named
Theresa le Vasseur, was of a good family; her father was an officer in
the mint of Orleans, and her mother a shopkeeper; they had many children.
The function of the mint of Orleans being suppressed, the father found
himself without employment; and the mother having suffered losses, was
reduced to narrow circumstances. She quitted her business and came to
Paris with her husband and daughter, who, by her industry, maintained all
the three.

The first time I saw this girl at table, I was struck with her modesty;
and still more so with her lively yet charming look, which, with respect
to the impression it made upon me, was never equalled. Beside M. de
Bonnefond, the company was composed of several Irish priests, Gascons and
others of much the same description. Our hostess herself had not made
the best possible use of her time, and I was the only person at the table
who spoke and behaved with decency. Allurements were thrown out to the
young girl. I took her part, and the joke was then turned against me.
Had I had no natural inclination to the poor girl, compassion and
contradiction would have produced it in me: I was always a great friend
to decency in manners and conversation, especially in the fair sex. I
openly declared myself her champion, and perceived she was not insensible
of my attention; her looks, animated by the gratitude she dared not
express by words, were for this reason still more penetrating.

She was very timid, and I was as much so as herself. The connection
which this disposition common to both seemed to remove to a distance, was
however rapidly formed. Our landlady perceiving its progress, became
furious, and her brutality forwarded my affair with the young girl, who,
having no person in the house except myself to give her the least
support, was sorry to see me go from home, and sighed for the return of
her protector. The affinity our hearts bore to each other, and the
similarity of our dispositions, had soon their ordinary effect. She
thought she saw in me an honest man, and in this she was not deceived.
I thought I perceived in her a woman of great sensibility, simple in her
manners, and devoid of all coquetry:--I was no more deceived in her than
she in me. I began by declaring to her that I would never either abandon
or marry her. Love, esteem, artless sincerity were the ministers of my
triumph, and it was because her heart was tender and virtuous, that I was
happy without being pr