was answered in the negative.  “Why not?” replied he, rudely, “since he stays here all day, he might as well remain all night too.”  The monk now interfered, with a serious and true eulogium on Madam Basile:  in a few words he made mine also, adding, that so far from blaming, he ought to further the pious charity of his wife, since it was evident she had not passed the bounds of discretion.  The husband answered with an air of petulance, which (restrained by the presence of the monk) he endeavored to stifle; it was, however, sufficient to let me understand he had already received information of me, and that our worthy clerk had rendered me an ill office.

We had hardly risen from table, when the latter came in triumph from his employer, to inform me, I must leave the house that instant, and never more during my life dare to set foot there.  He took care to aggravate this commission by everything that could render it cruel and insulting.  I departed without a word, my heart overwhelmed with sorrow, less for being obliged to quit this amiable woman, than at the thought of leaving her to the brutality of such a husband.  He was certainly right to wish her faithful; but though prudent and wellborn, she was an Italian, that is to say, tender and vindictive; which made me think, he was extremely imprudent in using means the most likely in the world to draw on himself the very evil he so much dreaded.

Such was the success of my first adventure.  I walked several times up and down the street, wishing to get a sight of what my heart incessantly regretted; but I could only discover her husband, or the vigilant clerk, who, perceiving me, made a sign with the ell they used in the shop, which was more expressive than alluring:  finding, therefore, that I was so completely watched, my courage failed, and I went no more.  I wished, at least, to find out the patron she had provided me, but, unfortunately, I did not know his name.  I ranged several times round the convent, endeavoring in vain to meet with him.  At length, other events banished the delightful remembrance of Madam Basile; and in a short time I so far forgot her, that I remained as simple, as much a novice as ever, nor did my penchant for pretty women even receive any sensible augmentation.

Her liberality had, however, increased my little wardrobe, though she had done this with precaution and prudence, regarding neatness more than decoration, and to make me comfortable rather than brilliant.  The coat I had brought from Geneva was yet wearable, she only added a hat and some linen.  I had no ruffles, nor would she give me any, not but I felt a great inclination for them.  She was satisfied with having put it in my power to keep myself clean, though a charge to do this was unnecessary while I was to appear before her.