I passed the whole of the next morning in writing to Madame.  I told her circumstantially all I had done, in spite of my promise to consult her, and I sent her copies of all the letters to convince her that our enemy had gone to Lucerne with the idea that her vengeance had been only an imaginary one.  Thus I shewed her that her honour was perfectly safe.  I ended by telling her that I had noticed the first symptoms of the disease, but that I was certain of getting rid of it in a very few days.  I sent my letter through her nurse, and in two days’ time I had a few lines from her informing me that I should see her in the course of the week in company with her husband and M. de Chavigni.

Unhappy I!  I was obliged to renounce all thoughts of love, but my Dubois, who was with me nearly all day on account of Le Duc’s illness, began to stand me in good stead.  The more I determined to be only a friend to her, the more I was taken with her; and it was in vain that I told myself that from seeing her without any love-making my sentiment for her would die a natural death.  I had made her a present of a ring, telling her that whenever she wanted to get rid of it I would give her a hundred louis for it; but this could only happen in time of need—­an impossible contingency while she continued with me, and I had no idea of sending her away.  She was natural and sincere, endowed with a ready wit and good reasoning powers.  She had never been in love, and she had only married to please Lady Montagu.  She only wrote to her mother, and to please her I read the letters.  They were full of filial piety, and were admirably written.

One day the fancy took me to ask to read the letters her mother wrote in reply.  “She never replies,” said she, “For an excellent reason, namely, that she cannot write.  I thought she was dead when I came back from England, and it was a happy surprise to find her in perfect health when I got to Lausanne.”

“Who came with you from England?”

“Nobody.”

“I can’t credit that.  Young, beautiful, well dressed, obliged to associate casually with all kinds of people, young men and profligates (for there are such everywhere), how did you manage to defend yourself?”

“Defend myself?  I never needed to do so.  The best plan for a young woman is never to stare at any man, to pretend not to hear certain questions and certainly not to answer them, to sleep by herself in a room where there is a lock and key, or with the landlady when possible.  When a girl has travelling adventures, one may safely say that she has courted them, for it is easy to be discreet in all countries if one wishes.”