ight be assured, that if
my conduct and sentiments were found above that station, I should not
long remain in it. The end of this discourse cruelly disappointed the
brilliant hopes the beginning had inspired. "What! forever a footman?"
said I to myself, with a bitterness which confidence presently effaced,
for I felt myself too superior to that situation to fear long remaining
there.

He took me to the Count de Gauvon, Master of the Horse to the Queen, and
Chief of the illustrious House of Solar. The air of dignity conspicuous
in this respectable old man, rendered the affability with which he
received me yet more interesting. He questioned me with evident
interest, and I replied with sincerity. He then told the Count de la
Roque, that my features were agreeable, and promised intellect, which he
believed I was not deficient in; but that was not enough, and time must
show the rest; after which, turning to me, he said, "Child, almost all
situations are attended with difficulties in the beginning; yours,
however, shall not have too great a portion of them; be prudent, and
endeavor to please everyone, that will be almost your only employment;
for the rest fear nothing, you shall be taken care of." Immediately
after he went to the Marchioness de Breil, his daughter-in-law, to whom
he presented me, and then to the Abbe de Gauvon, his son. I was elated
with this beginning, as I knew enough of the world already to conclude,
that so much ceremony is not generally used at the reception of a
footman. In fact, I was not treated like one. I dined at the steward's
table; did not wear a livery; and the Count de Favria (a giddy youth)
having commanded me to get behind his coach, his grandfather ordered that
I should get behind no coach, nor follow any one out of the house.
Meantime, I waited at table, and did, within doors, the business of a
footman; but I did it, as it were, of my own free will, without being
appointed to any particular service; and except writing some letters,
which were dictated to me, and cutting out some ornaments for the Count
de Favria, I was almost the absolute master of my time. This trial of my
discretion, which I did not then perceive, was certainly very dangerous,
and not very humane; for in this state of idleness I might have
contracted vices which I should not otherwise have given into.
Fortunately, it did not produce that effect; my memory retained the
lessons of M. Gaime, they had made an impre