ked, having full liberty to see her
at her mother's.

"When you leave Lausanne," said she, "I will rejoin you at Geneva, and
then we will travel together where you please and as long as our love
lasts."

In two days she started early in the morning, sure of my constancy, and
congratulating herself on her discretion. I was sad at her leaving me,
but my calls to take leave served to rouse me from my grief. I wished to
make M. Haller's acquaintance before I left Switzerland, and the mayor,
M. de Muralt, gave me a letter of introduction to him very handsomely
expressed. M. de Haller was the bailiff of Roche.

When I called to take leave of Madame de la Saone I found her in bed, and
I was obliged to remain by her bedside for a quarter of an hour. She
spoke of her disease, and gave the conversation such a turn that she was
able with perfect propriety to let me see that the ravages of the disease
had not impaired the beauty of her body. The sight convinced me that
Mignard had need of less courage than I thought, and I was within an inch
of doing her the same service. It was easy enough to look only at her
body, and it would have been difficult to behold anything more beautiful.

I know well that prudes and hypocrites, if they ever read these Memoirs,
will be scandalized at the poor lady, but in shewing her person so
readily she avenged herself on the malady which had disfigured her.
Perhaps, too, her goodness of heart and politeness told her what a trial
it was to look at her face, and she wished to indemnify the man who
disguised his feelings of repugnance by shewing him what gifts nature had
given her. I am sure, ladies, that the most prudish--nay, the most
virtuous, amongst you, if you were unfortunate enough to be so
monstrously deformed in the face, would introduce some fashion which
would conceal your ugliness, and display those beauties which custom
hides from view. And doubtless Madame de la Saone would have been more
chary of her person if she had been able to enchant with her face like
you.

The day I left I dined with M---- I----, and was severely taken to task by
pretty Sara for having sent her little wife away before me. The reader
will see how I met her again at London three years later. Le Duc was
still in the doctor's hands, and very weak; but I made him go with me, as
I had a good deal of property, and I could not trust it to anybody else.

I left Berne feeling naturally very sad. I had been happy there,