Page 739 - the-idiot

‘I do not wish to deprive your mother of you, and, there-
fore, I will not ask you to go with me,’ he said, the morning
of his departure, ‘but I should like to do something for you.’
He was mounting his horse as he spoke. ‘Write something
in my sister’s album for me,’ I said rather timidly, for he
was in a state of great dejection at the moment. He turned,
called for a pen, took the album. ‘How old is your sister?’ he
asked, holding the pen in his hand. ‘Three years old,’ I said.
‘Ah, petite fille alors!’ and he wrote in the album:
‘Ne mentes jamais! NAPOLEON (votre ami sincere).’
‘Such advice, and at such a moment, you must allow,
prince, was—‘
‘Yes, quite so; very remarkable.’
‘This page of the album, framed in gold, hung on the wall
of my sister’s drawing-room all her life, in the most conspic-
uous place, till the day of her death; where it is now, I really
don’t know. Heavens! it’s two o’clock! HOW I have kept you,
prince! It is really most unpardonable of me.
The general rose.
‘Oh, not in the least,’ said the prince. ‘ On the contrary, I
have been so much interested, I’m really very much obliged
to you.’
‘Prince,’, said the general, pressing his hand, and look-
ing at him with flashing eyes, and an expression as though
he were under the influence of a sudden thought which had
come upon him with stunning force. ‘Prince, you are so
kind, so simple-minded, that sometimes I really feel sorry
for you! I gaze at you with a feeling of real affection. Oh,
Heaven bless you! May your life blossom and fructify in

The Idiot