ere also.
However, my surprise must have passed unnoticed, for my housekeeper,
rising from her seat with a cry of joy, threw her arms about my neck, and
after having kissed me affectionately presented me to her worthy mother,
who welcomed me in the friendliest manner. I asked Lebel after the
ambassador, and how long he had been at Lausanne.

He replied, with a polite and respectful air, that his master was quite
well, and that he had come to Lausanne on business, and had only been
there a few hours; and that, wishing to pay his regards to Madame
Dubois's mother, he had been pleasantly surprised to see the daughter
there as well.

"You know," he added, "what my intentions are. I have to go back
to-morrow, and when you have made up your minds, write to me and I will
come and take her to Soleure, where I will marry her."

He could not have spoken more plainly or honourably. I said that I would
never oppose the will of my sweetheart, and my Dubois, interrupting me,
said in her turn that she would never leave me until I sent her away.

Lebel found these replies too vague, and told me with noble freedom that
we must give him a definite reply, since in such cases uncertainty spoils
all. At that moment I felt as if I could never agree to his wishes, and I
told him that in ten days I would let him know of our resolution,
whatever it was. At that he was satisfied, and left us.

After his departure my sweetheart's mother, whose good sense stood her
instead of wit, talked to us in a manner that answered our inclinations,
for, amorous as we were, we could not bear the idea of parting. I agreed
that my housekeeper should wait up for me till midnight, and that we
could talk over our reply with our heads on the pillow.

My Dubois had a separate room with a good bed and excellent furniture.
She gave me a very good supper, and we spent a delicious night. In the
morning we felt more in love than ever, and were not at all disposed to
comply with Lebel's wishes. Nevertheless, we had a serious conversation.

The reader will remember that my mistress had promised to pardon my
infidelities, provided that I confessed them. I had none to confess, but
in the course of conversation I told her about Raton.

"We ought to think ourselves very fortunate," said she, "for if it had
not been for chance, we should have been in a fine state now."

"Yes, and I should be in despair."

"I don't doubt it, and you would be all the more wretched as I s