There is one sweet lenitive at least for evils, which Nature holds
out to us: so I took it kindly at her hands, and fell asleep; and
the first word which roused me was Amiens.

- Bless me! said I, rubbing my eyes,--this is the very town where
my poor lady is to come.


AMIENS.


The words were scarce out of my mouth when the Count de L-'s post-
chaise, with his sister in it, drove hastily by: she had just time
to make me a bow of recognition,--and of that particular kind of
it, which told me she had not yet done with me. She was as good as
her look; for, before I had quite finished my supper, her brother's
servant came into the room with a billet, in which she said she had
taken the liberty to charge me with a letter, which I was to
present myself to Madame R- the first morning I had nothing to do
at Paris. There was only added, she was sorry, but from what
penchant she had not considered, that she had been prevented
telling me her story,--that she still owed it to me; and if my
route should ever lay through Brussels, and I had not by then
forgot the name of Madame de L-,--that Madame de L- would be glad
to discharge her obligation.

Then I will meet thee, said I, fair spirit! at Brussels;--'tis only
returning from Italy through Germany to Holland, by the route of
Flanders, home;--'twill scarce be ten posts out of my way; but,