ld only be excellent ones," replied
the Jesuit. "Why then did you take this resolution, so much called in
question? Was it to brave established etiquette? no! for you respected
them until the hate of Mme. de Saint-Dizier forced you to withdraw
yourself from her unbearable guardianship. Was it to live alone, to
escape the eyes of the world? no! you would be a hundred times more open
to observation in this than any other condition. Was it to make a bad use
of your liberty? no, ah, no! those who design evil seek for darkness and
solitude; while you place yourself right before the jealous anal envious
eyes of the vulgar crowd. Why then do you take this determination, so
courageous and rare, unexampled in a young person of your age? Shall I
tell you, my dear young lady? It is, that you wish to prove, by your
example, that a woman of pure heart and honest mind, with a firm
character and independence of soul, may nobly and proudly throw off the
humiliating guardianship that custom has imposed upon her. Yes, instead
of accepting the fate of a revolted slave, a life only destined to
hypocrisy or vice, you wish to live freely in presence of all the world,
independent, honorable, and respected. You wish to have, like man, the
exercise of your own free will, the entire responsibility of all your
actions, so as to establish the fact, that a woman left completely to
herself, may equal man in reason, wisdom, uprightness, and surpass him
indelicacy and dignity. That is your design, my dear young lady. It is
noble and great. Will your example be imitated? I hope it may; but
whether it be so or not, your generous attempt, believe me, will place
you in a high and worthy position."

Mdlle. de Cardoville's eyes shone with a proud and gentle brightness, her
cheeks were slightly colored, her bosom heaved, she raised her charming
head with a movement of involuntary pride; at length completely under the
charm of that diabolical man she exclaimed: "But, sir, who are you that
can thus know and analyze my most secret thoughts, and read my soul more
clearly than myself, so as to give new life and action to those ideas of
independence which have long stirred within me? Who are you, that can
thus elevate me in my own eyes, for now I am conscious of accomplishing a
mission, honorable to myself, and perhaps useful to my sisters immersed
in slavery? Once again, sir, who are you?"

"Who am I, madame?" answered Rodin, with a smile of the greatest good
na