dour of her heart
confessed that they were imitation, and that I had lent them to her.

At this Madame de Chauvelin burst out laughing, and said,--

"M. de Seingalt has deceived you, my dear child. A gentleman of his caste
does not lend imitation jewellery to such a pretty girl as you are. Your
ear-rings are set with magnificent diamonds."

She blushed, for my silence confirmed the lady's assertion, and she felt
that the fact of my having lent her such stones was a palpable proof of
the great esteem in which I held her.

Madame de Chauvelin asked me to dance a minuet with Agatha, and my
partner executed the dance with wonderful grace. When it was over Madame
de Chauvelin thanked me, and told me that she should always remember our
dancing together at Soleure, and that she hoped I would dance again with
her at her own house. A profound bow shewed her how flattered I felt by
the compliment.

The ball did not come to an end till four o'clock in the morning, and I
did not leave it till I saw Agatha going away in the company with Madame
Dupre.

I was still in bed the next morning, when my man told me a pretty woman
wanted to speak to me. I had her in and was delighted to find it was
Agatha's mother. I made her sit down beside me, and gave her a cup of
chocolate. As soon as we were alone she drew my ear-rings from her
pocket, and said, with a smile, that she had just been shewing them to a
jeweller, who had offered her a thousand sequins for them.

"The man's mad," said I, "you ought to have let him have them; they are
not worth four sequins."

So saying, I drew her to my arms and gave her a kiss. Feeling that she
had shared in the kiss, and that she seemed to like it, I went farther,
and at last we spent a couple of hours in shewing what a high opinion we
had of each other.

Afterwards we both looked rather astonished, and it was the beautiful
mother who first broke the silence.

"Am I to tell my girl," said she, with a smile, "of the way in which you
proved to me that you love her?"

"I leave that to your discretion, my dear," said I. "I have certainly
proved that I love you, but it does not follow that I do not adore your
daughter. In fact, I burn for her; and yet, if we are not careful to
avoid being alone together, what has just happened between us will often
happen again."

"It is hard to resist you, and it is possible that I may have occasion to
speak to you again in private."

"You may be sure you will