“He has gone away in a rage,” said the mother; “and I would wager anything that he will not come back again.”

“I wager he will,” said the daughter, “he will honour us with his agreeable company before to-morrow’s sun has set.”

She was right.  From that day Farsetti became my determined enemy, and let no opportunity slip of convincing me of his hatred.

After dinner we all went to Passy to be present at a concert given by M. de la Popeliniere, who made us stay to supper.  I found there Silvia and her charming daughter, who pouted at me and not without cause, as I had neglected her.  The famous adept, St. Germain, enlivened the table with his wild tirades so finely delivered.  I have never seen a more intellectual or amusing charlatan than he.

Next day I shut myself up to answer a host of questions that Esther had sent me.  I took care to answer all those bearing on business matters as obscurely as possible, not only for the credit of the oracle, but also for fear of misleading the father and making him lose money.  The worthy man was the most honest of Dutch millionaires, but he might easily make a large hole in his fortune, if he did not absolutely ruin himself, by putting an implicit trust in my infallibility.  As for Esther, I confess that she was now no more to me than a pleasant memory.

In spite of my pretence of indifference, my whole heart was given to Mdlle.  X. C. V., and I dreaded the moment when she would be no longer able to hide her condition from her family.  I was sorry for having spoken about the aroph, as three days had gone by without her mentioning it, and I could not very well reopen the question myself.  I was afraid that she suspected my motives, and that the esteem she professed for me had been replaced by a much less friendly sentiment.  I felt that her scorn would be too much for me to bear.  So humiliated was I that I could not visit her, and I doubt if I should have seen her again if she had not intervened.  She wrote me a note, in which she said I was her only friend, and that the only mark of friendship she wanted was that I should come and see her every day, if it were but for a moment.  I hasted to take her my reply in my own person, and promised not to neglect her, assuring her that at all hazards she might rely on me.  I flattered myself that she would mention the aroph, but she did not do so.  I concluded that, after thinking it over, she had resolved to think no more about it.

“Would you like me,” I said, “to invite your mother and the rest of you to dine with me?”

“I shall be delighted,” she replied.  “It will be a forbidden pleasure to me before long.”

I gave them a dinner both sumptuous and delicate.  I had spared no expense to have everything of the best.  I had asked Silvia, her charming daughter, an Italian musician named Magali, with whom a sister of Mdlle.  X. C. V.’s was taken, and the famous bass La Garde.  Mdlle.  X. C. V. was in the highest spirits all the time.  Sallies of wit, jests, good stories and enjoyment, were the soul of the banquet.  We did not separate till midnight, and before leaving Mdlle.  X. C. V. found a moment to whisper to me to come and see her early next morning, as she wanted to speak to me on matters of importance.