our departure; but that gave us no concern, as we never thought of
depending on it entirely until our money should be expended. An
accident spared us that trouble, our fountain was broken near Bramant,
and in good time, for we both felt (though without daring to own it to
each other) that we began to be weary of it. This misfortune rendered
us gayer than ever; we laughed heartily at our giddiness in having
forgotten that our clothes and shoes would wear out, or trusting to
renew them by the play of our fountain. We continued our journey as
merrily as we had begun it, only drawing faster towards that termination
where our drained purses made it necessary for us to arrive.

At Chambery I became pensive; not for the folly I had committed, for
never did any one think less of the past, but on account of the reception
I should meet with from Madam de Warrens; for I looked on her house as my
paternal home. I had written her an account of my reception at the Count
de Gauvon's; she knew my expectancies, and, in congratulating me on my
good fortune, had added some wise lessons on the return I ought to make
for the kindness with which they treated me. She looked on my fortune as
already made, if not destroyed by my own negligence; what then would she
say on my arrival? for it never entered my mind that she might shut the
door against me, but I dreaded the uneasiness I might give her; I dreaded
her reproaches, to me more wounding than want; I resolved to bear all in
silence, and, if possible to appease her. I now saw nothing but Madam de
Warrens in the whole universe, and to live in disgrace with her was
impossible.

I was most concerned about my companion, whom I did not wish to offend,
and feared I should not easily get rid of. I prefaced this separation by
an affected coldness during the last day's journey. The drole understood
me perfectly; in fact, he was rather giddy than deficient in point of