daughter with boundless affection, always calling me "dear papa."

In less than three weeks I congratulated myself on having forgotten the
Charpillon, and on having replaced her by innocent amours, though one of
my daughter's schoolmates pleased me rather too much for my peace of
mind.

Such was my condition when one morning the favourite aunt of the
Charpillon paid me a call, and said that they were all mystified at not
having seen me since the supper I had given them, especially herself, as
her niece had given her to understand that I would furnish her with the
means of making the Balm of Life.

"Certainly; I would have given you the hundred guineas if your niece had
treated me as a friend, but she refused me favours a vestal might have
granted, and you must be aware that she is by no means a vestal."

"Don't mind my laughing. My niece is an innocent, giddy girl; she loves
you, but she is afraid you have only a passing whim for her. She is in
bed now with a bad cold, and if you will come and see her I am sure you
will be satisfied."

These artful remarks, which had no doubt been prepared in advance, ought
to have aroused all my scorn, but instead of that they awakened the most
violent desires. I laughed in chorus with the old woman, and asked what
would be the best time to call.

"Come now, and give one knock."

"Very good, then you may expect me shortly."