attached him to her personally.  He began to think how pleasant it would be to have so kind and generous a person for a relation; how easily his troubles might be borne if he had always such a ready helper at hand; how much he should like to make her like him, and come to him for the protection of his masculine power!  First of all his duties, as her self-appointed squire, came the necessity of finding out who her strange new acquaintance was.  Thus, you see, he arrived at the same end, via supposed duty, that he was previously pledged to via interest.  I fancy a good number of us, when any line of action will promote our own interest, can make ourselves believe that reasons exist which compel us to it as a duty.

“In the course of a very few days, Pierre had so circumvented Virginie as to have discovered that her new friend was no other than the Norman farmer in a different dress.  This was a great piece of knowledge to impart to Morin.  But Pierre was not prepared for the immediate physical effect it had on his cousin.  Morin sat suddenly down on one of the seats in the Boulevards—­it was there Pierre had met with him accidentally—­when he heard who it was that Virginie met.  I do not suppose the man had the faintest idea of any relationship or even previous acquaintanceship between Clement and Virginie.  If he thought of anything beyond the mere fact presented to him, that his idol was in communication with another, younger, handsomer man than himself, it must have been that the Norman farmer had seen her at the conciergerie, and had been attracted by her, and, as was but natural, had tried to make her acquaintance, and had succeeded.  But, from what Pierre told me, I should not think that even this much thought passed through Morin’s mind.  He seems to have been a man of rare and concentrated attachments; violent, though restrained and undemonstrative passions; and, above all, a capability of jealousy, of which his dark oriental complexion must have been a type.  I could fancy that if he had married Virginie, he would have coined his life-blood for luxuries to make her happy; would have watched over and petted her, at every sacrifice to himself, as long as she would have been content to live with him alone.  But, as Pierre expressed it to me:  ’When I saw what my cousin was, when I learned his nature too late, I perceived that he would have strangled a bird if she whom he loved was attracted by it from him.’

“When Pierre had told Morin of his discovery, Morin sat down, as I said, quite suddenly, as if he had been shot.  He found out that the first meeting between the Norman and Virginie was no accidental, isolated circumstance.  Pierre was torturing him with his accounts of daily rendezvous:  if but for a moment, they were seeing each other every day, sometimes twice a day.  And Virginie could speak to this man, though to himself she was coy and reserved as hardly to utter a sentence.  Pierre caught these broken words while his cousin’s