“I think we cannot know the grace of Christ without knowing our own sin,” Clémence answered. “But, monsieur, look at these words also; I think you will find them easier to understand.” She turned to another page of the book, and read--“‘Console thyself; thou wouldst not be seeking Me, if I had not already found thee.’” Ivan pondered. “_Found thee?_” he repeated. “As the shepherd in the gospel found the lost sheep? But perhaps the sheep never knew how far he had wandered; certainly he never was able to tell. That is a comfort. I like, too, to think of one of the proverbs of my country: ‘The babe does not know God, yet God loves it.’ But I fear I am deplorably ignorant, and in every way very far from what I ought to be.” It was not often that the talk of these young people glided into channels so profound. The bright and varying experiences that lay near the surface of their lives furnished far more frequently the daily bread of their intercourse. When Ivan grew stronger, his friends urged him to go and see the wonders of Paris, which the elder ladies vaunted to him, exerting all their powers of description to depict them in glowing colours. They had of course already done the honours of Versailles, with its splendid palace dedicated “to all the glories of France.” Ivan was far too polite to tell them, as Michael would have done, that he was sure Paris could not equal Moscow before the conflagration; but he seemed less anxious to see Paris than to bring his friends to see the Czar. At last an expedition was arranged for an early day in May. A carriage was engaged, in which Madame de Talmont, Clémence, and Ivan were to drive together to the city, where Emile was to meet them, and a long day of sight-seeing was to follow. Ivan, all this time, was like one who floats dreamily on the calm expanse of a tropic sea. Now and then a bright land-bird skims by, or a blossom borne from afar sleeps on the surface of the still, clear water. He is drawing near the shore of a new, undiscovered country; but as yet he has not seen, has not dreamed of it. His “eyes are holden,” until he feels the coral grate beneath his keel; then suddenly he looks up--and behold, in one glorious moment all is changed! Palm trees wave above him, green grasses kiss the water’s edge, gorgeous plants trail their luxuriant wealth of flowers, and for him there is a new world created. CHAPTER XXIX. IVAN’S DINNER PARTY, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. “Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked.”