ter an exchange
of salutes, but in which no names were mentioned on either side, they
invited us to accompany them to their party, who were refreshing
themselves in an adjoining dell. "We have had a party at archery," said
one of them, "and Madame St. Amande has won the silver bugle and bow.
The party is now at supper, after which we go to the chateau to dance.
Perhaps you will not suffer us to repent having met you by refusing to
accompany us." Mademoiselle Sillery was very eager to accept this
invitation, and looked rather blank when Mrs. Younge declined it, as she
wished to proceed on her road as quickly as possible. "You will at least
accompany us, merely to see the party."--"By all means," said
Mademoiselle Sillery. "I must really regret that I cannot," said Mrs.
Younge. "If it must be so," resumed the lady who was inviting us, "let
us exchange tokens, and we may meet again." This proposal, so perfectly
new to me, was accepted: the fair archers gave our ladies their pearl
crescents, which had the appearance of being of considerable value.
Madame Younge returned something which I did not see: Mademoiselle
Sillery gave a silver Cupid, which had served her for an essence-bottle.
The gentleman then shaking hands with us, and the ladies embracing each
other, we parted mutually satisfied. "Who are these ladies?" demanded I.
"You know them as well as we do," replied Mademoiselle Sillery. "And is
it thus," said I, "that you receive all strangers
indiscriminately?"--"Yes," replied she; "all strangers of a certain
condition. Where they are evidently of our own rank, we know of no
reserve. Indeed, why should we? It is to general advantage to be
pleased, and to please each other."--"But you embraced them, as if you
really felt an affection for them."--"And I did feel that affection for
them," said she, "as long as I was with them. I would have done them
every service in my power, and would even have made sacrifices to serve
them."--"And yet if you were to see them again, you would perhaps not
know them."--"Very possibly," replied she. "But I can see no reason why
every affection should be necessarily permanent. We never pretend to
permanence. We are certainly transient, but not insincere."

In this conversation we reached Ancennis, a village on a green,
surrounded by forests. Some of the cottages, as we saw them by
moon-light, seemed most delightfully situated, and the village had
altogether that air of quietness and of rural