rn as he pleased, telling me every day that it would be
the morrow, and when the morrow came there was always some impediment. At
last, at seven o'clock this morning, the woman told me that the count was
obliged to go into the country, that a hackney coach would bring me back
to his hotel, and that he would come and see me on his return. Then,
affecting an air of sadness, she told me that I must give her back the
watch because the count had forgotten to pay the watchmaker for it. I
handed it to her immediately without saying a word, and wrapping the
little I possessed in my handkerchief I came back here, where I arrived
half an hour since."

"Do you hope to see him on his return from the country?"

"To see him again! Oh, Lord! why have I ever seen him?"

She was crying bitterly, and I must confess that no young girl ever moved
me so deeply as she did by the expression of her grief. Pity replaced in
my heart the tenderness I had felt for her a week before. The infamous
proceedings of Narbonne disgusted me to that extent that, if I had known
where to find him alone, I would immediately have compelled him to give
me reparation. Of course, I took good care not to ask the poor girl to
give me a detailed account of her stay in the house of Narbonne's
respectable procurers; I could guess even more than I wanted to know, and
to insist upon that recital would have humiliated Mdlle. Vesian. I could
see all the infamy of the count in the taking back of the watch which
belonged to her as a gift, and which the unhappy girl had earned but too
well. I did all I could to dry her tears, and she begged me to be a
father to her, assuring me that she would never again do anything to
render her unworthy of my friendship, and that she would always be guided
by my advice.

"Well, my dear young friend, what you must do now is not only to forget
the unworthy count and his criminal conduct towards you, but also the
fault of which you have been guilty. What is done cannot be undone, and
the past is beyond remedy; but compose yourself, and recall the air of
cheerfulness which shone on your countenance a week ago. Then I could
read on your face honesty, candour, good faith, and the noble assurance
which arouses sentiment in those who can appreciate its charm. You must
let all those feelings shine again on your features; for they alone can
interest honest people, and you require the general sympathy more than
ever. My friendship is of little impo