hat the way I put up with his visits made him extremely
grateful to Providence, for his wife could not send him any money, and he
could not afford to pay for his dinner at the inn, so that if it were not
for my kindness he would often be obliged to go hungry to bed. He shewed
me his wife's letters; he had evidently a high opinion of her. "I hope,"
he would say, "that you will come and stay with us at Milan, and that she
will please you."

He had been in the service of Spain, and by what he said I judged his
wife to be a pleasing brunette of twenty-five or twenty-six. The count
had told her how I had lent him money several times, and of my goodness
to him, and she replied, begging him to express her gratitude to me, and
to make me promise to stay with them at Milan. She wrote wittily, and her
letters interested me to such an extent that I gave a formal promise to
journey to Milan, if it were only for the sake of seeing her.

I confess that in doing so I was overcome by my feelings of curiosity. I
knew they were poor, and I should not have given a promise which would
either bring them into difficulties or expose me to paying too dearly for
my lodging. However, by way of excuse, I can only say that curiosity is
near akin to love. I fancied the countess sensible like an Englishwoman,
passionate like a Spaniard, caressing like a Frenchwoman, and as I had a
good enough opinion of my own merit, I did not doubt for a moment that
she would respond to my affection. With these pleasant delusions in my
head, I counted on exciting the jealousy of all the ladies and gentlemen
of Milan. I had plenty of money, and I longed for an opportunity of
spending it.

Nevertheless, I went every day to rehearsal at Dupre's, and I soon got
madly in love with Agatha. Madame Dupre won over by several presents I
made her, received my confidences with kindness, and by asking Agatha and
her mother to dinner procured me the pleasure of a more private meeting
with my charmer. I profited by the opportunity to make known my feelings,
and I obtained some slight favours, but so slight were they that my flame
only grew the fiercer.

Agatha kept on telling me that everybody knew that the Corticelli was my
mistress, and that for all the gold in the world she would not have it
said that she was my last shift, as I could not see the Corticelli in
private. I swore to her that I did not love the Corticelli, and that I
only kept her to prevent M. Raiberti being c