paid a visit to the
superintendent of police.

He received me well, complimented me on my return to Turin, and then
added with a smile:--

"I warn you that I have been informed that you keep a mistress, and that
I have given strict orders to the respectable woman with whom she lives
not to leave her alone with you."

"I am glad to hear it," I replied, "and the more as I fear her mother is
not a person of very rigid morals. I advised the Chevalier Raiberti of my
intentions with regard to her, and I am glad to see that he has carried
them out so well. I hope the girl will shew herself worthy of your
protection."

"Do you think of staying here throughout the carnival?"

"Yes, if your excellency approves."

"It depends entirely on your good conduct."

"A few peccadilloes excepted, my conduct is always above reproach."

"There are some peccadilloes we do not tolerate here. Have you seen the
Chevalier Osorio?"

"I think of calling on him to-day or to-morrow."

"I hope you will remember me to him."

He rang his bell, bowed, and the audience was over.

The Chevalier Osorio received me at his office, and gave me a most
gracious reception. After I had given him an account of my visit to the
superintendent, he asked me, with a smile, if I felt inclined to submit
with docility to not seeing my mistress in freedom.

"Certainly," said I, "for I am not in love with her."

Osorio looked at me slyly, and observed, "Somehow I don't think your
indifference will be very pleasing to the virtuous duenna."

I understood what he meant, but personally I was delighted not to be able
to see the Corticelli save in the presence of a female dragon. It would
make people talk, and I loved a little scandal, and felt curious to see
what would happen.

When I returned to my house I found the Genoese Passano, a bad poet and
worse painter, to whom I had intended to give the part of a Rosicrucian,
because there was something in his appearance which inspired, if not
respect, at least awe and a certain feeling of fear. In point of fact,
this was only a natural presentiment that the man must be either a clever
rogue or a morose and sullen scholar.

I made him sup with me and gave him a room on the third floor, telling
him not to leave it without my permission. At supper I found him insipid
in conversation, drunken, ignorant, and ill disposed, and I already
repented of having taken him under my protection; but the thing was done.

The nex