me in a situation to offer my services to M. Basile on his return; but there was something so false, malicious, and ironical, in his air and manner, that it was by no means calculated to inspire me with confidence.  Madam Basile, replied archly, that I was much obliged to him for his kind offer, but she hoped fortune would be more favorable to my merits, for it would be a great misfortune, with so much sense, that I should only be a pitiful clerk.

She often said, she would procure me some acquaintance that might be useful; she doubtless felt the necessity of parting with me, and had prudently resolved on it.  Our mute declaration had been made on Thursday, the Sunday following she gave a dinner.  A Jacobin of good appearance was among the guests, to whom she did me the honor to present me.  The monk treated me very affectionately, congratulated me on my late conversion, mentioned several particulars of my story, which plainly showed he had been made acquainted with it, then, tapping me familiarly on the cheek, bade me be good, to keep up my spirits, and come to see him at his convent, where he should have more opportunity to talk with me.  I judged him to be a person of some consequence by the deference that was paid him; and by the paternal tone he assumed with Madam Basile, to be her confessor.  I likewise remember that his decent familiarity was attended with an appearance of esteem, and even respect for his fair penitent, which then made less impression on me than at present.  Had I possessed more experience how should I have congratulated myself on having touched the heart of a young woman respected by her confessor!

The table not being large enough to accommodate all the company, a small one was prepared, where I had the satisfaction of dining with our agreeable clerk; but I lost nothing with regard to attention and good cheer, for several plates were sent to the side-table which were certainly not intended for him.

Thus far all went well; the ladies were in good spirits, and the gentlemen very gallant, while Madam Basile did the honors of the table with peculiar grace.  In the midst of the dinner we heard a chaise stop at the door, and presently some one coming up stairs—­it was M. Basile.  Methinks I now see him entering, in his scarlet coat with gold buttons —­from that day I have held the color in abhorrence.  M. Basile was a tall handsome man, of good address:  he entered with a consequential look and an air of taking his family unawares, though none but friends were present.  His wife ran to meet him, threw her arms about his neck, and gave him a thousand caresses, which he received with the utmost indifference; and without making any return saluted the company and took his place at table.  They were just beginning to speak of his journey, when casting his eye on the small table he asked in a sharp tone, what lad that was?  Madam Basile answered ingenuously.  He then inquired whether I lodged in the house; and