in arranging her dress,--a simple but decent outfit, on which she had
spent all her little savings. The transformation would have destroyed
the illusions of a mere dangler; but Andrea's caprice had become a
passion. Marianna, diverted of her picturesque poverty, and looking like
any ordinary woman of modest rank, inspired dreams of wedded life.

He handed her into a hackney coach, and told her of the plans he had in
his head; and she approved of everything, happy in finding her admirer
more lofty, more generous, more disinterested than she had dared to
hope. He took her to a little apartment, where he had allowed himself to
remind her of his good offices by some of the elegant trifles which have
a charm for the most virtuous women.

"I will never speak to you of love till you give up all hope of your
Paolo," said the Count to Marianna, as he bid her good-bye at the Rue
Froid-Manteau. "You will be witness to the sincerity of my attempts.
If they succeed. I may find myself unequal to keeping up my part as a
friend; but in that case I shall go far away, Marianna. Though I have
firmness enough to work for your happiness, I shall not have so much as
will enable me to look on at it."

"Do not say such things. Generosity, too, has its dangers," said she,
swallowing down her tears. "But are you going now?"

"Yes," said Andrea; "be happy, without any drawbacks."

If Giardini might be believed, the new treatment was beneficial to both
husband and wife. Every evening after his wine, Gambara seemed less
self-centered, talked more, and with great lucidity; he even spoke
at last of reading the papers. Andrea could not help quaking at his
unexpectedly rapid success; but though his distress made him aware of
the strength of his passion, it did not make him waver in his virtuous
resolve.

One day he called to note the progress of this singular cure. Though the
state of the patient at first gave him satisfaction, his joy was dashed
by Marianna's beauty, for an easy life had restored its brilliancy.
He called now every evening to enjoy calm and serious conversation, to
which he contributed lucid and well considered arguments controverting
Gambara's singular theories. He took advantage of the remarkable acumen
of the composer's mind as to every point not too directly bearing on his
manias, to obtain his assent to principles in various branches of
art, and apply them subsequently to music. All was well so long as the
patient's b