Another guest, a certain Baron de St. Heleine from Savoy, had a pretty but very insignificant wife.  The baron, a fat man, was a gamester, a gourmand, and a lover of wine; add that he was a past master in the art of getting into debt and lulling his creditors into a state of false security, and you have all his capacities, for in all other respects he was a fool in the fullest sense of the word.  An aide-decamp and the prince’s mistress also dined with us.  This mistress, who was pale, thin, and dreamy-looking, but also pretty, might be twenty years old.  She hardly ate anything, saying that she was ill and did not like anything on the table.  Discontent shewed itself on her every feature.  The prince endeavoured, but all in vain, to make her eat and drink, she refused everything disdainfully.  The prince laughed good-humouredly at her in such a manner as not to wound her feelings.

We spent two hours pleasantly enough at table, and after coffee had been served, the prince, who had business, shook me by the hand and left me with Campioni, telling me always to regard his table as my last resource.

This old friend and fellow-countryman took me to his house to introduce me to his wife and family.  I did not know that he had married a second time.  I found the so-called wife to be an Englishwoman, thin, but full of intelligence.  She had a daughter of eleven, who might easily have been taken for fifteen; she, too, was marvellously intelligent, and danced, sang, and played on the piano and gave such glances that shewed that nature had been swifter than her years.  She made a conquest of me, and her father congratulated me to my delight, but her mother offended her dreadfully by calling her baby.

I went for a walk with Campioni, who gave me a good deal of information, beginning with himself.

“I have lived for ten years,” he said, “with that woman.  Betty, whom you admired so much, is not my daughter, the others are my children by my Englishwoman.  I have left St. Petersburg for two years, and I live here well enough, and have pupils who do me credit.  I play with the prince, sometimes winning and sometimes losing, but I never win enough to enable me to satisfy a wretched creditor I left at St. Petersburg, who persecutes me on account of a bill of exchange.  He may put me in prison any day, and I am always expecting him to do so.”

“Is the bill for a large sum?”

“Five hundred roubles.”

“That is only two thousand francs.”

“Yes, but unfortunately I have not got it.”

“You ought to annul the debt by paying small sums on account.”

“The rascal won’t let me.”

“Then what do you propose doing?”

“Win a heavy sum, if I can, and escape into Poland.

“The Baron de St. Heleine will run away, too if he can, for he only lives on credit.  The prince is very useful to us, as we are able to play at his house; but if we get into difficulty he could not extricate us, as he is heavily in debt himself.  He always loses at play.  His mistress is expensive, and gives him a great deal of trouble by her ill-humour.”