Yet it was an extremely careless relation, and I fully realized its
doubtful character. At that time I should have advised any one else in
my situation to release themselves from it kindly, and--well, I gave
myself the same counsel.

"Your heart, even then, must have told you that you were wrong, and I
think your common sense tells you so now. After all, the reasoning of
the heart and that of the intellect does not differ so widely as silly
wise folk suppose."

Wolf made no answer.

"Do you remember," Sigmund began again, "when I came from Heidelberg to
visit you thirteen years ago? It was my first trip to Paris. The
city, its life, the people, everything produced an overpowering
impression upon me. And in the midst of this frantic rush was the
charming idyl; you and Helene. Your little room in the quiet street
seemed like a magic isle in the roaring ocean. What was the name of
that street?"

"The Rue St. Dominique."

"Yes. I should like to make a pilgrimage there to see the old house."

"Impossible. The house has been torn down. The street has
disappeared. The magnificent Boulevard St. Germain now runs through
there."

"So nothing is to be found again! Nothing is left of all the beautiful
things which we experience, save the shadow of its memory in our souls!
We ought never to return to the scenes of past happiness, unless we are
sure of finding them unchanged."

Sigmund was becoming more and more tender and sensitive. It was his
nature.

He continued:

"How often I have lived over again the evening when you went to Dr.
Amandier's reception, and left me alone with Helene. I was very
awkward. I did not know how I ought to treat her, and the more at ease
she appeared, the more embarassed I became. I paid her compliments,
she laughed. Conversation was difficult, for I had no great knowledge
of French. She took pity on me and sat down at the cottage piano. She
played very prettily. Very often she turned round and smiled at me.
She was extremely bewitching, and my heart glowed. I envied you. I
planned all sorts of base things. I paid court to her. I confess it
now. You are not angry with me?"

"Don't fear," replied Wolf smilingly, "Helene told me about it as soon
as I came home. I was not jealous of you."

"Thank you," replied Sigmund with comical irritability. "Summoning my
whole vocabulary, I said all sorts of pretty things to her, but while
talking excitedly, with burning che