ling her that she had spent in combs, powder, and
pomatum the three livres she had received from her. I recollected then
that she had told me the first day that she had left C---- with ten
paoli.

I blushed for very shame, for I ought to have thought of that.

As soon as the widow had dressed her hair, she left the room to prepare
some coffee for us. I took up a ring which had been laid by her on the
toilet-table, and I saw that it contained a portrait exactly like her; I
was amused at the singular fancy she had had of having her likeness taken
in a man's costume, with black hair. "You are mistaken," she said, "it is
a portrait of my brother. He is two years older than I, and is an officer
in the papal army."

I begged her permission to put the ring on her finger; she consented, and
when I tried, out of mere gallantry, to kiss her hand, she drew it back,
blushing. I feared she might be offended, and I assured her of my
respect.

"Ah, sir!" she answered, "in the situation in which I am placed, I must
think of defending myself against my own self much more than against
you."

The compliment struck me as so fine, and so complimentary to me, that I
thought it better not to take it up, but she could easily read in my eyes
that she would never find me ungrateful for whatever feelings she might
entertain in my favour. Yet I felt my love taking such proportions that I
did not know how to keep it a mystery any longer.

Soon after that, as she was again thanking me for the books--I had given
her, saying that I had guessed her taste exactly, because she did not
like novels, she added, "I owe you an apology for not having sung to you
yet, knowing that you are fond of music." These words made me breathe
freely; without waiting for any answer, she sat down before the
instrument and played several pieces with a facility, with a precision,
with an expression of which no words could convey any idea. I was in
ecstacy. I entreated her to sing; after some little ceremony, she took
one of the music books I had given her, and she sang at sight in a manner
which fairly ravished me. I begged that she would allow me to kiss her
hand, and she did not say yes, but when I took it and pressed my lips on
it, she did not oppose any resistance; I had the courage to smother my
ardent desires, and the kiss I imprinted on her lovely hand was a mixture
of tenderness, respect, and admiration.

I took leave of her, smitten, full of love, and almost