state and signing the marriage contract. She would accept neither of
these alternatives, and had decided on escaping from her home, and asked
me to help her in doing so.

I had determined to help her, but I desired to save my reputation, for it
might have been troublesome if it had been absolutely known that I had
carried her off or furnished her with the means to escape. And as for any
other alternative, neither of us had any idea of matrimony.

I left her and went to the Tuileries, where a sacred concert was being
given. The piece was a motet composed by Moudonville, the words by the
Abbe de Voisenon, whom I had furnished with the idea, "The Israelites on
Mount Horeb."

As I was getting out of my carriage, I saw Madame du Remain descending
alone from hers. I ran up to her, and received a hearty welcome. "I am
delighted," said she, "to find you here, it is quite a piece of luck. I
am going to hear this novel composition, and have two reserved seats.
Will you do me the honour of accepting one?"

Although I had my ticket in my pocket I could not refuse so honourable an
offer, so, giving her my arm, we walked up to two of the best places in
the house.

At Paris no talking is allowed during the performance of sacred music,
especially when the piece is heard for the first time; so Madame du
Remain could draw no conclusions from my silence throughout the
performance, but she guessed that something was the matter from the
troubled and absent expression of my face, which was by no means natural
to me.