taken compassion on then; however, just as I was sitting down to
supper they appeared before me like four Magdalens. The eldest, who was
the orator of the company, told me that their mother was in prison, and
that they would have to pass the night in the street if I did not take
pity on them.

"You shall have rooms, beds, and good fires," said I, "but first let me
see you eat."

Delight appeared on every countenance, and I had numerous dishes brought
for them. They ate eagerly but sadly, and only drank water.

"Your melancholy and your abstinence displeases me," said I, to the
eldest girl; "go upstairs and you will find everything necessary for your
comfort, but take care to be gone at seven in the morning and not to let
me see your faces again."

They went up to the second floor without a word.

An hour afterwards, just as I was going to bed, the eldest girl came into
my room and said she wished to have a private interview with me. I told
my negro to withdraw, and asked her to explain herself.

"What will you do for us," said she, "if I consent to share your couch?"

"I will give you twenty guineas, and I will lodge and board you as long
as you give me satisfaction."

Without saying a word she began to undress, and got into bed. She was
submissive and nothing more, and did not give me so much as a kiss. At
the end of a quarter of an hour I was disgusted with her and got up, and
giving her a bank note for twenty guineas I told her to put on her
clothes and go back to her room.

"You must all leave my house to-morrow," I said, "for I am ill pleased
with you. Instead of giving yourself up for love you have prostituted
yourself. I blush for you."

She obeyed mutely, and I went to sleep in an ill humour.

At about seven o'clock in the morning I was awakened by a hand shaking me
gently. I opened my eyes, and I was surprised to see the second daughter.

"What do you want?" I said, coldly.

"I want you to take pity on us, and shelter us in your house for a few
days longer. I will be very grateful. My sister has told me all, you are
displeased with her, but you must forgive her, for her heart is not her
own. She is in love with an Italian who is in prison for debt."

"And I suppose you are in love with someone else?"

"No, I am not."

"Could you love me?"

She lowered her eyes, and pressed my hand gently. I drew her towards me,
and embraced her, and as I felt her kisses answer mine, I said,--

"You have co