As he was well read, and spoke fluently, his conversation was both amusing and instructive.  When I afterwards took a taste for study, I cultivated his acquaintance, and found my account in it:  when at Chambery, I frequently went from thence to see him.  His praises increased my emulation, to which he added some good advice respecting the prosecution of my studies, which I found useful.  Unhappily, this weakly body contained a very feeling soul.  Some years after, he was chagrined by I know not what unlucky affair, but it cost him his life.  This was really unfortunate, for he was a good little man, whom at a first acquaintance one laughed at, but afterwards loved.  Though our situations in life were very little connected with each other, as I received some useful lessons from him, I thought gratitude demanded that I should dedicate a few sentences to his memory.

As soon as I found myself at liberty, I ran into the street where Mademoiselle Galley lived, flattering myself that I should see someone go in or out, or at least open a window, but I was mistaken, not even a cat appeared, the house remaining as close all the time as if it had been uninhabited.  The street was small and lonely, any one loitering about was, consequently, more likely to be noticed; from time to time people passed in and out of the neighborhood; I was much embarrassed, thinking my person might be known, and the cause that brought me there conjectured; this idea tortured me, for I have ever preferred the honor and happiness of those I love to my own pleasures.

At length, weary of playing the Spanish lover, and having no guitar, I determined to write to Mademoiselle de G——.  I should have preferred writing to her friend, but did not dare take that liberty, as it appeared more proper to begin with her to whom I owed the acquaintance, and with whom I was most familiar.  Having written my letter, I took it to Mademoiselle Giraud, as the young ladies had agreed at parting, they having furnished me with this expedient.  Mademoiselle Giraud was a quilter, and sometimes worked at Madam Galley’s, which procured her free admission to the house.  I must confess, I was not thoroughly satisfied with this messenger, but was cautious of starting difficulties, fearing that if I objected to her no other might be named, and it was impossible to intimate that she had an inclination to me herself.  I even felt humiliated that she should think I could imagine her of the same sex as those young ladies:  in a word, I accepted her agency rather than none, and availed myself of it at all events.