CHAPTER XXI.
APRSE PERDRE, PERD ON BIEN.
What to those who understand Are to-day's enjoyments narrow, Which to-morrow go again, Which are shared with evil men, And of which no man in his dying Taketh aught for softer lying?
It was now early spring: the days were lengthening and were growing soft.

Lent (late that year) was nearly over.

I had begun to think much about the summer, and to wonder if I were to pass it in the city.

There was one thing that the winter had developed in me, and that was, a sort of affection for my uncle.

I had learned that I owed him a duty, and had tried to find ways of fulfilling it; had taken a little interest in the house, and had tried to make him more comfortable.