"The spirit of my mother is in it." The physician prevailed, however, by the gentle influence of affection, in making Etienne promise that he would go out every day, either on the seashore, or in the fields and meadows which were still unknown to him.

In spite of this, Etienne, absorbed in his memories, remained yet another day at his window watching the sea, which offered him from that point of view aspects so various that never, as he believed, had he seen it so beautiful.

He mingled his contemplations with readings in Petrarch, one of his most favorite authors,--him whose poesy went nearest to the young man's heart through the constancy and the unity of his love.

Etienne had not within him the stuff for several passions.

He could love but once, and in one way only.