bed, and at such
an hour! How had my ancient security vanished! That dwelling, which had
hitherto been an inviolate asylum, was now beset with danger to my
life. That solitude, formerly so dear to me, could no longer be endured.
Pleyel, who had consented to reside with us during the months of spring,
lodged in the vacant chamber, in order to quiet my alarms. He treated
my fears with ridicule, and in a short time very slight traces of them
remained: but as it was wholly indifferent to him whether his nights
were passed at my house or at my brother's, this arrangement gave
general satisfaction.

Chapter VII

I will not enumerate the various inquiries and conjectures which these
incidents occasioned. After all our efforts, we came no nearer to
dispelling the mist in which they were involved; and time, instead of
facilitating a solution, only accumulated our doubts. In the midst of
thoughts excited by these events, I was not unmindful of my interview
with the stranger. I related the particulars, and shewed the portrait to
my friends. Pleyel recollected to have met with a figure resembling
my description in the city; but neither his face or garb made the same
impression upon him that it made upon me. It was a hint to rally me upon
my prepossessions, and to amuse us with a thousand ludicrous anecdotes
which he had collected in his travels. He made no scruple to charge me
with being in love; and threatened to inform the swain, when he met him,
of his good fortune.

Pleyel's temper made him susceptible of no durable impressions. His
conversation was occasionally visited by gleams of his ancient vivacity;
but, though his impetuosity was sometimes inconvenient, there was
nothing to dread from his malice. I had no fear that my character or
dignity would suffer in his hands, and was not heartily displeased when
he declared his intention of profiting by his first meeting with the
stranger to introduce him to our acquaintance.

Some weeks after this I had spent a toilsome day, and, as the sun
declined, found myself disposed to seek relief in a walk. The river
bank is, at this part of it, and for some considerable space upward,
so rugged and steep as not to be easily descended. In a recess of this
declivity, near the southern verge of my little demesne, was placed a
slight building, with seats and lattices. From a crevice of the rock,
to which this edifice was attached, there burst forth a stream of the
purest water, which