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RETURN TO PARIS - Chapter VI

I Meet With a Flattering Reception From My Patron--Madame D'Urfe's
Infatuation--Madame X. C. V. And Her Family--Madame du Rumain


During my journey from the Hague to Paris, short as it was, I had
plenty of opportunities for seeing that the mental qualities of my
adopted son were by no means equal to his physical ones.

As I had said, the chief point which his mother had impressed on him
was reserve, which she had instilled into him out of regard for her
own interests.  My readers will understand what I mean, but the
child, in following his mother's instructions, had gone beyond the
bounds of moderation; he possessed reserve, it is true, but he was
also full of dissimulation, suspicion, and hypocrisy--a fine trio of
deceit in one who was still a boy.  He not only concealed what he
knew, but he pretended to know that which he did not.  His idea of
the one quality necessary to success in life was an impenetrable
reserve, and to obtain this he had accustomed himself to silence the
dictates of his heart, and to say no word that had not been carefully
weighed.  Giving other people wrong impressions passed with him for
discretion, and his soul being incapable of a generous thought, he
seemed likely to pass through life without knowing what friendship
meant.

Knowing that Madame d'Urfe counted on the boy for the accomplishment
of her absurd hypostasis, and that the more mystery I made of his
birth the more extravagant would be her fancies about it, I told the
lad that if I introduced him to a lady who questioned him by himself
about his birth, he was to be perfectly open with her.

On my arrival at Paris my first visit was to my patron, whom I found
in grand company amongst whom I recognized the Venetian ambassador,
who pretended not to know me.

"How long have you been in Paris?" said the minister, taking me by
the hand.

"I have only just stepped out of my chaise."

"Then go to Versailles.  You will find the Duc de Choiseul and the
comptroller-general there.  You have been wonderfully successful, go
and get your meed of praise and come and see me afterwards.  Tell the
duke that Voltaire's appointment to be a gentleman-in-ordinary to the
king is ready."

I was not going to start for Versailles at midday, but ministers in
Paris are always talking in this style, as if Versailles were at the
end of the street.  Instead of going there, I went to see Madame
d'Urfe.

She received me with the words that her genius had informed her that
I should come to-day, and that she was delighted with the fulfilment
of the prophecy.

"Corneman tells me that you have been doing wonders in Holland; but I
see more in the matter than he does, as I am quite certain that you
have taken over the twenty millions yourself.  The funds have risen,
and a hundred millions at least will be in circulation in the course
of the next week.  You must not be offended at my shabby present,
for, of course, twelve thousand francs are nothing to you.  You must
look upon them as a little token of friendship."

"I am going to tell my servants to close all the doors, for I am too
glad to see you not to want to have you all to myself."

A profound bow was the only reply I made to this flattering speech,
and I saw her tremble with joy when I told her that I had brought a
lad of twelve with me, whom I intended to place in the best school I
could find that he might have a good education.

"I will send him myself to Viar, where my nephews are.  What is his
name?   Where is he?   I know well what this boy is, I long to see
him.  Why did you not alight from your journey at my house?"

Her questions and replies followed one another in rapid succession. 
I should have found it impossible to get in a word edgeways, even if
I had wanted to, but I was very glad to let her expend her
enthusiasm, and took good care not to interrupt her.  On the first
opportunity, I told her that I should have the pleasure of presenting
the young gentleman to her the day after tomorrow, as on the morrow I
had an engagement at Versailles.

"Does the dear lad speak French?   While I am arranging for his going
to school you must really let him come and live with me."

"We will discuss that question on the day after tomorrow, madam."

"Oh, how I wish the day after to-morrow was here!"

On leaving Madame d'Urfe I went to my lottery office and found
everything in perfect order.  I then went to the Italian play, and
found Silvia and her daughter in their dressing-room.

"My dear friend," said she when she saw me, "I know that you have
achieved a wonderful success in Holland, and I congratulate you."


"I gave her an agreeable surprise by saying that I had been working
for her daughter, and Marion herself blushed, and lowered her eyes in
a very suggestive manner.  "I will be with you at supper," I added,
"and then we can talk at our ease."  On leaving them I went to the
amphitheatre, and what was my surprise to see' in one of the first
boxes Madame X---- C---- V----, with all her family.  My readers will
be glad to hear their history.

Madame X---- C---- V----, by birth a Greek, was the widow of an
Englishman, by whom she had six children, four of whom were girls. 
On his death-bed he became a Catholic out of deference to the tears
of his wife; but as his children could not inherit his forty thousand
pounds invested in England, without conforming to the Church of
England, the family returned to London, where the widow complied with
all the obligations of the law of England.  What will people not do
when their interests are at stake! though in a case like this there
is no need to blame a person for yielding, to prejudices which had
the sanction of the law.

It was now the beginning of the year 1758, and five years before,
when I was at Padua, I fell in love with the eldest daughter, but a
few months after, when we were at Venice, Madame X. C. V. thought
good to exclude me from her family circle.  The insult which the
mother put upon me was softened by the daughter, who wrote me a
charming letter, which I love to read even now.  I may as well
confess that my grief was the easier to bear as my time was taken up
by my fair nun, M---- M----, and my dear C---- C-----.  Nevertheless,
Mdlle.  X. C. V., though only fifteen, was of a perfect beauty, and
was all the more charming in that to her physical advantages she
joined those of a cultured mind.

