"But not without leaving traces behind," said Emile. "Even if memory itself should disappear, our emotions, according as they were pleasant or painful, will have deposited their balm or their poison, and our hearts will be tranquil or broken according to the experience they have had. I think that you must have suffered terribly in the past, although your brave heart refuses to descend to lamentation, and that suffering, which you conceal with too much pride, perhaps, increases my respect and my sympathy for you." "I have suffered more from the absence of happiness than from what is commonly called unhappiness. I agree that a sort of pride has already prevented me from seeking a remedy in the sympathy of others. Friendship must needs come to seek me out, for I could not run after it." "But in that case, would you have accepted it?" "Oh! certainly," said Monsieur de Boisguilbault, still in a cold tone, but with a sigh that went to Emile's heart. "And is it too late now?" asked the young man, with profound and respectful pity. "Now--why, I should have to believe in it," replied the marquis, "or dare to ask for it--and from whom, pray?" "Why not from him who listens to you and understands you to-day? Perhaps he is the first who has done so for a long time." "That is true!" "Very well, do you despise my youth? Do you deem me incapable of a serious sentiment, and do you fear that you will grow younger by bestowing a little affection on a boy?" "But suppose I should make you grow older, Emile?" "Very good; as I shall strive, for my part, to make you retrace your steps, the struggle will be advantageous to both of us. I shall gain in wisdom unquestionably, and perhaps you will find some alleviation of the wearisome monotony of your life. Believe in me, Monsieur de Boisguilbault: at my age one cannot pretend; if I dare to offer you my respectful attention, it is because I am capable of performing the duties that accompany it, and of appreciating the advantages of your affection!" Monsieur de Boisguilbault took Emile's hand once more, and pressed it very warmly, but made no reply. By the light of the moon, which was just rising, the young man saw a tear glisten an instant on the old man's withered cheek and disappear in his silvery whiskers. Emile had conquered; he was happy and proud. The youth of to-day profess a malignant contempt for old age, but our hero, on the contrary, felt a legitimate pride in triumphing over the reserve and distrust of that venerable and unhappy man. He was flattered by the thought that he had brought some consolation to that desolate patriarch and had made up to him for the neglect or injustice of other men.