He gave me a piece of money, but I hope you will not mind. I
don't know how much it is worth."

I guessed that it was the Florentine. The piece was of two ounces. I only
laughed, for not loving Margarita I was not jealous of her. I told her
she had done quite right to amuse him and to accept the piece, which was
worth forty-eight pauls.

She kissed me affectionately, and thanks to this incident I heard nothing
about my having come home so late.

I felt curious to learn more about this generous Tuscan, so I proceeded
to read Leonilda's letter.

His name, it appeared, was M----. He was a rich merchant established in
London, and had been commended to her husband by a Knight of Malta.

Leonilda said he was generous, good-hearted, and polished, and assured me
that I should like him.

After telling me the family news, Leonilda concluded by saying that she
was in a fair way to become a mother, and that she would be perfectly
happy if she gave birth to a son. She begged me to congratulate the
marquis.

Whether from a natural instinct or the effects of prejudice, this news
made me shudder. I answered her letter in a few days, enclosing it in a
letter to the marquis, in which I told him that the grace of God was
never too late, and that I had never been so much pleased by any news as
at hearing he was likely to have an heir.

In the following May Leonilda gave birth to a son, whom I saw at Prague,
on the occasion of the coronation of Leopold. He called himself Marquis
C----, like his father, or perhaps we had better say like his mother's
husband, who attained the age of eighty.

Though the young marquis did not know my name, I got introduced to him,
and had the pleasure of meeting him a second time at the theatre. He was
accompanied by a priest, who was called his governor, but such an office
was a superfluity for him, who was wiser at twenty than most men are at
sixty.

I was delighted to see that the young man was the living image of the old
marquis. I shed tears of joy as I thought how this likeness must have
pleased the old man and his wife, and I admired this chance which seemed
to have abetted nature in her deceit.

I wrote to my dear Leonilda, placing the letter in the hands of her son.
She did not get it till the Carnival of 1792, when the young marquis
returned to Naples; and a short time after I received an answer inviting
me to her son's marriage and begging me to spend the remainder of my days
with her.