Count Algarotti, the King of Prussia's chamberlain, gave her lessons,
and several young nobles were among her suitors, her preference
apparently being given to the heir of the family of Memmo de St. 
Marcuola.  He died a year afterwards, while he was procurator.

My surprise at seeing this family at such a time and place may be
imagined.  Mdlle. X. C. V. saw me directly, and pointed me out to her
mother, who made a sign to me with her fan to come to their box.

She received me in the friendliest manner possible, telling me that
we were not at Venice now, and that she hoped I would often come and
see them at the "Hotel de Bretagne," in the Rue St.  Andre des Arts. 
I told them that I did not wish to recall any events which might have
happened at Venice, and her daughter having joined her entreaties to
those of her mother, I promised to accept their invitation.

Mdlle. X. C. V. struck me as prettier than ever; and my love, after
sleeping for five years, awoke to fresh strength and vigour.  They
told me that they were going to pass six months at Paris before
returning to Venice.  In return I informed them that I intended
making Paris my home, that I had just left Holland, that I was going
to Versailles the next day, so that I could not pay my respects to
them till the day after.  I also begged them to accept my services,
in a manner which let them know I was a person of some importance.

Mdlle. X. C. V. said that she was aware that the results of my Dutch
mission should render me dear to France, that she had always lived in
hopes of seeing me once more, that my famous flight from The Leads
had delighted them; "for," she added, "we have always been fond of
you."

"I fancy your mother has kept her fondness for me very much to
herself," I whispered to her.

"We won't say anything about that," said she in the same tone.  "We
learnt all the circumstances of your wonderful flight from a letter
of sixteen pages you wrote to M. Memmo.  We trembled with joy and
shuddered with fear as we read it."

"How did you know I have been in Holland?"

"M. de la Popeliniere told us about it yesterday."

M. de la Popeliniere, the fermier-general, whom I had known seven
years ago at Passi, came into the box just as his name was spoken. 
After complimenting me he said that if I could carry through the same
operation for the India Company my fortune would be made.

"My advice to you is," he said, "to get yourself naturalized before
it becomes generally known that you have made half a million of
money."

"Half a million!  I only wish I had!"

"You must have made that at the lowest calculation."

"On the contrary, I give you my assurance, that if my claim for
brokerage is not allowed, the transaction will prove absolutely
ruinous to me."

"Ah! no doubt you are right to take that tone.  Meanwhile, everyone
wants to make your acquaintance, for France is deeply indebted to
you.  You have caused the funds to recover in a very marked degree."

After the play was over I went to Silvia's, where I was received as
if I had been the favourite child of the family; but on the other
hand I gave them certain proofs that I wished to be regarded in that
light.  I was impressed with the idea that to their unshaken
friendship I owed all my good luck, and I made the father, mother,
the daughter, and the two sons, receive the presents I had got for
them.  The best was for the mother, who handed it on to her daughter. 
It was a pair of diamond ear-rings of great beauty, for which I had
given fifteen thousand francs.  Three days after I sent her a box
containing fine linen from Holland, and choice Mechlin and Alencon
lace.  Mario, who liked smoking, got a gold pipe; the father a choice
gold and enamelled snuff-box, and I gave a repeater to the younger
son, of whom I was very fond.  I shall have occasion later on to
speak of this lad, whose natural qualities were far superior to his
position in life.  But, you will ask, was I rich enough to make such
presents?   No, I was not, and I knew it perfectly well; but I gave
these presents because I was afraid of not being able to do so if I
waited.

I set out for Versailles at day-break, and M. de Choiseul received me
as before, his hair was being dressed, but for a moment he laid down
his pen, which shewed that I had become a person of greater
importance in his eyes.  After a slight but grateful compliment, he
told me that if I thought myself capable of negotiating a loan of a
hundred millions to bear interest at four per cent., he would do all
in his power to help me.  My answer was that I would think it over
when I heard how much I was to have for what I had done already.

"But everybody says that you have made two hundred thousand florins
by it."

"That would not be so bad; half a million of francs would be a fair
foundation on which to build a fortune; but I can assure your
excellence that there is not a word of truth in the report.  I defy
anyone to prove it; and till some substantial proof is offered, I
think I can lay claim to brokerage."

"True, true.  Go to the comptroller-general and state your views to
him."

M. de Boulogne stopped the occupation on which he was engaged to give
me a most friendly greeting, but when I said that he owed me a
hundred thousand florins he smiled sardonically.

"I happen to know," he said, "that you have bills of exchange to the
amount of a hundred thousand crowns payable to yourself."

"Certainly, but that money has no connection with my mission, as I
can prove to you by referring you to M. d'Afri.  I have in my head an
infallible project for increasing the revenue by twenty millions, in
a manner which will cause no irritation."

"You don't say so!  Communicate your plan, and I promise to get you a
pension of a hundred thousand francs, and letters of nobility as
well, if you like to become a Frenchman."

"I will think it over."

On leaving M.  de Boulogne I went to the Palace, where a ballet was
going on before the Marquise de Pompadour.

She bowed to me as soon as she saw me, and on my approaching her she
told me that I was an able financier, and that the "gentlemen below"
could not appreciate my merits.  She had not forgotten what I had
said to her eight years before in the theatre at Fontainebleau.  I
replied that all good gifts were from above, whither, with her help,
I hoped to attain.

On my return to Paris I went to the "Hotel Bourbon" to inform my
patron of the result of my journey.  His advice to me was to continue
to serve the Government well, as its good fortune would come to be
mine.  On my telling him of my meeting with the X. C. V.'s, he said
that M. de la Popeliniere was going to marry the elder daughter.

