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Deep within this ironical and disappointed being of mine there is a child hidden a frank, sad, simple creature, who believes in the ideal, in love, in holiness, and all heavenly superstitions. A whole millennium of idylls sleeps in my heart; I am a pseudo-skeptic, a pseudo-scoffer. "Borne dans sa nature, infini dans ses voeux, L'homme est un dieu tombe qui se souvient des cieux."
Though there seemed little chance of his returning to claim his place in her affections though she had made the most laudable efforts to banish him from her recollection, yet "En songeant qu'il faut qu'on l'oublie On s'en souvient;"
"Picpon s'en souvient," he murmured with a smile; and as the charge swept onward, Cecil, with a great cry of horror, saw the feet of the maddened horses strike to pulp the writhing body, and saw the black, wistful eyes of the Enfant de Paris look upward to him once, with love, and fealty, and unspeakable sweetness gleaming through their darkened sight. But to pause was impossible.
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