and he might fall the
victim of his own error. I think that my friend Horace made a mistake
when he said to Florus:

'Nec metuam quid de me judicet heres, Quod non plura datis inveniet.'

The happiest man is the one who knows how to obtain the greatest sum of
happiness without ever failing in the discharge of his duties, and the
most unhappy is the man who has adopted a profession in which he finds
himself constantly under the sad necessity of foreseeing the future.

Perfectly certain that M---- M---- would keep her word, I went to the
convent at ten o'clock in the morning, and she joined me in the parlour
as soon as I was announced.

"Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "are you ill?"

"No, but I may well look so, for the expectation of happiness wears me
out. I have lost sleep and appetite, and if my felicity were to be
deferred my life would be the forfeit."

"There shall be no delay, dearest; but how impatient you are! Let us sit
down. Here is the key of my casino. You will find some persons in it,
because we must be served; but nobody will speak to you, and you need not
speak to anyone. You must be masked, and you must not go there till two
hours after sunset; mind, not before. Then go up the stairs opposite the
street-door, and at the top of those stairs you will see, by the light of
a lamp, a green door which you will open to enter the apartment which you
will find lighted. You will find me in the second room, and in case I
should not be there you will wait for me a few minutes; you may rely upon
my being punctual. You can take off your mask in that room, and make
yourself comfortable; you will find some books and a good fire."

The description could not be clearer; I kissed the hand which was giving
me the key of that mysterious temple, and I enquired from the charming
woman whether I should see her in her conventual garb.

"I always leave the convent with it," she said, "but I have at the casino
a complete wardrobe to transform myself into an elegant woman of the
world, and even to disguise myself."

"I hope you will do me the favour to remain in the dress of a nun."

"Why so, I beg?"

"I love to see you in that dress."

"Ah! ah! I understand. You fancy that my head is shaved, and you are
afraid. But comfort yourself, dear friend, my wig is so beautifully made
that it defies detection; it is nature itself."

"Oh, dear! what are you saying? The very name of wig is awful. But no,
you may be certain that