It was at Saint-Thomas d’Aquin, where, as you know, I go to hear mass, that this annoying obsession began.  I used almost daily to take my children to walk in the Tuileries, as the house we have hired here has no garden.  This habit being noticed by my persecutor, I found him repeatedly there and wherever else I might be met outside of my own home.  Perfectly discreet, although so audacious, this singular follower never accompanied me to my own door; he kept at a sufficient distance to give me the comfort of feeling that his foolish assiduity would not be observed by others.

Heaven only knows the sacrifices and annoyances I have borne to be rid of him.  I never go to church now except on Sundays; I often keep my dear children at home to the injury of their health; or else I make excuses not to accompany them, and against all the principles of my education and prudence, I leave them to the care of the servants.  Visits, shopping I do only in a carriage, which did not prevent my shadow from being at hand when the accident happened to Nais, and saving her life, an act that was brave and providential.

But it is precisely this great obligation I am now under which makes —­does it not, I appeal to you?—­a most deplorable complication.

In the first place, about thanking him.  If I do that, I encourage him, and he would certainly take advantage of it to change the character of our present intercourse.  But if I pass him without notice—­think of it! a mother—­a mother who owes him the life of her daughter, to pretend not to see him! to pass him without a single word of gratitude!

That, however, is the intolerable alternative in which I find myself placed, and you can now see how much I need the counsels of your experience.  What can I do to break the unpleasant habit this man has taken of being my shadow?  How shall I thank him without encouraging him? or not thank him without incurring self-reproach?

Those are the problems submitted to your wisdom.  If you will do me the kindness to solve them—­and I know no one so capable—­I shall add gratitude to all the other affectionate sentiments which, as you know, I have so long felt for you.

III

THE COMTE DE L’ESTORADE TO MONSIEUR MARIE-GASTON

Paris, February, 1839.

Perhaps, my dear Monsieur Gaston, the public journals will have told you before this letter can arrive of the duel fought yesterday between your friend Monsieur Dorlange and the Duc de Rhetore.  But the papers, while announcing the fact as a piece of news, are debarred by custom and propriety from inferring the motives of a quarrel, and therefore they will only excite your curiosity without satisfying it.

I have, fortunately, heard from a very good source, all the details of the affair, and I hasten to transmit them to you; they are, I think, of a nature to interest you to the highest degree.