f you."

"What's that?"

"I have an aunt who enjoys a great reputation for her skill in the occult
sciences, especially in alchemy. She is a woman of wit, very, rich, and
sole mistress of her fortune; in short, knowing her will do you no harm.
She longs to see you, for she pretends to know you, and says that you are
not what you seem. She has entreated me to take you to dine with her, and
I hope you will accept the invitation. Her name is the Marchioness
d'Urfe."

I did not know this lady, but the name of d'Urfe caught my attention
directly, as I knew all about the famous Anne d'Urfe who flourished
towards the end of the seventeenth century. The lady was the widow of his
great-grandson, and on marrying into the family became a believer in the
mystical doctrines of a science in which I was much interested, though I
gave it little credit. I therefore replied that I should be glad to go,
but on the condition that the party should not exceed the count, his
aunt, and myself.

"She has twelve people every day to dinner, and you will find yourself in
the company of the best society in Paris."

"My dear fellow, that's exactly what I don't want; for I hate to be
thought a magician, which must have been the effect of the tales you have
told."

"Oh, no! not at all; your character is well known, and you will find
yourself in the society of people who have the greatest regard for you."

"Are you sure of that?"

"The Duchess de l'Oragnais told me, that, four or five years ago, you
were often to be seen at the Palais Royal, and that you used to spend
whole days with the Duchess d'Orleans; Madame de Bouffers, Madame de
Blots, and Madame de Melfort have also talked to me about you. You are
wrong not to keep up your old acquaintances. I know at least a hundred
people of the first rank who are suffering from the same malady as that
of which you cured me, and would give the half of their goods to be
cured."

De la Tour d'Auvergne had reason on his side, but as I knew his wonderful
cure had been due to a singular coincidence, I had no desire to expose
myself to public ridicule. I therefore told him that I did not wish to
become a public character, and that he must tell Madame d'Urfe that I
would have the honour of calling on her in strict privacy only, and that
she might tell me the day and hour on which I should kneel before her.

The same evening I had a letter from the count making an appointment at
the Tuileries for the mor