When I got to my house my son was nowhere to be found.  My landlady
told me that a great lady had come to call on my lord, and that she
had taken him away with her.  Guessing that this was Madame d'Urfe, I
went to bed without troubling myself any further.  Early next morning
my clerk brought me a letter.  It came from the old attorney, uncle
to Gaetan's wife, whom I had helped to escape from the jealous fury
of her brutal husband.  The attorney begged me to come and speak to
him at the courts, or to make an appointment at some place where he
could see me.  I went to the courts and found him there.

"My niece," he began, "found herself obliged to go into a convent;
and from this vantage ground she is pleading against her husband,
with the aid of a barrister, who will be responsible for the costs. 
However, to win our case, we require the evidence of yourself, Count
Tiretta, and other servants who witnessed the scene at the inn."

I did all I could, and four months afterwards Gaetan simplified
matters by a fraudulent bankruptcy, which obliged him to leave
France: in due time and place, I shall have something more to say
about him.  As for his wife, who was young and pretty, she paid her
counsel in love's money, and was very happy with him, and may be
happy still for all I know, but I have entirely lost sight of her.

After my interview with the old attorney I went to Madame---- to see
Tiretta, who was out.  Madame was still in love with him, and he
continued to make a virtue of necessity.  I left my address, and went
to the "Hotel de Bretagne" to pay my first call on Madame X. C. V. 
The lady, though she was not over fond of me, received me with great
politeness.  I possibly cut a better figure in her eyes when rich,
and at Paris, then when we were in Venice.  We all know that diamonds
have the strange power of fascination, and that they form an
excellent substitute for virtue!

Madame X. C. V. had with her an old Greek named Zandiri, brother to
M. de Bragadin's major-domo, who was just dead.  I uttered some
expressions of sympathy, and the boor did not take the trouble to
answer me, but I was avenged for his foolish stiffness by the
enthusiasm with which I was welcomed by everyone else.  The eldest
girl, her sisters, and the two sons, almost overwhelmed me with
friendliness.  The eldest son was only fourteen, and was a young
fellow of charming manners, but evidently extremely independent, and
sighed for the time when he would be able to devote himself to a
career of profligacy for which he was well fitted.  Mdlle. X. C. V.
was both beautiful and charming in her manner, and had received an
excellent education of which, however, she made no parade.  One could
not stay in her presence without loving her, but she was no flirt,
and I soon saw that she held out no vain hopes to those who had the
misfortune not to please her.  Without being rude she knew how to be
cold, and it was all the worse for those whom her coldness did not
shew that their quest was useless.

The first hour I passed in her company chained me a captive to her
triumphant car.  I told her as much, and she replied that she was
glad to have such a captive.  She took the place in my heart where
Esther had reigned a week before, but I freely confess that Esther
yielded only because she was away.  As to my attachment to Sylvia's
daughter, it was of such a nature as not to hinder me falling in love
with any other woman who chanced to take my fancy.  In the
libertine's heart love cannot exist without substantial food, and
women who have had some experience of the world are well aware of
this fact.  The youthful Baletti was a beginner, and so knew nothing
of these things.

M. Farsetti, a Venetian of noble birth, a knight of Malta, a great
student of the occult sciences, and a good Latin versifier, came in
at one o'clock.  Dinner was just ready and Madame X. C. V. begged him
to stay.  She asked me also to dine with them, but wishing to dine
with Madame d'Urfe I refused the invitation for the nonce.

M. Farsetti, who had known me very well at Venice, only noticed me by
a side-glance, and without shewing any vexation I paid him back in
the same coin.  He smiled at Mdlle. X. C. V.'s praise of my courage. 
She noticed his expression, and as if to punish him for it went on to
say that I had now the admiration of every Venetian, and that the
French were anxious to have the honour of calling me a fellow-
citizen.  M. Farsetti asked me if my post at the lottery paid well. I
replied, coolly,

"Oh, yes, well enough for me to pay my clerks' salaries."

He understood the drift of my reply, and Mdlle. X. C. V. smiled.

I found my supposed son with Madame d'Urfe, or rather in that amiable
visionary's arms.  She hastened to apologize for carrying him off,
and I turned it off with a jest, having no other course to take.

"I made him sleep with me," she said, "but I shall be obliged to
deprive myself of this privilege for the future, unless he promises
to be more discreet."

I thought the idea a grand one, and the little fellow, in spite of
his blushes, begged her to say how he had offended.

"We shall have the Comte de St. Germain," said Madame d'Urfe, "to
dinner.  I know he amuses you, and I like you to enjoy yourself in my
house."

"For that, madam, your presence is all I need; nevertheless, I thank
you for considering me."

In due course St. Germain arrived, and in his usual manner sat
himself down, not to eat but to talk.  With a face of imperturbable
gravity he told the most incredible stories, which one had to pretend
to believe, as he was always either the hero of the tale or an eye
witness of the event.  All the same, I could not help bursting into
laughter when he told us of something that happened as he was dining
with the Fathers of the Council of Trent.

Madame d'Urfe wore on her neck a large magnet.  She said that it
would one day happen that this magnet would attract the lightning,
and that she would consequently soar into the sun.  I longed to tell
her that when, she got there she could be no higher up than on the
earth, but I restrained myself; and the great charlatan hastened to
say that there could be no doubt about it, and that he, and he only,
could increase the force of the magnet a thousand times.  I said,
dryly, that I would wager twenty thousand crowns he would not so much
as double its force, but Madame d'Urfe would not let us bet, and
after dinner she told me in private that I should have lost, as St. 
Germain was a magician.  Of course I agreed with her.

