h a denial. In a word, we parted; my heart full
of her idea, and leaving in hers (if I am not mistaken) a firm attachment
to me.

While pursuing the remainder of my journey, remembrance ran over
everything that had passed from the commencement of it, and I was well
satisfied at finding myself alone in a comfortable chaise, where I could
ruminate at ease on the pleasures I had enjoyed, and those which awaited
my return. I only thought of Saint-Andiol; of the life I was to lead
there; I saw nothing but Madam de Larnage, or what related to her; the
whole universe besides was nothing to me--even Madam de Warrens was
forgotten!--I set about combining all the details by which Madam de
Larnage had endeavored to give me in advance an idea of her house, of the
neighborhood, of her connections, and manner of life, finding everything
charming.

She had a daughter, whom she had often described in the warmest terms of
maternal affection: this daughter was fifteen lively, charming, and of an
amiable disposition. Madam de Larnage promised me her friendship; I had
not forgotten that promise, and was curious to know how Mademoiselle de
Larnage would treat her mother's 'bon ami'. These were the subjects of
my reveries from the bridge of St. Esprit to Remoulin: I had been advised
to visit the Pont-du-Gard; hitherto I had seen none of the remaining
monuments of Roman magnificence, and I expected to find this worthy the
hands by which it was constructed; for once, the reality surpassed my
expectation; this was the only time in my life it ever did so, and the
Romans alone could have produced that effect. The view of this noble and
sublime work, struck me the more forcibly, from being in the midst of a
desert, where silence and solitude render the majestic edifice more
striking, and admiration more lively, for though called a bridge it is
nothing more than an aqueduct. One cannot help exclaiming, what strength
could have transported these enormous stones so far from any quarry? And
what motive could have united the labors of so many millions of men, in a
place that no one inhabited? I remained here whole hours, in the most
ravishing contemplation, and returned pensive and thoughtful to my inn.
This reverie was by no means favorable to Madam de Larnage; she had taken
care to forewarn me against the girls of Montpelier, but not against the
Pont-du-Gard--it is impossible to provide for every contingency.

On my arrival at Nismes, I wen