maid. By way of
further accustoming myself to the retreat from the world which I now
began to meditate, I declined all invitations to parties under the
pretext of indisposition. But the nearer the Easter time approached at
which I had settled in my own mind definitely to turn my back on worldly
temptations and pleasures, the more violent became my internal struggles
with myself. My health suffered under them to such an extent that I
was troubled with perpetual attacks of retching and sickness, which,
however, did not prevent me from writing my general confession,
addressed to the vicar of Saint Sulpice, the parish in which I lived.

Just Heaven! what did I not suffer some days afterwards, when I united
around me at dinner, for the last time, all the friends who had been
dearest to me in the days of my worldly life! What words can describe
the tumult of my heart when one of my guests said to me, "You are giving
us too good a dinner for a Wednesday in Passion Week;" and when another
answered, jestingly, "You forget that this is her farewell dinner to her
friends!" I felt ready to faint while they were talking, and rose
from table pretexting as an excuse, that I had a payment to make that
evening, which I could not in honour defer any longer. The company rose
with me, and saw me to the door. I got into my carriage, and the company
returned to table. My nerves were in such a state that I shrieked at the
first crack of the coachman's whip; and the company came running down
again to know what was the matter. One of my servants cleverly stopped
them from all hurrying out to the carriage together, by declaring that
the scream proceeded from my adopted orphan. Upon this they returned
quietly enough to their wine, and I drove off with my general confession
to the vicar of Saint Sulpice.

My interview with the vicar lasted three hours. His joy at discovering
that I was in a state of grace was extreme. My own emotions were quite
indescribable. Late at night I returned to my own house, and found my
guests all gone. I employed myself in writing farewell letters to
the manager and company of the theatre, and in making the necessary
arrangements for sending back my adopted orphan to his friends, with
twenty pistoles. Finally, I directed the servants to say, if anybody
enquired after me the next day, that I had gone out of town for some
time; and after that, at five o'clock in the morning, I left my home in
Paris never to return to it