A few days later, the magician set out for Chambord, where the king
had given him a suite of rooms and a hundred thousand francs, that he
might be at liberty to work on the dyes which were to assure the
superiority of French materials over those of any other country.  St. 
Germain had got over the king by arranging a laboratory where he
occasionally tried to amuse himself, though he knew little about
chemistry, but the king was the victim of an almost universal
weariness.  To enjoy a harem recruited from amongst the most
ravishing beauties, and often from the ranks of neophytes, with whom
pleasure had its difficulties, one would have needed to be a god, and
Louis XV. was only a man after all.

It was the famous marquise who had introduced the adept to the king
in the hope of his distracting the monarch's weariness, by giving him
a taste for chemistry.  Indeed Madame de Pompadour was under the
impression that St. Germain had given her the water of perpetual
youth, and therefore felt obliged to make the chemist a good return. 
This wondrous water, taken according to the charlatan's directions,
could not indeed make old age retire and give way to youth, but
according to the marquise it would preserve one in statu quo for
several centuries.

As a matter of fact, the water, or the giver of it, had worked
wonders, if not on her body, at least on her mind; she assured the
king that she was not getting older.  The king was as much deluded by
this grand impostor as she was, for one day he shewed the Duc des
Deux-Ponts a diamond of the first water, weighing twelve carats,
which he fancied he had made himself.  "I melted down," said Louis
XV., "small diamonds weighing twenty-four carats, and obtained this
one large one weighing twelve."  Thus it came to pass that the
infatuated monarch gave the impostor the suite formerly occupied by
Marshal Saxe.  The Duc des Deux-Ponts told me this story with his own
lips, one evening, when I was supping with him and a Swede, the Comte
de Levenhoop, at Metz.

Before I left Madame d'Urfe, I told her that the lad might be he who
should make her to be born again, but that she would spoil all if she
did not wait for him to attain the age of puberty.  After what she
had said about his misbehavior, the reader will guess what made me
say this.  She sent him to board with Viar, gave him masters on
everything, and disguised him under the name of the Comte d'Aranda,
although he was born at Bayreuth, and though his mother never had
anything to do with a Spaniard of that name.  It was three or four
months before I went to see him, as I was afraid of being insulted on
account of the name which the visionary Madame d'Urfe had given him.

One day Tiretta came to see me in a fine coach.  He told me that his
elderly mistress wanted to become his wife, but that he would not
hear of it, though she offered to endow him with all her worldly
goods.  I told him that if he gave in he might pay his debts, return
to Trevisa, and live pleasantly there; but his destiny would not
allow him to take my advice.

I had resolved on taking a country house, and fixed on one called
"Little Poland," which pleased me better than all the others I had
seen.  It was well furnished, and was a hundred paces distant from
the Madeleine Gate.  It was situated on slightly elevated ground near
the royal park, behind the Duc de Grammont's garden, and its owner
had given it the name of "Pleasant Warsaw."  It had two gardens, one
of which was on a level with the first floor, three reception rooms,
large stables, coach houses, baths, a good cellar, and a splendid
kitchen.  The master was called "The Butter King," and always wrote
himself down so; the name had been given to him by Louis XV. on the
monarch's stopping at the house and liking the butter.  The "Butter
King" let me his house for a hundred Louis per annum, and he gave me
an excellent cook called "The Pearl," a true blue-ribbon of the order
of cooks, and to her he gave charge of all his furniture and the
plate I should want for a dinner of six persons, engaging to get me
as much plate as I wanted at the hire of a sous an ounce.  He also
promised to let me have what wine I wanted, and said all he had was
of the best, and, moreover, cheaper than I could get it at Paris, as
he had no gate-money to pay on it.

Matters having been arranged on these terms, in the course of a week
I got a good coachman, two fine carriages, five horses, a groom, and
two footmen.  Madame d'Urfe, who was my first guest, was delighted
with my new abode, and as she imagined that I had done it all for
her, I left her in that flattering opinion.  I never could believe in
the morality of snatching from poor mortal man the delusions which
make them happy.  I also let her retain the notion that young
d'Aranda, the count of her own making, was a scion of the nobility,
that he was born for a mysterious operation unknown to the rest of
mankind, that I was only his caretaker (here I spoke the truth), and
that he must die and yet not cease to live.  All these whimsical
ideas were the products of her brain, which was only occupied with
the impossible, and I thought the best thing I could do was to agree
with everything.  If I had tried to undeceive her, she would have
accused me of want of trust in her, for she was convinced that all
her knowledge was revealed to her by her genius, who spoke to her
only by night.  After she had dined with me I took her back to her
house, full of happiness.

Camille sent me a lottery ticket, which she had invested in at my
office, and which proved to be a winning one, I think, for a thousand
crowns or thereabouts.  She asked me to come and sup with her, and
bring the money with me.  I accepted her invitation, and found her
surrounded by all the girls she knew and their lovers.  After supper
I was asked to go to the opera with them, but we had scarcely got
there when I lost my party in the crowd.  I had no mask on, and I
soon found myself attacked by a black domino, whom I knew to be a
woman, and as she told me a hundred truths about myself in a falsetto
voice, I was interested, and determined on finding out who she was. 
At last I succeeded in persuading her to come with me into a box, and
as soon as we were in and I had taken off her mask I was astonished
to find she was Mdlle. X. C. V.

