f innuendoes and equivocal allusions, upon
which my presence barely imposed a check. Some of the actresses went so
far as to ask me in private whether I was not at last convinced of what
they had always told me about that woman's character. I fenced with them
as well as I could, sometimes pretending not to understand, sometimes
rebuking their evil gossip, and sometimes turning my back with affected
indignation. And so I rubbed on, always sighing for the arrival of
Lent.

One evening, her sister Marianna met me in a little room behind the
theatre. "What do you think, Sir Count," she said, "of this
extraordinary turn of affairs?" "What are you talking about?" I replied.
"About my madcap sister, of course," she added: "Teodora was always a
hair-brained, giddy, imprudent creature of caprice. But who would have
thought that, after five years of countenance and real friendship
extended to her by you, she would have given herself so openly and
formally to a man like Gratarol?" While I was revolving some answer,
which should signify nothing, a knot of actors entered, and relieved me
of my embarrassment.

I had always invited some of the comedians to a dinner at my house
before the end of the Carnival; and this year, not choosing to deviate
from old custom, I fixed it for a Thursday. Among the guests were Ricci
and her husband, Fiorelli and Zannoni, with other actresses and actors.
The conversation was as brilliant as usual; but I noticed, to my deep
regret, that Fiorelli's witticisms returned again and again to certain
new ornaments worn by Mme. Ricci. His allusions seemed to cut her to the
quick. She blushed, and shifted on her chair without replying. The
others laughed, and I vainly strove to introduce fresh topics. From this
day forward, rumour dealt loudly and cruelly with her reputation. Folk
went so far as to assert that every evening she retired from the theatre
with Signor Gratarol to his casino, and spent the whole night there.
How far these reports were true, I do not pretend to judge. It is
certain, however, that her imprudent connection with a notorious
voluptuary was nothing short of disastrous to a woman in her profession.
How Signor Gratarol justified his behaviour in causing this open scandal
to a person still ostensibly beneath my protection, can only be
conjectured. It is possible that Mme. Ricci concealed from him the
obligations she was under to me, and my repeated declarations that I
should abandon her to