was one of the chief reasons which made your daughter resolve to leave
her home, for she hated him even more than she hated the
fermier-general."

"She has behaved very badly, but I promise not to say anything more about
marrying her. But I am sure you know all about it, as you gave her fifty
louis, without which she could not have done anything."

"Nay, not so."

"Do not deny it, sir; here is the evidence--a small piece of your letter
to her."

She gave me a scrap of the letter I had sent the daughter, with the fifty
louis for her brother. It contained the following lines,

"I hope that these wretched louis will convince you that I am ready to
sacrifice everything, my life if need be, to assure you of my affection."

"I am far from disavowing this evidence of my esteem for your daughter,
but to justify myself I am obliged to tell you a fact which I should have
otherwise kept secret--namely, that I furnished your daughter with this
sum to enable her to pay your son's debts, for which he thanked me in a
letter which I can shew you."

"My son?"

"Your son, madam."

"I will make you an ample atonement for my suspicions."

Before I had time to make any objection, she ran down to fetch Farsetti,
who was waiting in the courtyard, and made him come up and hear what I
had just told her.

"That's not a likely tale," said the insolent fellow.

I looked at him contemptuously, and told him he was not worth convincing,
but that I would beg the lady to ask her son and see whether I told the
truth.

"I assure you," I added, "that I always urged your daughter to marry M.
de la Popeliniere."

"How can you have the face to say that," said Farsetti, "when you talk in
the letter of your affection?"

"I do not deny it," said I. "I loved her, and I was proud of my affection
for her. This affection, of whatever sort it may have been (and that is
not this gentleman's business), was the ordinary topic of conversation
between us. If she had told me that she was going to leave her home, I
should either have dissuaded her or gone with her, for I loved her as I
do at this moment; but I would never have given her money to go alone."

"My dear Casanova," said the mother, "if you will help me to find her I
shall believe in your innocence."

"I shall be delighted to aid you, and I promise to commence the quest
to-day."

"As soon as you have any news, come and tell me."

"You may trust me to do so," said I, and we parted.

I