In the evening of the fourth day after, Lebel was announced.  He embraced me, saying his happiness would be due to me.  He then left me, telling me he would expect me at the house of his future bride.

“Excuse me to-day, my dear fellow,” said I, “but I will dine with you there to-morrow.”

When he had left me, I told Le Duc to make all preparations for our leaving the next day after dinner.

I went out early on the following day to take leave of everybody, and at noon Lebel came to take me to that sad repast, at which, however, I was not so sad as I had feared.

As I was leaving I begged the future Madame Lebel to return me the ring I had given her, and as we had agreed, I presented her with a roll of a hundred Louis, which she took with a melancholy air.

“I should never have sold it,” she said, “for I have no need of money.”

“In that case I will give it back to you, but promise me never to part with it, and keep the hundred Louis as some small reward of the services you have rendered me.”

She shook my hand affectionately, put on my finger her wedding ring, and left me to hide her grief.  I wiped my tears away, and said to Lebel,

“You are about to possess yourself of a treasure which I cannot commend too highly.  You are a man of honour; you will appreciate her excellent qualities, and you will know how to make her happy.  She will love you only, take care of your household, and keep no secrets from you.  She is full of wit and spirits, and will easily disperse the slightest shadow of ill humour which may fall on you.”

I went in with him to the mother’s room to take leave of her, and Madame Dubois begged me to delay my departure and sup once more with her.  I told her that my horses were put in and the carriage waiting at my door, and that such a delay would set tongues talking; but that if she liked, she, her future husband and her mother, could come and see me at an inn two leagues off on the Geneva road, where we could stay as long as we liked.  Lebel approved of the plan, and my proposition was accepted.

When I got back to my inn I found my carriage ready, and I got in and drove to the meeting-place, and ordered a good supper for four, and an hour later my guests arrived.

The gay and even happy air of the newly betrothed surprised me, but what astonished me more was the easy way with which she threw herself into my arms as soon as she saw me.  It put me quite out of countenance, but she had more wit than I. However, I mustered up sufficient strength to follow her cue, but I could not help thinking that if she had really loved me she would not have found it possible to pass thus from love to mere friendship.  However, I imitated her, and made no objections to those marks of affection allowed to friendship, which are supposed to have no tincture of love in them.