industrious as well as ambitious; but something more than these
qualities are essential to a poet, whose imagination and genius must be
endowed with wings. These D'Argenton had not; he felt merely that vague
uneasiness which indicates a missing limb, but that was all, and he lost
both time and trouble in ineffectual efforts; his aunt aided him by a
small allowance, but his life bore not the shadow of a resemblance to
the picture drawn by Ida. In fact, D'Argenton had never been entangled
in any serious love affair; his nature was cold and prudent, and yet he
had been beloved by more than one woman. To D'Argenton, however, their
society had always seemed a waste of time. Ida de Barancy was the first
who had made upon him any real impression. Of this fact Ida had no idea,
and whenever she met the poet on her very frequent visits to Jack, it
was always with the same deprecating air and timid voice. The poet,
while adopting an air of utter indifference, cultivated the affection
and society of little Jack, whom he induced to talk freely of his
mother.

Jack being extremely flattered, gladly gave every information in his
power, and talked freely of the kind friend who was so good to mamma.
The mention of this person cost the poet a strange pang. "He is so
kind," babbled Jack, "he comes to see us every day; or, if he does not
come, he sends us great baskets of fruit, and playthings for me."

"And is your mother very fond of him, too?" continued D'Argenton, without
looking up from his writing.

"Yes, indeed, sir," answered the little fellow, innocently.

But are we quite sure that he spoke so innocently. The minds of children
are not always so transparent as we believe; and it is difficult to say
when they understand matters that go on about them, and when they do
not. That mysterious growth that is constantly going on within them,
has unexpected seasons of bursting into flower, and they suddenly mass
together the disconnected fragments of information they have acquired
and intuitively attain the result.

Had Jack, therefore, no perception of the hidden rage that filled the
heart of his professor when he questioned him in regard to their kind
friend? Jack did not like D'Argenton; in addition to his first dislike,
he was now actuated by strong jealousy. His mother was too much occupied
by this man. When he passed the day with her, she in her turn plied him
with questions, and asked if his teacher never spoke to him of her.