o mention."

Percy was very rich, and very passionate. I am sure that if I had named
twenty-five thousand guineas as overplus, or rather as exchange--for I
did not care for Redegonde--he would have said done. However, I did not,
and I am glad of it. Even now, when a hundred thousand francs would be a
fortune to me, I never repent of my delicacy.

After we had breakfasted merrily together, I told him that I liked him
well, but that in the first place it would be well to ascertain whether
the two commodities would consent to change masters.

"I am sure of Redegonde's consent," said Lord Percy.

"But I am not at all sure of Agatha's," said I.

"Why not?"

"I have very strong grounds for supposing that she would not consent to
the arrangement. What reasons have you for the contrary opinion?"

"She will shew her sense."

"But she loves me."

"Well, Redegonde loves me."

"I dare say; but does she love me?"

"I am sure I don't know, but she will love you."

"Have you consulted her upon the point?"

"No, but it is all the same. What I want to know now is whether you
approve of my plan, and how much you want for the exchange, for your
Agatha is worth much more than my Redegonde."

"I am delighted to hear you do my mistress justice. As for the money
question, we will speak of that later. In the first place I will take
Agatha's opinion, and will let you know the result to-morrow morning."

The plan amused me, and though I was passionately attached to Agatha I
knew my inconstant nature well enough to be aware that another woman, may
be not so fair as she, would soon make me forget her. I therefore
resolved to push the matter through if I could do so in a manner that
would be advantageous for her.

What surprised me was that the young nobleman had gained possession of
Redegonde, whose mother appeared so intractable, but I knew what an
influence caprice has on woman, and this explained the enigma.

Agatha came to supper as usual, and laughed heartily when I told her of
Lord Percy's proposal.

"Tell me," said I, "if you would agree to the change?"

"I will do just as you like," said she; "and if the money he offers be
acceptable to you, I advise you to close with him."

I could see by the tone of her voice that she was jesting, but her reply
did not please me. I should have liked to have my vanity flattered by a
peremptory refusal, and consequently I felt angry. My face grew grave,
and Agatha became melancholy