"I have come to the ball," said she, "with one of my sisters, my
elder brother, and M. Farsetti.  I left them to go into a box and
change my domino:

"They must feel very uneasy."

"I dare say they do, but I am not going to take pity on them till the
end of the ball."

Finding myself alone with her, and certain of having her in my
company for the rest of the night, I began to talk of our old love-
making; and I took care to say that I was more in love with her than
ever.  She listened to me kindly, did not oppose my embraces, and by
the few obstacles she placed in my way I judged that the happy moment
was not far off.  Nevertheless I felt that I must practice restraint
that evening, and she let me see that she was obliged to me.

"I heard at Versailles, my dear mademoiselle, that you are going to
marry M. de la Popeliniere."

"So they say.  My mother wishes me to do so, and the old financier
fancies he has got me in his talons already; but he makes a mistake,
as I will never consent to such a thing."

"He is old, but he is very rich."

"He is very rich and very generous, for he promises me a dowry of a
million if I become a widow without children; and if I had a son he
would leave me all his property."

"You wouldn't have much difficulty in complying with the second
alternative."

"I shall never have anything to do with his money, for I should never
make my life miserable by a marriage with a man whom I do not love,
while I do love another."

"Another!  Who is the fortunate mortal to whom you have given your
heart's treasure?"

"I do not know if my loved one is fortunate.  My lover is a Venetian,
and my mother knows of it; but she says that I should not be happy,
that he is not worthy of me."

"Your mother is a strange woman, always crossing your affections."

"I cannot be angry with her.  She may possibly be wrong, but she
certainly loves me.  She would rather that I should marry M. 
Farsetti, who would be very glad to have me, but I detest him."

"Has he made a declaration in terms?"

"He has, and all the marks of contempt I have given him seem to have
no effect."

"He clings hard to hope; but the truth is you have fascinated him."

"Possibly, but I do not think him susceptible of any tender or
generous feeling.  He is a visionary; surly, jealous, and envious in
his disposition.  When he heard me expressing myself about you in the
manner you deserve, he had the impudence to say to my mother before
my face that she ought not to receive you."

"He deserves that I should give him a lesson in manners, but there
are other ways in which he may be punished.  I shall be delighted to
serve you in any way I can."

"Alas! if I could only count on your friendship I should be happy."

The sigh with which she uttered these words sent fire through my
veins, and I told her that I was her devoted slave; that I had fifty
thousand crowns which were at her service, and that I would risk my
life to win her favours.  She replied that she was truly grateful to
me, and as she threw her arms about my neck our lips met, but I saw
that she was weeping, so I took care that the fire which her kisses
raised should be kept within bounds.  She begged me to come and see
her often, promising that as often as she could manage it we should
be alone.  I could ask no more, and after I had promised to come and
dine with them on the morrow, we parted.

I passed an hour in walking behind her, enjoying my new position of
intimate friend, and I then returned to my Little Poland.  It was a
short distance, for though I lived in the country I could get to any
part of Paris in a quarter of an hour.  I had a clever coachman, and
capital horses not used to being spared.  I got them from the royal
stables, and as soon as I lost one I got another from the same place,
having to pay two hundred francs.  This happened to me several times,
for, to my mind, going fast is one of the greatest pleasures which
Paris offers.

Having accepted an invitation to dinner at the X. C. V.'s, I did not
give myself much time for sleep, and I went out on foot with a cloak
on.  The snow was falling in large flakes, and when I got to madame's
I was as white as a sheet from head to foot.  She gave me a hearty
welcome, laughing, and saying that her daughter had been telling her
how she had puzzled me, and that she was delighted to see me come to
dinner without ceremony.  "But," added she, "it's Friday today, and
you will have to fast, though, after all, the fish is very good. 
Dinner is not ready yet.  You had better go and see my daughter, who
is still a-bed."

As may be imagined, this invitation had not to be repeated, for a
pretty woman looks better in bed than anywhere else.  I found Mdlle. 
X. C. V. sitting up in bed writing, but she stopped as soon as she
saw me.

"How is this, sweet lie-a-bed, not up yet?"

"Yes, I am staying in bed partly because I feel lazy, and partly
because I am freer here."

"I was afraid you were not quite well."

"Nor am I.  However, we will say no more about that now.  I am just
going to take some soup, as those who foolishly establish the
institution of fasting were not polite enough to ask my opinion on
the subject.  It does not agree with my health, and I don't like it,
so I am not going to get up even to sit at table, though I shall thus
deprive myself of your society."

I naturally told her that in her absence dinner would have no savour;
and I spoke the truth.

As the presence of her sister did not disturb us, she took out of her
pocket-book an epistle in verse which I had addressed to her when her
mother had forbidden me the house.  "This fatal letter," said she,
"which you called 'The Phoenix,' has shaped my life and may prove the
cause of my death."

I had called it the Phoenix because, after bewailing my unhappy lot,
I proceeded to predict how she would afterwards give her heart to a
mortal whose qualities would make him deserve the name of Phoenix.  A
hundred lines were taken up in the description of these imaginary
mental and moral characteristics, and certainly the being who should
have them all would be right worthy of worship, for he would be
rather a god than a man.

