"And always happily, of course."

"Always unhappily. The first time, perhaps, because, being an
ecclesiastic, I durst not speak openly of my love. The second, because a
cruel, unexpected event compelled me to leave the woman I loved at the
very moment in which my happiness would have been complete. The third
time, because the feeling of pity, with which I inspired the beloved
object, induced her to cure me of my passion, instead of crowning my
felicity."

"But what specific remedies did she use to effect your cure?"

"She has ceased to be kind."

"I understand she has treated you cruelly, and you call that pity, do
you? You are mistaken."

"Certainly," said Madame F----, "a woman may pity the man she loves, but
she would not think of ill-treating him to cure him of his passion. That
woman has never felt any love for you."

"I cannot, I will not believe it, madam."

"But are you cured?"

"Oh! thoroughly; for when I happen to think of her, I feel nothing but
indifference and coldness. But my recovery was long."

"Your convalescence lasted, I suppose, until you fell in love with