ly fallen in love.

"I will call to-morrow morning upon Count Algarotti," he said to me, "and
you may write to the priest to come with all the necessary documents to
make the contract of marriage which I long to sign."

His delight and his surprise were intense when I told him that my wedding
present to Christine was a dispensation from the Pope for her to be
married in Lent.

"Then," he exclaimed, "we must go full speed ahead!"

In the conference which was held the next day between my young
substitute, his god-father, and M. Dandolo, it was decided that the
parson should be invited to come with his niece. I undertook to carry the
message, and leaving Venice two hours before morning I reached
P---- early. The priest said he would be ready to start immediately after
mass. I then called on Christine, and I treated her to a fatherly and
sentimental sermon, every word of which was intended to point out to her
the true road to happiness in the new condition which she was on the
point of adopting. I told her how she ought to behave towards her
husband, towards his aunt and his sister, in order to captivate their
esteem and their love. The last part of my discourse was pathetic and
rather disparaging to myself, for, as I enforced upon her the necessity
of being faithful to her husband, I was necessarily led to entreat her
pardon for having seduced her. "When you promised to marry me, after we
had both been weak enough to give way to our love, did you intend to
deceive me?"

"Certainly not."

"Then you have not deceived me. On the contrary, I owe you some gratitude
for having thought that, if our union should prove unhappy, it was better
to find another husband for me, and I thank God that you have succeeded
so well. Tell me, now, what I can answer to your friend in case he should
ask me, during the first night, why I am so different to what a virgin
ought to be?"

"It is not likely that Charles, who is full of reserve and propriety,
would ask you such a thing, but if he should, tell him positively that
you never had a lover, and that you do not suppose yourself to be
different to any other girl."

"Will he believe me?"

"He would deserve your contempt, and entail punishment on himself if he
did not. But dismiss all anxiety; that will not occur. A sensible man, my
dear Christine, when he has been rightly brought up, never ventures upon
such a question, because he is not only certain to displease, but also
sure that