very well, and in whatever he said I was glad to recognize taste, good
sense, and intelligence. He was well-informed, though he had been brought
up at Naples, and his manners were very distinguished. His mother made
him sit between us at table.

"His favourite amusement," she said to me, "is music. You must hear him
on the clavier, and though I am eight years older I shall not be
surprised if you pronounce him the better performer."

Only a woman's delicate instinct could have suggested this remark; men
hardly ever approach women in this respect.

Whether from natural impulses or self-esteem, I rose from the table so
delighted with my son that I embraced him with the utmost tenderness, and
was applauded by the company. I asked everybody to dine with me the next
day, and my invitation was joyfully accepted; but the Corticelli said,
with the utmost simplicity,

"May I come, too?"

"Certainty; you too."

After dinner the Abbe Gama asked me to breakfast with him, or to have him
to breakfast the next morning, as he was longing for a good talk with me.

"Come and breakfast with me," said I, "I shall be delighted to see you."

When the guests had gone Don Cesarino, as the pretended brother of
Therese was called, asked me if I would walk with him. I kissed him, and
replied that my carriage was at his service, and that he and his
brother-in-law could drive in it, but that I had resolved not to leave
his sister that day. Palesi seemed quite satisfied with the arrangement,
and they both went away.

When we were alone, I gave Therese an ardent embrace, and congratulated
her on having such a brother.

"My dear, he is the fruit of our amours; he is your son. He makes me
happy, and is happy himself, and indeed he has everything to make him
so."

"And I, too, am happy, dear Therese. You must have seen that I recognized
him at once."

"But do you want to give him a brother? How ardent you are!"

"Remember, beloved one, that to-morrow we are to be friends, and nothing
more."

By this my efforts were crowned with success, but the thought that it was
the last time was a bitter drop in the cup of happiness.

When we had regained our composure, Therese said,--

"The duke who took me from Rimini brought up our child; as soon as I knew
that I was pregnant I confided my secret to him. No one knew of my
delivery, and the child was sent to nurse at Sorrento, and the duke had
him baptized under the name of Caesar Philip Land. H