here was really no harm, as they only loved each
other as brother and sister, and that if I wanted her to sleep by herself
all I had to do was to get her a new bed. This speech, delivered with
arch simplicity, in her Bolognese jargon, made me laugh with all my
heart, for in the violence of her gesticulations she had disclosed half
her charms, and I saw nothing worth looking at. In spite of that, it was
doubtless decreed that I should fall in love with her skin, for that was
all she had.

If I had been alone I should have brought matters to a crisis on the
spot, but I had a distaste to the presence of her mother and her
scoundrelly brother. I was afraid lest some unpleasant scenes might
follow. I gave her ten ducats to buy a bed, said good night, and left the
house. I returned to my lodging, cursing the too scrupulous mothers of
the opera girls.

I passed the whole of the next morning with Sir Mann, in his gallery,
which contained some exquisite paintings, sculptures, mosaics, and
engraved gems. On leaving him, I called on Therese and informed her of my
misadventure of the night before. She laughed heartily at my story, and I
laughed too, in spite of a feeling of anger due to my wounded
self-esteem.

"You must console yourself," said she; "you will not find much difficulty
in filling the place in your affections."

"Ah! why are you married?"

"Well, it's done; and there's no helping it. But listen to me. As you
can't do without someone, take up with the Corticelli; she's as good as
any other woman, and won't keep you waiting long."

On my return to my lodging, I found the Abbe Gama, whom I had invited to
dinner, and he asked me if I would accept a post to represent Portugal at
the approaching European Congress at Augsburg. He told me that if I did
the work well, I could get anything I liked at Lisbon.

"I am ready to do my best," said I; "you have only to write to me, and I
will tell you where to direct your letters." This proposal made me long
to become a diplomatist.

In the evening I went to the opera-house and spoke to the ballet-master,
the dancer who was to take part in the 'pas de deux', and to the Jew, who
told me that my protegee should be satisfied in two or three days, and
that she should perform her favourite 'pas' for the rest of the carnival.
I saw the Corticelli, who told me she had got her bed, and asked me to
come to supper. I accepted the invitation, and when the opera was over I
went to her h