only chance, and candidly
related the whole affair, and I ended by saying that I should not survive
my disgrace. He consoled me by promising that my debt would be cancelled
in the course of the day, if I would swear never to play again upon
trust. I took an oath to that effect, and kissing his hand, I went out
for a walk, relieved from a great load. I had no doubt that my excellent
father would give me five hundred sequins during the day, and I enjoyed
my anticipation the honour I would derive, in the opinion of the lovely
countess, by my exactitude and prompt discharge of my debt. I felt that
it gave new strength to my hopes, and that feeling prevented me from
regretting my heavy loss, but grateful for the great generosity of my
benefactor I was fully determined on keeping my promise.

I dined with the three friends, and the matter was not even alluded to;
but, as we were rising from the table, a servant brought M. de Bragadin a
letter and a parcel.

He read the letter, asked me to follow him into his study, and the moment
we were alone, he said;

"Here is a parcel for you."

I opened it, and found some forty sequins. Seeing my surprise, M. de
Bragadin laughed merrily and handed me the letter, the contents of which
ran thus:

"M. de Casanova may be sure that our playing last night was only a joke:
he owes me nothing. My wife begs to send him half of the gold which he
has lost in cash.
"COUNT RINALDI."

I looked at M. de Bragadin, perfectly amazed, and he burst out laughing.
I guessed the truth, thanked him, and embracing him tenderly I promised
to be wiser for the future. The mist I had before my eyes was dispelled,
I felt that my love was defunct, and I remained rather ashamed, when I
realized that I had been the dupe of the wife as well as of the husband.

"This evening," said my clever physician, "you can have a gay supper with
the charming countess."

"This evening, my dear, respected benefactor, I will have supper with
you. You have given me a masterly lesson."

"The next time you lose money upon trust, you had better not pay it."

"But I should be dishonoured."

"Never mind. The sooner you dishonour yourself, the more you will save,
for you will always be compelled to accept your dishonour whenever you
find yourself utterly unable to pay your losses. It is therefore more
prudent not to wait until then."

"It is much better still to avoid that fatal impossibility by never
playing otherwise than wi