with me, and saw me to the door. I got into my carriage, and the
company returned to table. My nerves were in such a state that I
shrieked at the first crack of the coachman's whip; and the company came
running down again to know what was the matter. One of my servants
cleverly stopped them from all hurrying out to the carriage together, by
declaring that the scream proceeded from my adopted orphan. Upon this
they returned quietly enough to their wine, and I drove off with my
general confession to the vicar of Saint Sulpice.

My interview with the vicar lasted three hours. His joy at discovering
that I was in a state of grace was extreme. My own emotions were quite
indescribable. Late at night I returned to my own house, and found my
guests all gone. I employed myself in writing farewell letters to the
manager and company of the theatre, and in making the necessary
arrangements for sending back my adopted orphan to his friends, with
twenty pistoles. Finally, I directed the servants to say, if anybody
enquired after me the next day, that I had gone out of town for some
time; and after that, at five o'clock in the morning, I left my home in
Paris never to return to it again.

By this time I had thoroughly recovered my tranquillity. I was as easy
in my mind at leaving my house as I am now when I quit my cell to sing
in the choir. Such already was the happy result of my perpetual masses,
my general confession, and my three hours' interview with the vicar of
Saint Sulpice.

Before taking leave of the world, I went to Versailles to say good-bye
to my worthy patrons, Cardinal Fleury and the Duke de Gesvres. From
them, I went to mass in the King's Chapel; and after that, I called on a
lady of Versailles whom I had mortally offended, for the purpose of