"Alas!" said Mdlle. X. C. V., "I fell in love with this imaginary
being, and feeling certain that such an one must exist I set myself
to look for him.  After six months I thought I had found him.  I gave
him my heart, I received his, we loved each other fondly.  But for
the last four months we have been separated, and during the whole
time I have only had one letter from him.  Yet I must not blame him,
for I know he cannot help it.  Such, is my sorry fate: I can neither
hear from him nor write to him:"

This story was a confirmation of a theory of mine namely, that the
most important events in our lives proceed often from the most
trifling causes.  My epistle was nothing better than a number of
lines of poetry more or less well written, and the being I had
delineated was certainly not to be found, as he surpassed by far all
human perfections, but a woman's heart travels so quickly and so far! 
Mdlle. X. C. V. took the thing literally, and fell in love with a
chimera of goodness, and then was fain to turn this into a real
lover, not thinking of the vast difference between the ideal and the
real.  For all that, when she thought that she had found the original
of my fancy portrait, she had no difficulty in endowing him with all
the good qualities I had pictured.  Of course Mdlle. X. C. V. would
have fallen in love if I had never written her a letter in verse, but
she would have done so in a different manner, and probably with
different results.

As soon as dinner was served we were summoned to do justice to the
choice fish which M. de la Popeliniere had provided.  Madame X. C. V.
a narrowminded Greek, was naturally bigoted and superstitious.  In
the mind of a silly woman the idea of an alliance between the most
opposite of beings, God and the Devil, seems quite natural.  A priest
had told her that, since she had converted her husband, her salvation
was secure, for the Scriptures solemnly promised a soul for a soul to
every one who would lead a heretic or a heathen within the fold of
the church.  And as Madame X. C. V. had converted her husband, she
felt no anxiety about the life of the world to come, as she had done
all that was necessary.  However, she ate fish on the days appointed;
the reason being that she preferred it to flesh.

Dinner over, I returned to the lady's bedside, and there stayed till
nearly nine o'clock, keeping my passions well under control all the
time.  I was foppish enough to think that her feelings were as lively
as mine, and I did not care to shew myself less self-restrained than
she, though I knew then, as I know now, that this was a false line of
argument.  It is the same with opportunity as with fortune; one must
seize them when they come to us, or else they go by, often to return
no more.

Not seeing Farsetti at the table, I suspected there had been a
quarrel, and I asked my sweetheart about it; but she told me I was
mistaken in supposing they had quarreled with him, and that the
reason of his absence was that he would never leave his house on a
Friday.  The deluded man had had his horoscope drawn, and learning by
it that he would be assassinated on a Friday he resolved always to
shut himself up on that day.  He was laughed at, but persisted in the
same course till he died four years ago at the age of seventy.  He
thought to prove by the success of his precautions that a man's
destiny depends on his discretion, and on the precautions he takes to
avoid the misfortunes of which he has had warning.  The line of
argument holds good in all cases except when the misfortunes are
predicted in a horoscope; for either the ills predicted are
avoidable, in which case the horoscope is a useless piece of folly,
or else the horoscope is the interpreter of destiny, in which case
all the precautions in the world are of no avail.  The Chevalier
Farsetti was therefore a fool to imagine he had proved anything at
all.  He would have proved a good deal for many people if he had gone
out on a Friday, and had chanced to have been assassinated.  Picas de
la Mirandola, who believed in astrology, says, "I have no doubt
truly, 'Astra influunt, non cogunt'.  "But would it have been a real
proof of the truth of astrology, if Farsetti had been assassinated on
a Friday?  In my opinion, certainly not.

The Comte d'Eigreville had introduced me to his sister, the Comtesse
du Remain, who had been wanting to make my acquaintance ever since
she had heard of my oracle.  It was not long before I made friends
with her husband and her two daughters, the elder of whom, nicknamed
"Cotenfau," married M. de Polignac later on.  Madame du Remain was
handsome rather than pretty, but she won the love of all by her
kindness, her frank courtesy, and her eagerness to be of service to
her friends.  She had a magnificent figure, and would have awed the
whole bench of judges if she had pleaded before them.

At her house I got to know Mesdames de Valbelle and de Rancerolles,
the Princess de Chimai, and many others who were then in the best
society of Paris.  Although Madame du Remain was not a proficient in
the occult sciences, she had nevertheless consulted my oracle more
frequently than Madame d'Urfe.  She was of the utmost service to me
in connection with an unhappy circumstance of which I shall speak
presently.

The day after my long conversation with Mdlle.  X. C. V., my servant
told me that there was a young man waiting who wanted to give me a
letter with his own hands.  I had him in, and on my asking him from
whom the letter came, he replied that I should find all particulars
in the letter, and that he had orders to wait for an answer.  The
epistle ran as follows:

"I am writing this at two o'clock in the morning.  I am weary and in
need of rest, but a burden on my soul deprives me of sleep.  The
secret I am about to tell you will no longer be so grievous when I
have confided in you; I shall feel eased by placing it in your
breast.  I am with child, and my situation drives me to despair.  I
was obliged to write to you because I felt I could not say it.  Give
me a word in reply."

My feelings on reading the above may be guessed.  I was petrified
with astonishment and could only write, "I will be with you at eleven
o'clock."

No one should say that he has passed through great misfortunes unless
they have proved too great for his mind to bear.  The confidence of
Mdlle. X. C. V. shewed me that she was in need of support.  I
congratulated myself on having the preference, and I vowed to do my
best for her did it cost me my life.  These were the thoughts of a
lover, but for all that I could not conceal from myself the
imprudence of the step she had taken.  In such cases as these there
is always the choice between speaking or writing, and the only
feeling which can give the preference to writing is false shame, at
bottom mere cowardice.  If I had not been in love with her, I should
have found it easier to have refused my aid in writing than if she
had spoken to me, but I loved her to distraction.

