Love had brought me unknown happiness, but also unknown suffering. If I had had some one to whom I could confide my suffering; if I had been able at times to weep on some one's breast, an act for which I had often a wonderful desire,--I should have removed half the weight, beyond doubt, from my soul. I might have confessed all to Selim, but I feared his disposition. I knew that he would feel my words heartily at the first moment; but who could assure me that next day he would not ridicule me with the cynicism peculiar to him, and with frivolous words defile my ideal, which I dared not touch with any giddy thought? My character had at all times been well locked up in me; besides, there was one great difference between me and Selim. I had always been somewhat sentimental; Selim had not sentiment to the value of a copper. I could fall in love only when sad, Selim only when joyous. I concealed my love from every one, almost from myself, and really no one discovered it. In a few days, without ever having seen any models, I had learned instinctively to hide all indications of that love, such as the confusion which often came on me, and the blushes with which I was covered when Hania was mentioned in my presence,--in a word, I developed immense cunning, that cunning by the aid of which a boy sixteen years old will often deceive the most careful eye watching him. I had not the least design of confessing my feelings to Hania. I loved her, and that was sufficient. Only at times, when we were alone, something urged me to kneel before her and kiss the hem of her dress. Selim meanwhile played his mad pranks, laughed, was witty and joyous for both of us. He was the first to bring a smile to Hania's face, when once at breakfast he proposed to Father Ludvik to turn Mohammedan and marry Pani d'Yves. Neither the French woman, who was rather easily offended, nor the priest, could get angry with him; with her he had made himself such a favorite that when he made eyes at her and laughed, all ended in a slight scolding and in general merriment. In his treatment of Hania a certain tenderness and care were evident, but in this relation too his innate joyousness conquered everything. He was more confidential with her than I. It was evident that Hania liked him much, for whenever he entered the room she was more cheerful. He made continual sport of me, or rather of my sadness, taking it for the artificial dignity of one who wishes to be grown up in a hurry. "Look, all of you, he will end by becoming a priest," said he. Then I dropped the first thing I could, so as to bend down for it and hide the blush which covered my face; but Father Ludvik took snuff and answered,-- "To the honor of God! to the honor of God!"