His treatment of these two women deserved the highest praise; he deprived himself of everything for them, but, although he possessed musical talents that would have enabled him to make a fortune, the immediate needs of those dependent on him, and an extreme reserve, had always led him to prefer an assured income to the uncertain chances of success in larger ventures. In a word, he belonged to that small class who live quietly, and who are worth more to the world than those who do not appreciate them. I had learned of certain traits in his character which will serve to paint the man: he had fallen in love with a beautiful girl in the neighborhood, and, after a year of devotion to her, secured her parents' consent to their union. She was as poor as he. The contract was ready to be signed, the preparations for the wedding complete, when his mother said:
"And your sister? Who will marry her?"
That simple remark made him understand that if he married, he would spend all his money in the household expenses and his sister would have no dowry. He broke off the engagement, bravely renouncing his happy prospects; he then came to Paris.
When I heard that story, I wanted to see the hero. That simple, unassuming act of devotion seemed to me more admirable than all the glories of war.
The more I examined that young man, the less I felt inclined to broach the subject nearest my heart. The idea which had first occurred to me that he would harm me in Brigitte's eyes, vanished at once. Gradually, my thoughts took another course; I looked at him attentively, and it seemed to me that he was also examining me with curiosity.
We were both twenty-one years of age, but what a difference between us! He was accustomed to an existence regulated by the graduated tick of the clock; never having seen anything of life, except that part of it which lies between an obscure room on the fourth floor and a dingy government office; sending his mother all his savings—that farthing of human joy which the hand of toil clasps so greedily; having no thought except for the happiness of others, and that since his childhood, since he had been a babe in arms! And I, during that precious time, so swift, so inexorable, during that time, that with him was bathed in sweat, what had I done? Was I a man? Which of us had lived?
What I have said in a page, can be comprehended in a glance. He spoke to me of our journey and the countries we were going to visit.
"When do you go?" he asked.
"I do not know; Madame Pierson is unwell and has been confined to her bed for three days."
"For three days!" he repeated in surprise.