the house I found the young
Florentine already there.

It was at this dinner that I found out many of his good qualities, and I
saw that Donna Leonilda had not said too much in his favour.

Towards the end of the meal the marchioness asked why I had not stayed
till the end of the opera.

"Because the young ladies were getting tired."

"I have found out that they do not belong to the Venetian ambassador's
household.

"You are right, and I hope you will pardon my small fiction."

"It was an impromptu effort to avoid telling me who they are, but they
are known."

"Then I congratulate the curious."

"The one I addressed deserves to excite general curiosity; but if I were
in your place I should make her use a little powder."

"I have not the authority to do so, and if I had, I would not trouble her
for the world."

I was pleased with the Florentine, who listened to all this without
saying a word. I got him to talk of England and of his business. He told
me that he was going to Florence to take possession of his inheritance,
and to get a wife to take back with him to London. As I left, I told him
that I could not have the pleasure of calling on him till the day after
next, as I was prevented by important business. He told me I must come at
dinnertime, and I promised to do so.

Full of love and hope, I went for my two friends, who enjoyed the whole
play without any interruption.

When we alighted at the inn I told the coachman to call for me at two,
and we then went up to the third floor, where we sat before the fire
while the oysters were being opened. They did not interest us as they had
done before.

Emilie had an important air; she was about to make a good marriage.
Armelline was meek, smiling, and affectionate, and reminded me of the
promise I had given her. I replied by ardent kisses which reassured her,
while they warned her that I would fain increase the responsibility I had
already contracted towards her. However, she seemed resigned, and I sat
down to table in a happy frame of mind.

As Emilie was on the eve of her wedding, she no doubt put down my neglect
of her to my respect for the sacrament of matrimony.

When supper was over I got on the sofa with Armelline, and spent three
hours which might have been delicious if I had not obstinately
endeavoured to obtain the utmost favour. She would not give in; all my
supplications and entreaties could not move her; she was sweet, but firm.
She lay betwee