ated that young girl, not only into
the mysteries of Sappho, but also in high metaphysics, and C---- C---- had
consequently become a Freethinker. She wrote to me that, objecting to
give an account of her affairs to her confessor, and yet not wishing to
tell him falsehoods, she had made up her mind to tell him nothing.

"He has remarked," she added, "that perhaps I do not confess anything to
him because I did not examine my conscience sufficiently, and I answered
him that I had nothing to say, but that if he liked I would commit a few
sins for the purpose of having something to tell him in confession."

I thought this reply worthy of a thorough sophist, and laughed heartily.

On the same day I received the following letter from my adorable nun "I
write to you from my bed, dearest browny, because I cannot remain
standing on my feet. I am almost dead. But I am not anxious about it; a
little rest will make me all right, for I eat well and sleep soundly. You
have made me very happy by writing to me that your bleeding has not had
any evil consequences, and I give you fair notice that I shall have the
proof of it on Twelfth Night, at least if you like; that is understood,
and you will let me know. In case you should feel disposed to grant me
that favour, my darling, I wish to go to the opera. At all events,
recollect that I positively forbid the whites of eggs for the future, for
I would rather have a little less enjoyment and more security respecting
your health. In future, when you go to the casino of Muran, please to
enquire whether there is anybody there, and if you receive an affirmative
answer, go away. My friend will do the same. In that manner you will not
run the risk of meeting one another, but you need not observe these
precautions for long, if you wish, for my friend is extremely fond of
you, and has a great desire to make your acquaintance. He has told me
that, if he had not seen it with his own eyes, he never would have
believed that a man could run the race that you ran so splendidly the
other night, but he says that, by making love in that manner, you bid
defiance to death, for he is certain that the blood you lost comes from
the brain. But what will he say when he hears that you only laugh at the
occurrence? I am going to make you very merry: he wants to eat the salad
of whites of eggs, and he wants me to ask you for some of your vinegar,
because there is none in Venice. He said that he spent a delightful
nig