o arise;
no doubt she knew that as her father I should have strength to resist,
and she was right. One gets used to everything, and I was ashamed to be
sad any longer.

I told Donna Lucrezia of the curious welcome her sister had given me in
Rome, and she went off into peals of laughter. We reminded each other of
the night at Tivoli, and these recollections softened our hearts. From
these softened feelings to love is but a short way; but neither place nor
time were convenient, so we pretended not to be thinking of it.

After a few moments of silence I told her that if she cared to come to
Rome with me to pay a visit to her sister Angelique, I would take her
back to Naples at the beginning of Lent. She promised to let me know
whether she could come on the following day.

I sat between her and Leonilda at dinner; and as I could no longer think
of the daughter, it was natural that my old flame for Lucrezia should
rekindle; and whether from the effect of her gaiety and beauty, or from
my need of someone to love, or from the excellence of the wine, I found
myself in love with her by the dessert, and asked her to take the place
which her daughter was to have filled.

"I will marry you," said I, "and we will all of us go to Rome on Monday,
for since Leonilda is my daughter I do not like to leave her at Naples."

At this the three guests looked at each other and said nothing. I did not
repeat my proposal, but led the conversation to some other topic.

After dinner I felt sleepy and lay down on a bed, and did not wake till
eight o'clock, when to my surprise I found that my only companion was
Lucrezia, who was writing. She heard me stir, and came up to me and said
affectionately,--

"My dear friend, you have slept for five hours; and as I did not like to
leave you alone I would not go with the duke and our daughter to the
opera."

The memory of former loves awakens when one is near the once beloved
object, and desires rapidly become irresistible if the beauty still
remain. The lovers feel as if they were once more in possession of a
blessing which belongs to them, and of which they have been long deprived
by unfortunate incidents. These were our feelings, and without delay,
without idle discussion, and above all, without false modesty, we
abandoned ourselves to love, the only true source of nature.

In the first interval, I was the first to break the silence; and if a man
is anything of a wit, is he the less so at that d