delicacy. The actress sighed, and
said she supposed she must follow my advice. I took her at her word; and
added that, since I found her so well disposed to adopt the only right
course open to her, I was willing not to withdraw my protection.

I did not inquire whether she actually wrote the letter to Signor
Gratarol, but continued to treat her with politeness, trusting to her
word and honour. One evening, when she had no engagement at the theatre,
I proposed that we should go together to the opera at S. Samuele. She
accepted, but showed a singular curiosity to know the row and number of
the box. "I will send you the key," I said, "this morning, and you will
see where it is placed. If you like to go before me with your husband, I
will look in during the evening." I fancied there must be some intrigue
hidden under this anxiety about the number of the box; but I said
nothing, and did what I had promised.

When the evening came, I went to S. Samuele, and found Mme. Ricci with
her husband in the box. His duties at the other theatre obliged him to
retire, and I was left alone with Teodora. Scarcely had I taken my seat,
when I heard the door of the next box open, and some one entered, who
was greeted by the actress with charming airs of coquetry and winning
grace. I had my shoulders turned to the person, but I divined who it
was. The Ricci had informed Gratarol that she was going with me to S.
Samuele, and had given him the number of our box. Pretending to notice
him by accident, I turned my head round, bowed, and begged him to excuse
me for not having yet returned his visit. He overwhelmed me, as usual,
with a shower of those compliments which won for him the fame of
eloquence.

"This then," said I to myself, "is the woman's way of writing notes at
my advice!" However, I attended her back to her house without making any
comment on what had happened.

The last day of this most tedious Carnival at length arrived. It was the
custom for the leading members of Sacchi's troupe, together with a
numerous company of friends, to celebrate the evening with a supper at
some inn. I had always accompanied Teodora Ricci on these occasions; and
I now determined to put the final stroke to our friendship by acting as
usual. After a very festive supper, the whole party adjourned to the
opera at S. Samuele. The performance began at midnight, and several
boxes had been engaged beforehand. It chanced that I found myself alone
in one of them w