raged, went in quest of his old governor, made him acquainted with his misfortune and asked his advice. The governor proposed that he should become a tutor, like himself.
"Alas!" said the marquis, "I know nothing; you have taught me nothing, and you are the first cause of my misfortunes." He sobbed when he spoke thus.
"Write romances," said a wit who was present; "it is an admirable resource at Paris."
The young man in greater despair than ever ran to his mother's confessor. This confessor was a Theatin of great reputation who directed the consciences only of women of the first rank. As soon as he saw Jeannot he ran up to him:
"My God, Mr. Marquis," said he, "where is your coach? How is the good lady your mother?"
The poor unfortunate young man gave him an account of what had befallen his family. In proportion as he explained himself the Theatin assumed an air more grave, more indifferent, and more defiant.
"My son," said he, "it is the will of God that you should be reduced to this condition; riches serve only to corrupt the heart. God, in his great mercy, has then reduced your mother to beggary?"
"Yes, sir," answered the marquis.
"So much the better," said the confessor, "her election is the more certain."
"But father," said the marquis, "is there in the meantime no hopes of some assistance in this world?"
