morals. Every day attending mass, often present at the preaching
and at the other services, never shewing myself at the casino,
frequenting only a certain cafe which was the place of meeting for all
men of acknowledged piety and reserve, and always studying when I was not
in their company. When they compared my actual mode of living with the
former one, they marvelled, and they could not sufficiently thank the
eternal providence of God whose inconceivable ways they admired. They
blessed the criminal actions which had compelled me to remain one year
away from my native place. I crowned their delight by paying all my debts
without asking any money from M. de Bragadin, who, not having given me
anything for one year, had religiously put together every month the sum
he had allowed me. I need not say how pleased the worthy friends were,
when they saw that I had entirely given up gambling.

I had a letter from De la Haye in the beginning of May. He announced that
he was on the eve of starting with the son so dear to his heart, and that
he would soon place himself at the disposition of the respectable men to
whom I had announced him.

Knowing the hour at which the barge arrived from Modena, we all went to
meet them, except M. de Bragadin, who was engaged at the senate. We
returned to the palace before him, and when he came back, finding us all
together, he gave his new guests the most friendly welcome. De la Haye
spoke to me of a hundred things, but I scarcely heard what he said, so
much was my attention taken up by Bavois. He was so different to what I
had fancied him to be from the impression I had received from De la Haye,
that my ideas were altogether upset. I had to study him; for three days
before I could make up my mind to like him. I must give his portrait to
my readers.

Baron Bavois was a young man of about twenty-five, of middle size,
handsome in features, well made, fair, of an equable temper, speaking
well and with intelligence, and uttering his words with a tone of modesty
which suited him exactly. His features were regular and pleasing, his
teeth were beautiful, his hair was long and fine, always well taken care
of, and exhaling the perfume of the pomatum with which it was dressed.
That individual, who was the exact opposite of the man that De la Haye
had led me to imagine, surprised my friends greatly, but their welcome
did not in any way betray their astonishment, for their pure and candid
minds would not adm