een such cases, and I know by experience that the effusion of
blood or its absence proves nothing. As a general rule a girl cannot be
convicted of having had a lover unless she be with child.

I spent two hours of delight with this pretty baby, for she was so small,
so delicate, and so daintily shaped all over, that I can find no better
name for her. Her docility did not detract from the piquancy of the
pleasure, for she was voluptuously inclined.

When I rose in the morning she came to my room with Veronique, and I was
glad to see that while the younger sister was radiant with happiness the
elder looked pleasant and as if she desired to make herself agreeable. I
asked her how she was, and she told me that diet and sleep had completely
cured her. "I have always found them the best remedy for a headache."
Annette had also cured me of the curiosity I had felt about her. I
congratulated myself on my achievement.

I was in such high spirits at supper that M. de Grimaldi thought I had
won everything from Veronique, and I let him think so. I promised to dine
with him the next day, and I kept my word. After dinner I gave him a long
letter for Rosalie, whom I did not expect to see again except as Madame
Petri, though I took care not to let the marquis know what I thought.

In the evening I supped with the two sisters, and I made myself equally
agreeable to both of them. When Veronique was alone with me, putting my
hair into curl-papers, she said that she loved me much more now that I
behaved discreetly.

"My discretion," I replied, "only means that I have given up the hope of
winning you. I know how to take my part."

"Your love was not very great, then?"

"It sprang up quickly, and you, Veronique, could have made it increase to
a gigantic size."

She said nothing, but bit her lip, wished me good night and left the
room. I went to bed expecting a visit from Annette, but I waited in vain.
When I rang the next morning the dear girl appeared looking rather sad. I
asked her the reason.

"Because my sister is ill, and spent the whole night in writing," said
she.

Thus I learnt the reason of her not having paid me a visit.

"Do you know what she was writing about?"

"Oh, no! She does not tell me that kind of thing, but here is a letter
for you."

I read through the long and well-composed letter, but as it bore marks of
craft and dissimulation it made me laugh. After several remarks of no
consequence she said that she