uipped like a prince, and journeyed towards Turin, where I was to
meet the famous Gualdo, who was none other than Ascanio Pogomas, whom I
had summoned from Berne. I thought it would be easy to make the fellow
play the part I had destined for him, but I was cruelly deceived as the
reader will see.
I could not resist stopping at Chamberi to see my fair nun, whom I found
looking beautiful and contented. She was grieving, however, after the
young boarder, who had been taken from the convent and married.
I got to Turin at the beginning of December, and at Rivoli I found the
Corticelli, who had been warned by the Chevalier de Raiberti of my
arrival. She gave me a letter from this worthy gentleman, giving the
address of the house he had taken for me as I did not want to put up at
an inn. I immediately went to take possession of my new lodging.
CHAPTER XVII
My Old Friends--Pacienza--Agatha--Count Boryomeo--The Ball--Lord Percy
The Corticelli was as gentle as a lamb, and left me as we got into Turin.
I promised I would come and see her, and immediately went to the house
the Chevalier had taken, which I found convenient in every way.
The worthy Chevalier was not long in calling on me. He gave me an account
of the moneys he had spent on the Corticelli, and handed over the rest to
me.
"I am flush of money," I said, "and I intend to invite my friends to
supper frequently. Can you lay your hands on a good cook?"
"I know a pearl amongst cooks," said he, "and you can have him directly."
"You, chevalier, are the pearl of men. Get me this wonder, tell him I am
hard to please, and agree on the sum I am to pay him per month."
The cook, who was an excellent one, came the same evening.
"It would be a good idea," said Raiberti, "to call on the Count d'Aglie.
He knows that the Corticelli is your mistress, and he has given a formal
order to Madame Pacienza, the lady with whom she lives, that when you
come and see her you are not to be left alone together."
This order amused me, and as I did not care about the Corticelli it did
not trouble me in the least, though Raiberti, who thought I was in love
with her, seemed to pity me.
"Since she has been here," he said, "her conduct has been
irreproachable."
"I am glad to hear that."
"You might let her take some lessons from the dancing-master Dupre," said
he. "He will no doubt give her something to do at the carnival."
I promised to follow his advice, and I then
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