The family of Madam de Larnage might not be pleased with me, and would, perhaps, treat me unpolitely; her daughter too made me uneasy, for, spite of myself, I thought more of her than was necessary.

I trembled lest I should fall in love with this girl, and that very fear had already half done the business.

Was I going, in return for the mother's kindness, to seek the ruin of the daughter?
To sow dissension, dishonor, scandal, and hell itself, in her family?
The very idea struck me with horror, and I took the firmest resolution to combat and vanquish this unhappy attachment, should I be so unfortunate as to experience it.

But why expose myself to this danger?
How miserable must the situation be to live with the mother, whom I should be weary of, and sigh for the daughter, without daring to make known my affection! What necessity was there to seek this situation, and expose myself to misfortunes, affronts and remorse, for the sake of pleasures whose greatest charm was already exhausted?
For I was sensible this attachment had lost its first vivacity.

With these thoughts were mingled reflections relative to my situation and duty to that good and generous friend, who already loaded with debts, would become more so from the foolish expenses I was running into, and whom I was deceiving so unworthily.