since I had been to Saint-Michel! And yet in my hours of disgust and weariness, in the evil excitement of Paris, the thought of this peaceful little place was sweet and calming. The pure wafts of air which came to me from there had a refreshing effect upon my congested brains, they soothed my heart burned by the corrosive acids which are carried along by the infected air of cities, and I often promised myself that whenever I got tired of always chasing dreams, I would seek refuge there amid the peace and serenity of native objects.... Saint-Michel!... Never was the place so dear to me as after I had left it; it seemed to me that it contained riches and beauty such as I had never known how to enjoy and which I now suddenly discovered ... I loved to direct my memories there, best of all I loved to recall the forest, the beautiful forest where, as a restless, dreamy child, I had lost my way so many times.... Inhaling with keen delight the aroma of the rich sap of trees, the ear enchanted by the harmonies of the wind which caused the underwood and forest trees to vibrate like harps and violin cellos, I lost myself in the large alleys overhung with trembling foliage, large, straight alleys which far, far away ended abruptly and opened up like a church bay upon the light of a pane of sky, arched and luminous.... In these dreams I saw the branches of oak trees reach out their foliage greener than ever, happy to find me again; young staddles greeted me with a joyous rustle as I passed by; they seemed to say to me: "Look how big we grew, how smooth and strong our trunks are, how good the air in which we spread out our slender, swaying boughs, how bountiful the soil in which we sink our roots always full of life--giving sap." The moss and peat mould called me: "We have prepared a nice bed for you, little fellow, a nice fragrant little bed such as you won't find in the miserably gilded houses of the big cities.... Stretch yourself out, roll on it if you are too warm, the fern will sway its gentle fans over your head, the beech trees will spread their branches open to let through a sunbeam which will gladden your heart." Alas! ever since I fell in love with Juliette--these voices have gradually become silent. These memories no longer came back like guardian angels to lull me to sleep and to gently stir their white wings in the agitated azure of my dreams!... My past had become estranged from me, ashamed of me!...