By abandoning such a nature, more terrible than seductive, to itself, Monsieur de l’Estorade will, I think, agree that I was likely to cause some misfortune.  I consented, therefore, that Signora Luigia should accompany me to Paris.  Since then she has managed my household with discretion and economy.  She even offered to pose for my Pandora; but the memory of that scene with her husband has, as you may well believe, kept me from accepting her offer.  I have given her a singing-master, and she is now almost prepared to make her appearance on the stage.  But in spite of her theatrical projects, she, pious like all Italians, has joined the sisterhood of the Virgin in Saint-Sulpice, my parish church, and during the month of May, which began a few days ago, the letter of chairs counts on her beautiful voice for part of her receipts.  She is assiduous at the services, confesses, and takes the sacrament regularly.  Her confessor, a most respectable old man, came to see me lately to request that she might not be required to pose for any more of my statues, saying that she would not listen to him on that point, believing herself bound in honor to me.

My own intention, if I am elected, which now seems probable, is to separate from this woman.  In a position which will place me more before the public, she would become an object of remark as injurious to her reputation and future prospects as to mine.  I have talked with Marie-Gaston about the difficulty I foresee in making this separation.  Until now, my house has been the whole of Paris to this poor woman; and the thought of flinging her alone into the gulf, of which she knows nothing, horrifies me.

Marie-Gaston thinks that the help and advice of a person of her own sex, with a high reputation for virtue and good judgment, would be in such a case most efficacious; and he declares that he and I both know a lady who, at our earnest entreaty, might take this duty upon herself.  The person to whom Marie-Gaston makes allusion is but a recent acquaintance of mine, and I could hardly ask even an old friend to take such a care upon her shoulders.  I know, however, that you once did me the honor to say that “certain relations ripen rapidly.”  Marie-Gaston insists that this lady, being kind and pious and most charitable, will be attracted by the idea of helping and advising a poor lonely woman.  On our return to Paris, madame, we shall venture to consult you, and you will tell us whether we may ask for this precious assistance.

In any case, I will ask you to be my intermediary with Monsieur de l’Estorade; tell him the facts I have now told you, and say that I hope the little cloud between us may be effectually removed.  If I am elected, we shall be, I know, in opposite camps; but as my intention is not to take a tone of systematic opposition in all the questions which may arise between our parties, I do not think there need be any break between us.

By this time to-morrow, madame, I may have received a checkmate which will send me back forever to my studio, or I shall have a foot in a new career.  Shall I tell you that the thought of the latter result distresses me?—­doubtless from a fear of the Unknown.