Little by little the charm of friendship and the familiarity of innocence take root and grow among us.  I generally accompany my young friend on the days appointed by Sophy or her mother, but sometimes I let him go alone.  The heart thrives in the sunshine of confidence, and a man must not be treated as a child; and what have I accomplished so far, if my pupil is unworthy of my esteem?  Now and then I go without him; he is sorry, but he does not complain; what use would it be?  And then he knows I shall not interfere with his interests.  However, whether we go together or separately you will understand that we are not stopped by the weather; we are only too proud to arrive in a condition which calls for pity.  Unluckily Sophy deprives us of this honour and forbids us to come in bad weather.  This is the only occasion on which she rebels against the rules which I laid down for her in private.

One day Emile had gone alone and I did not expect him back till the following day, but he returned the same evening.  “My dear Emile,” said I, “have you come back to your old friend already?” But instead of responding to my caresses he replied with some show of temper, “You need not suppose I came back so soon of my own accord; she insisted on it; it is for her sake not yours that I am here.”  Touched by his frankness I renewed my caresses, saying, “Truthful heart and faithful friend, do not conceal from me anything I ought to know.  If you came back for her sake, you told me so for my own; your return is her doing, your frankness is mine.  Continue to preserve the noble candour of great souls; strangers may think what they will, but it is a crime to let our friends think us better than we are.”

I take care not to let him underrate the cost of his confession by assuming that there is more love than generosity in it, and by telling him that he would rather deprive himself of the honour of this return, than give it to Sophy.  But this is how he revealed to me, all unconsciously, what were his real feelings; if he had returned slowly and comfortably, dreaming of his sweetheart, I should know he was merely her lover; when he hurried back, even if he was a little out of temper, he was the friend of his Mentor.

You see that the young man is very far from spending his days with Sophy, and seeing as much of her as he wants.  One or two visits a week are all that is permitted, and these visits are often only for the afternoon and are rarely extended to the next day.  He spends much more of his time in longing to see her, or in rejoicing that he has seen her, than he actually spends in her presence.  Even when he goes to see her, more time is spent in going and returning than by her side.  His pleasures, genuine, pure, delicious, but more imaginary than real, serve to kindle his love but not to make him effeminate.