d Rodin, with an
ironical smile, expecting to see the young man express a sort of comical
disappointment or angry regret.

But it was not so. To the passionate enthusiasm of love, which had for a
moment lighted up the prince's features, there now succeeded a respectful
and touching expression. He looked at Rodin with emotion, and said to him
in a broken voice: "This woman, is then, a mother to me?"

It is impossible to describe with what a pious, melancholy, and tender
charm the Indian uttered the word mother.

"You have it, my dear prince; this respectable lady wishes to be a mother
to you. But I may not reveal to you the cause of the affection she feels
for you. Only, believe me--this affection is sincere, and the cause
honorable. If I do not tell you her secret, it is that, with us, the
secrets of women, young or old, are equally sacred."

"That is right, and I will respect it. Without seeing her, I will love
her--as I love God, without seeing Him."

"And now, my dear prince, let me tell you what are the intentions of your
maternal friend. This house will remain at your disposal, as long as you
like it; French servants, a carriage, and horses, will be at your orders;
the charges of your housekeeping will be paid for you. Then, as the son
of a king should live royalty, I have left in the next room a casket
containing five hundred Louis; every month a similar sum will be
provided: if it should not be found sufficient for your little
amusements, you will tell me, and it shall be augmented."

At a movement of Djalma, Rodin hastened to add: "I must tell you at once,
my dear prince, that your delicacy may be quite at ease. First of all,
you may accept anything from a mother; next, as in about three months you
will come into possession of an immense inheritance, it will be easy for
you, if you feel the obligation a burden--and the sum cannot exceed, at
the most, four or five thousand Louis--to repay these advances. Spare
nothing, then, but satisfy all your fancies. You are expected to appear
in the great world of Paris, in a style becoming the son of a king who
was called the Father of the Generous. So once again I conjure you not to
be restrained by a false delicacy; if this sum should not be
sufficient--"

"I will ask for more. My mother is right; the son of a monarch ought to
live royally."

Such was the answer of the Indian, made with perfect simplicity, and
without any appearance of astonishment at these magni