"Yes," said I to myself, "she can count on me.  Her mishap makes her
all the dearer to me."

And below this there was another voice, a voice which whispered to me
that if I succeeded in saving her my reward was sure.  I am well
aware that more than one grave moralist will fling stones at me for
this avowal, but my answer is that such men cannot be in love as I
was.

I was punctual to my appointment, and found the fair unfortunate at
the door of the hotel.

"You are going out, are you?  Where are you going?"

"I am going to mass at the Church of the Augustinians."

"Is this a saint's day?"

"No; but my mother makes me go every day."

"I will come with you."

"Yes do, give me your arm; we will go into the cloisters and talk
there."

Mdlle.  X. C. V. was accompanied by her maid, but she knew better
than to be in the way, so we left her in the cloisters.  As soon as
we were alone she said to me,

"Have you read my letter?"

"Yes, of course; here it is, burn it yourself."

"No, keep it, and do so with your own hands."

"I see you trust in me, and I assure you I will not abuse your
trust."

"I am sure you will not.  I am four months with child; I can doubt it
no longer, and the thought maddens me!"

"Comfort yourself, we will find some way to get over it."

"Yes; I leave all to you.  You must procure an abortion."

"Never, dearest!  that is a crime!"

"Alas! I know that well; but it is not a greater crime than suicide,
and there lies my choice: either to destroy the wretched witness of
my shame, or to poison myself.  For the latter alternative I have
everything ready.  You are my only friend, and it is for you to
decide which it shall be.  Speak to me!  Are you angry that I have
not gone to the Chevalier Farsetti before you?"

She saw my astonishment, and stopped short, and tried to wipe away
the tears which escaped from her eyes.  My heart bled for her.

"Laying the question of crime on one side," said I, "abortion is out
of our power.  If the means employed are not violent they are
uncertain, and if they are violent they are dangerous to the mother. 
I will never risk becoming your executioner; but reckon on me, I will
not forsake you.  Your honour is as dear to me as your life.  Becalm,
and henceforth think that the peril is mine, not yours.  Make up your
mind that I shall find some way of escape, and that there will be no
need to cut short that life, to preserve which I would gladly die. 
And allow me to say that when I read your note I felt glad, I could
not help it, that at such an emergency you chose me before all others
to be your helper.  You will find that your trust was not given in
vain, for no one loves you as well as I, and no one is so fain to
help you.  Later you shall begin to take the remedies I will get for 
you, but I warn you to be on your guard, for this is a serious
matter--one of life and death.  Possibly you have already told
somebody about it--your maid or one of your sisters?"

"I have not told anybody but you, not even the author of my shame.  
I tremble when I think what my mother would do and say if she found
out my situation.  I am afraid she will draw her conclusions from my
shape."

"So far there is nothing to be observed in that direction, the beauty
of the outline still remains intact."

"But every day increases its size, and for that reason we must be
quick in what we do.  You must find a surgeon who does not know my
name and take me to him to be bled."

"I will not run the risk, it might lead to the discovery of the whole
affair.  I will bleed you myself; it is a simple operation."

"How grateful I am to you!  I feel as if you had already brought me
from death to life.  What I should like you to do would be to take me
to a midwife's.  We can easily go without attracting any notice at
the first ball at the opera."

"Yes, sweetheart, but that step is not necessary, and it might lead
to our betrayal."

"No, no, in this great town there are midwives in every quarter, and
we should never be known; we might keep our masks on all the time. 
Do me this kindness.  A midwife's opinion is certainly worth having."

I could not refuse her request, but I made her agree to wait till the
last ball, as the crowd was always greater, and we had a better
chance of going out free from observation.  I promised to be there in
a black domino with a white mask in the Venetian fashion, and a rose
painted beside the left eye.  As soon as she saw me go out she was to
follow me into a carriage.  All this was carried out, but more of it
anon.

I returned with her, and dined with them without taking any notice of
Farsetti, who was also at the table, and had seen me come back from
mass with her.  We did not speak a word to one another; he did not
like me and I despised him.

I must here relate a grievous mistake of which I was guilty, and
which I have not yet forgiven myself.

I had promised to take Mdlle. X. C. V. to a midwife, but I certainly
ought to have taken her to a respectable woman's, for all we wanted
to know was how a pregnant woman should regulate her diet and manner
of living.  But my evil genius took me by the Rue St. Louis, and
there I saw the Montigni entering her house with a pretty girl whom I
did not know, and so out of curiosity I went in after them.  After
amusing myself there, with Mdlle. X. C. V. running in my head all the
time, I asked the woman to give me the address of a midwife, as I
wanted to consult one.  She told me of a house in the Marais, where
according to her dwelt the pearl of midwives, and began telling me
some stories of her exploits, which all went to prove that the woman
was an infamous character.  I took her address, however, and as I
should have to go there by night, I went the next day to see where
the house was.

Mdlle. X. C. V. began to take the remedies which I brought her, which
ought to have weakened and destroyed the result of love, but as she
did not experience any benefit, she was impatient to consult a
midwife.  On the night of the last ball she recognized me as we had
agreed, and followed me out into the coach she saw me enter, and in
less than a quarter of an hour we reached the house of shame.

A woman of about fifty received us with great politeness, and asked
what she could do.

