ou will be good enough to take
my portrait in exchange; you shall have it to-morrow."

"I shall be delighted. It will be the most precious of all my jewels, but
I wonder how you can ask me to take it as a favour, whereas you are doing
me a favour I should never have dared to demand. How shall I make myself
worthy of giving you my portrait?"

"Ah, dearest! it would be a dear possession, but God preserve me from
having it at the convent!"

"I will get myself painted under the costume of St. Louis of Gonzaga, or
St. Anthony of Padua."

"I shall be damned eternally."

"We will say no more about it."

She had on a dimity corset, trimmed with red ribbon, and a cambric
chemise. I was surprised, but politeness did not allow me to ask where
they came from, so I contented myself with staring at them. She guessed
my thoughts, and said, smilingly, that it was a present from the
countrywoman.

"Seeing her fortune made, the worthy woman tries every possible way to
convince her benefactor that she is grateful to him. Look at the bed; she
was certainly thinking of you, and look at these fine materials. I
confess I enjoy their softness extremely. I shall sleep better to-night
if I am not plagued by those seductive dreams which tormented me last
night."

"Do you think that the bed and the fine linen will deliver you from the
dreams you fear?"

"No doubt they will have a contrary effect, for softness irritates the
passions. I shall leave everything with the good woman. I do not know
what they would say if I took them with me to the convent."

"You are not so comfortable there?"

"Oh, no! A straw bed, a couple of blankets, and sometimes, as a great
favour, a thin mattress and two coarse sheets. But you seem sad; you were
so happy yesterday."

"How can I be happy when I can no longer toy with you without making you
unhappy."

"You should have said without giving me the greatest delight."

"Then will you consent to receive pleasure in return for that which you
give me?"

"But yours is innocent and mine is not."

"What would you do, then, if mine and yours were the same?"

"You might have made me wretched yesterday, for I could not have refused
you anything."

"Why wretched? You would have had none of those dreams, but would have
enjoyed a quiet night. I am very sorry the peasant woman has given you
that corset, as otherwise I might at least have seen my little pets
without fear of bad dreams."

"But you must not be