To my great grief the clock warned me that it was time for me to be gone. I covered her with the tenderest kisses, and returning to my room, in the greatest gladness, I resigned myself to sleep.
I was roused at nine o’clock by M.——, who seemed in a happy frame of mind, and shewed me a letter he had just received, in which his relative thanked me for restoring him to his regiment. In this letter, which was dictated by gratitude, he spoke of me as if I had been a divinity.
“I am delighted,” I said, “to have been of service to you.”
“And I,” said he, “am equally pleased to assure you of my gratitude. Come and breakfast with us, my wife is still at her toilette. Come along.”
I rose hastily, and just as I was leaving the room I saw the dreadful widow, who seemed full of glee, and said,—
“I thank you, sir; I thank you with all my heart. I beg to leave you at liberty again; I am going back to Soleure.”
“Wait for a quarter of an hour, we are going to breakfast with Madame.”
“I can’t stop a moment, I have just wished her good day, and now I must be gone. Farewell, and remember me.”
“Farewell, madam.”
She had hardly gone before M.—— asked me if the woman was beside herself.