As soon as I had made a new choice I saw no more of my old loves, but I continued to provide for them, and that with a good deal of money.  Madame d’Urfe, who thought I was rich, gave me no trouble.  I made her happy by using my oracle to second the magical ceremonies of which she grew fonder every day, although she never attained her aim.  Manon Baletti, however, grieved me sorely by her jealousy and her well-founded reproaches.  She would not understand—­and I did not wonder at it—­how I could put off marrying her if I really loved her.  She accused me of deceiving her.  Her mother died of consumption in our arms.  Silvia had won my true friendship.  I looked upon her as a most worthy woman, whose kindness of heart and purity of life deserved the esteem of all.  I stayed in the family for three days after her death, sincerely sympathizing with them in their affliction.

A few days afterwards, my friend Tiretta lost his mistress through a grievous illness.  Four days before her death, perceiving that she was near her end, she willed to consecrate to God that which man could have no longer, and dismissed her lover with the gift of a valuable jewel and a purse of two hundred louis.  Tiretta marched off and came and told me the sad news.  I got him a lodging near the Temple, and a month after, approving his idea to try his fortune in India, I gave him a letter of introduction to M. d’O——­, of Amsterdam; and in the course of a week this gentleman got him a post as clerk, and shipped him aboard one of the company’s ships which was bound for Batavia.  If he had behaved well he might have become a rich man, but he got involved in some conspiracy and had to fly, and afterwards experienced many vicissitudes of fortune.  I heard from one of his relations that he was in Bengal in 1788, in good circumstances, but unable to realize his property and so return to his native country.  I do not know what became of him eventually.

In the beginning of November an official belonging to the Duc d’Elbeuf’s household came to my establishment to buy a wedding dress for his daughter.  I was dazzled with her beauty.  She chose a fine satin, and her pretty face lighted up when she heard her father say he did not think it was too much; but she looked quite piteous when she heard the clerk tell her father that he would have to buy the whole piece, as they could not cut it.  I felt that I must give in, and to avoid making an exception in her favour I beat a hasty retreat into my private room.  I wish I had gone out of the house, as I should have saved a good deal of money; but what pleasure should I have also lost!  In her despair the charming girl begged the manager to take her to me, and he dared not refuse to do so.  She came in; two big tears falling down her cheeks and dimming the ardour of her gaze.

“Oh, sir!” she began, “you are rich, do you buy the piece and let me have enough for a dress, which will make me happy.”

I looked at her father and saw he wore an apologetic air, as if deprecating the boldness of his child.