her fate if anything of the sort occurred. Yet he
must have been aware that he was placing me in a false and odious
position.

All Sacchi's troupe made it only too clear that they wished me to drop
her at once and for ever. Their innuendoes directed against myself, and
the continuous open gossip which went on, overcame my philosophy at
last, and I resolved to suspend my visits altogether without waiting for
Lent. Yet, before I exposed her unprotected to the hatred of her
comrades, I thought it best to take one final step, which proved, as
things turned out, a false one. I went to her sister Marianna, and told
her to warn Teodora that I meant at last to leave her. I could not play
the part of a fool and go-between. I was not jealous, and had never been
jealous of her other admirers; but a man in Gratarol's position,
notorious for libertinism, belonging to my own class, and with the eyes
of the world upon him, made my position as her friend and protector
odious beyond expression. She must choose between giving him up or
losing me for ever.

Marianna promised to discharge her mission, and spared no words of
reprobation for her sister's conduct. I ought, however, to have
reflected that a ballet-girl would be sure to misinterpret my real
delicacy, and to depict me as a jealous lover.

Two days later on, both sisters appeared at my house. Teodora began to
excuse herself. "My sister tells me that you are angry with me, and I am
come to ask the reason why." I replied that I was not angry, but that I
wanted to save her from certain ruin. If that was impossible, I meant to
provide for my own peace of mind and honour by doing what I had always
said I should. She begged me, with exaggerated demonstrations of
concern, to give her but one chance, averring that she had certain
things she wished to say to me in private. I weakly consented to pay her
a visit at her own house, and went there on the following day. There I
found her still in bed; and sitting down, I begged her to make a clean
breast of everything which concerned Signor Gratarol. She told me
frankly that she was not in love with him, and that she had only
received a couple of trifling presents at his hands--a little Neapolitan
watch-chain and an embroidered satin muff. Upon this, I advised her, if
things had not gone further, to write a polite letter to Gratarol,
begging him, as a gentleman, to discontinue his attentions. She might
return his two presents, as a mark of