its aid to my own reflections, and I conceived for this world a deep and unspeakable contempt. Can you divine," he added, "what it is that still keeps me in it, and prevents my seeking a life of solitude? It is solely my warm attachment to you. I know your excellent qualities of heart and mind. There is no goodness of which you might not make yourself capable. The fatal fascinations of pleasure have led you astray. How grievous a loss to the cause of virtue! Your flight from Amiens distressed me so deeply that I have not since enjoyed a moment's
happiness. You may judge of this by the steps it led me to take."
He then told me how, on realizing that I had deceived him and fled with my mistress, he had set out on horseback in my pursuit; but, as I had the start of him by some four or five hours, it had been impossible for him to overtake me. He had reached St. Denis, however, only half an hour after I had left it. Being sure that I would remain in Paris, he had spent six weeks there in a vain endeavor to find me. He had gone to every place where he thought it likely that he might meet me, and, at last, had recognized my mistress one evening at the theatre, where the splendor of her toilet convinced him that she presented this
