"

He did not understand this. However, they were uncovered, but none of
their faces excited my desires.

As a rule, the Polish women are ugly; a beauty is a miracle, and a pretty
woman a rare exception. At the end of a week of feasting and weariness, I
returned to Warsaw.

In this manner I saw Podolia and Volkynia, which were rebaptized a few
years later by the names of Galicia and Lodomeria, for they are now part
of the Austrian Empire. It is said, however, that they are more
prosperous than they ever were before.

At Warsaw I found Madame Geoffrin the object of universal admiration; and
everybody was remarking with what simplicity she was dressed. As for
myself, I was received not coldly, but positively rudely. People said to
my face,--

"We did not expect to see you here again. Why did you come back?"

"To pay my debts."

This behaviour astonished and disgusted me. The prince-palatin even
seemed quite changed towards me. I was still invited to dinner, but no
one spoke to me. However, Prince Adam's sister asked me very kindly to
come and sup with her, and I accepted the invitation with delight. I
found myself seated opposite the king, who did not speak one word to me
the whole time. He had never behaved to me thus before.

The next day I dined with the Countess Oginski, and in the course of
dinner the countess asked where the king had supper the night before;
nobody seemed to know, and I did not answer. Just as we were rising,
General Roniker came in, and the question was repeated.

"At Princess Strasnikowa's," said the general, "and M. Casanova was
there."

"Then why did you not answer my question?" said the countess to me.

"Because I am very sorry to have been there. His majesty neither spoke to
me nor looked at me. I see I am in disgrace, but for the life of me I
know not why."

On leaving the house I went to call on Prince Augustus Sulkowski, who
welcomed me as of old, but told me that I had made a mistake in returning
to Warsaw as public opinion was against me.

"What have I done?"

"Nothing; but the Poles are always inconstant and changeable. 'Sarmatarum
virtus veluti extra ipsos'. This inconstancy will cost us dear sooner or
later. Your fortune was made, but you missed the turn of the tide, and I
advise you to go."

"I will certainly do so, but it seems to me rather hard."

When I got home my servant gave me a letter which some unknown person had
left at my door. I opened it and found it