Before we parted I agreed to call on Helen’s mother every day to ascertain the night I could spend with them before I left Geneva. We broke up our party at two o’clock in the morning.
Three or four days after, Helen told me briefly that Hedvig was to sleep with her that night, and that she would leave the door open at the same time as before.
“I will be there.”
“And I will be there to shut you up, but you cannot have a light as the servant might see it.”
I was exact to the time, and when ten o’clock struck they came to fetch me in high glee.
“I forgot to tell you,” said Helen, “that you would find a fowl there.”
I felt hungry, and made short work of it, and then we gave ourselves up to happiness.
I had to set out on my travels in two days. I had received a couple of letters from M. Raiberti. In the first he told me that he had followed my instructions as to the Corticelli, and in the second that she would probably he paid for dancing at the carnival as first ‘figurante’. I had nothing to keep me at Geneva, and Madame d’Urfe, according to our agreement, would be waiting for me at Lyons. I was therefore obliged to go there. Thus the night that I was to pass with my two charmers would be my last.
My lessons had taken effect, and I found they had become past mistresses in the art of pleasure. But now and again joy gave place to sadness.
“We shall be wretched, sweetheart,” said Hedvig, “and if you like we will come with you.”