ond place, I congratulated myself on the fact that Tiberge had not the vaguest suspicion of Manon's escape and of her being with me once more. I even noticed that he had avoided mentioning her to me, under the impression, evidently, that she had lost her former hold on my heart, as I displayed so little anxiety regarding her.
I resolved, if not to go home to my family, at least to follow Tiberge's advice so far as to write to my father, and intimate to him that I was anxious to return to the path of duty and of obedience to his wishes. My hope was that I might be able to induce him to send me some money, by pretending that I required it in order to complete my course of study at the Academy; for I knew that it would be useless for me to try to make him believe that I had any inclination to re-enter the Church. At bottom, moreover, I was by no means indisposed to keep the promise I intended making him. I was glad, on the contrary, to see any prospect of occupying myself in some honorable and rational manner, as far as I could do so without prejudice to my love.
The plan I had in contemplation was to live with my mistress and to pursue my studies at the same time; the two were perfectly compatible. I was so well satisfied with all these projects that I promised Tiberge that I would despatch a letter to my father that very day; and, in fact, I had no sooner left him than I went into a public writing-office[1] and composed such an affectionate and dutiful epistle that, on reading it over, I flattered myself that the paternal heart would be unable to resist my appeal.
Although, on leaving Tiberge, I could have well afforded to hire a coach, and pay for it, I took pleasure in walking proudly through the streets to M. de T———'s
- ↑ Bureau d'écriture.