Mdlle.  X. C. V. told her that she believed herself pregnant, and
that she desired some means of concealing her misfortune.  The wretch
answered with a smile that she might as well tell her plainly that it
would be easy to procure abortion.  "I will do your business," said
she, "for fifty Louis, half to be paid in advance on account of
drugs, and the rest when it's all over.  I will trust in your
honesty, and you will have to trust in mine.  Give me the twenty-five
Louis down, and come or send to-morrow for the drugs, and
instructions for using them."

So saying she turned up her clothes without any ceremony, and as I,
at Mdlle.  X. C. V.'s request, looked away, she felt her and
pronounced, as she let down her dress, that she was not beyond the
fourth month.

"If my drugs," said she, "contrary to my expectation, do not do any
good, we will try some other ways, and, in any case, if I do not
succeed in obliging you I will return you your money."

"I don't doubt it for a moment," said I, "but would you tell me what
are those other ways!"

"I should tell the lady how to destroy the foetus."

I might have told her that to kill the child meant giving a mortal
wound to the mother, but I did not feel inclined to enter into a
argument with this vile creature.

"If madame decides on taking your advice," said I, "I will bring you
the money for drugs to-morrow."

I gave her two Louis and left.  Mdlle. X. C. V. told me that she had
no doubt of the infamy of this woman, as she was sure it was
impossible to destroy the offspring without the risk of killing the
mother also.  "My only trust," said she, "is in you."  I encouraged
her in this idea, dissuading her from any criminal attempts, and
assured her over and over again that she should not find her trust in
me misplaced.  All at once she complained of feeling cold, and asked
if we had not time to warm ourselves in Little Poland, saying that
she longed to see my pretty house.  I was surprised and delighted
with the idea.  The night was too dark for her to see the exterior
charms of my abode, she would have to satisfy herself with the
inside, and leave the rest to her imagination.  I thought my hour had
come.  I made the coach stop and we got down and walked some way, and
then took another at the corner of the Rue de la Ferannerie.  I
promised the coachman six francs beyond his fare, and in a quarter of
an hour he put us down at my door.

I rang with the touch of the master, the Pearl opened the door, and
told me that there was nobody within, as I very well knew, but it was
her habit to do so.

"Quick!" said I, "light us a fire, and bring some glasses and a
bottle of champagne."

"Would you like an omelette?"

"Very well."

"Oh, I should like an omelette so much!" said Mdlle. X. C. V.  She
was ravishing, and her laughing air seemed to promise me a moment of
bliss.  I sat down before the blazing fire and made her sit on my
knee, covering her with kisses which she gave me back as lovingly.  I
had almost won what I wanted when she asked me in a sweet voice to
stop.  I obeyed, thinking it would please her, feeling sure that she
only delayed my victory to make it more complete, and that she would
surrender after the champagne.  I saw love, kindness, trust, and
gratitude shining in her face, and I should have been sorry for her
to think that I claimed her as a mere reward.  No, I wanted her love,
and nothing but her love.

At last we got to our last glass of champagne, we rose from the
table, and sentimentally but with gentle force I laid her on a couch
and held her amorously in my arms.  But instead of giving herself up
to my embraces she resisted them, at first by those prayers which
usually make lovers more enterprising, then by serious remonstrances,
and at last by force.  This was too much, the mere idea of using
violence has always shocked me, and I am still of opinion that the
only pleasure in the amorous embrace springs from perfect union and
agreement.  I pleaded my cause in every way, I painted myself as the
lover flattered, deceived, despised!  At last I told her that I had
had a cruel awakening, and I saw that the shaft went home.  I fell on
my knees and begged her to forgive me.  "Alas!" said she, in a voice
full of sadness, "I am no longer mistress of my heart, and have far
greater cause for grief than you."  The tears flowed fast down her
cheeks, her head rested on my shoulder, and our lips met; but for all
that the piece was over.  The idea of renewing the attack never came
into my head, and if it had I should have scornfully rejected it. 
After a long silence, of which we both stood in need, she to conquer
her shame, and I to repress my anger, we put on our masks and
returned to the opera.  On our way she dared to tell me that she
should be obliged to decline my friendship if she had to pay for it
so dearly.

"The emotions of love," I replied, "should yield to those of honour,
and your honour as well as mine require us to continue friends.  What
I would have done for love I will now do for devoted friendship, and
for the future I will die rather than make another attempt to gain
those favours of which I thought you deemed me worthy."

We separated at the opera, and the vast crowd made me lose sight of
her in an instant.  Next day she told me that she had danced all
night.  She possibly hoped to find in that exercise the cure which no
medicine seemed likely to give her.

I returned to my house in a bad humour, trying in vain to justify a
refusal which seemed humiliating and almost incredible.  My good
sense shewed me, in spite of all sophisms, that I had been grievously
insulted.  I recollected the witty saying of Populia, who was never
unfaithful to her husband except when she was with child; "Non tollo
vectorem," said she, "nisi navi plena."

I felt certain that I was not loved, and the thought grieved me; and
I considered that it would be unworthy of me to love one whom I could
no longer hope to possess.  I resolved to avenge myself by leaving
her to her fate, feeling that I could not allow myself to be duped as
I had been.

The night brought wisdom with it, and when I awoke in the morning my
mind was calm and I was still in love.  I determined to act
generously by the unfortunate girl.  Without my aid she would be
ruined; my course, then, would be to continue my services and to shew
myself indifferent to her favours.  The part was no easy one, but I
played it right well, and at last my reward came of itself.