No, my dear friend, I do not perceive the approach of winter with grief and terror; on the contrary, I thank Heaven, I shall not be obliged to catch cold in the road to Versailles, or in the streets of Paris. I shall not receive visitors, who are as tiresome as they are idle; nor shall I hear Gluck and Piccini, both of whom I admire so much, continually taken to pieces! Instead of these things, I now only go abroad for pleasure and for health. I wear only a neat and convenient dress, and only associate with people I love. If you were here, who should I wish for more, or what could be wanting to my happiness? I assure you, for these eight months, that I have left Paris, I never passed a day without congratulating myself on the resolution I have taken, and at the same time reflecting with pain, that the same duties which have brought me here, will oblige me in three years to return to Paris! I have a favour to ask of you, my dear friend, I think I told you Madame de Valmont has a sister, who is a nun. But before I tell you what I wish of you, I will relate to you the history of this unfortunate young Lady. Madame de Valmont acquainted me with it last night, and I am sure you will join with me in being deeply interested for her. Mons. d’ Aimeri had four children. Cecilia, who was the youngest, was only three years old when she lost her mother; she was educated in a convent at Province, and did not come out of it till she was thirteen, when she attended the nuptials of her eldest sister, Madame d’ Olcy, who, as soon as she was married, immediately set out for Paris. Cecilia remained in the country with her father and her second sister, who was three years older than herself, and who was soon after married to Mons. de Valmont, and at the end of two years went to settle in Languedoc; she was strongly attached to Cecilia, whose amiable qualities, both of person and mind, were equally interesting; and what made her still more so, was, that she had the misfortune not to be loved by her father.