All the same I had the strength of mind to refrain from seeing her for two days, and on the third, which was the day appointed for the cursed supper, she and her aunt paid me a call at nine o’clock in the morning. “I have come to breakfast with you, and to discuss a certain question,” said she, in the most engaging manner. “Will you tell me your business now, or after breakfast?” “After breakfast; for we must be alone.” We had our breakfast, and then the aunt went into another room, and the Charpillon, after describing the monetary situation of the family, told me that it would be much relieved if her aunt could obtain a hundred guineas. “What would she do with the money?” “She would make the Balm of Life, of which she possesses the secret, and no doubt she would make her fortune, too.” She then began to dilate on the marvellous properties of the balm, on its probable success in a town like London, and on the benefits which would accrue to myself, for of course I should share in the profits. She added that her mother and aunt would give me a written promise to repay the money in the course of six years. “I will give you a decided answer after supper.” I then began to caress her, and to make assaults in the style of an amorous man, but it was all in vain, though I succeeded in stretching her on a large sofa. She made her escape, however, and ran to her aunt, while I followed her, feeling obliged to laugh as she did. She gave me her hand, and said,-- “Farewell, till this evening.” When they were gone, I reflected over what had passed and thought this first scene of no bad augury. I saw that I should get nothing out of her without spending a hundred guineas, and I determined not to attempt to bargain, but I would let her understand that she must make up her mind not to play prude. The game was in my hands, and all I had to do was to take care not to be duped. In the evening the company arrived, and the girl asked me to hold a bank till supper was ready; but I declined, with a burst of laughter that seemed to puzzle her. “At least, let us have a game of whist,” said she. “It seems to me,” I answered, “that you don’t feel very anxious to hear my reply.” “You have made up your mind, I suppose?” “I have, follow me.” She followed me into an adjoining room, and after she had seated herself on a sofa, I told her that the hundred guineas were at her disposal. “Then please to give the money to my aunt, otherwise these gentlemen might think I got it from you by some improper means.” “I will do so.” I tried to get possession of her, but in vain; and I ceased my endeavours when she said,-- “You will get nothing from me either by money or violence; but you can hope for all when I find you really nice and quiet.”