o'clock she may go, and I shall not expect to see her again for
three days."

After I had dined I called as usual on the fair marchioness, and found
her in a transport of delight. Her lottery ticket had got her five
hundred sequins.

"And that makes you happy, does it?" said I.

"It does, not because of the gain in money, though I am by no means rich,
but for the beauty of the idea and for the thought that I owe it all to
you. These two things speak volumes in your favour."

"What do they say?"

"That you deserve to be loved."

"And also that you love me?"

"No, but my heart tells me as much."

"You make me happy, but does not your heart also tell you that you should
prove your love?"

"Dearest, can you doubt it?"

With these words she gave me her hand to kiss for the first time.

"My first idea," she added, "was to put the whole forty sequins on the
'ambe'."

"You hadn't sufficient courage?"

"It wasn't that, I felt ashamed to do it. I was afraid that you might
have a thought you would not tell me of--namely, that if I gave you the
forty sequins to risk on the lottery, you would think I despised your
present. This would have been wrong, and if you had encouraged me I
should have risked all the money."

"I am so sorry not to have thought of it. You would have had ten thousand
sequins, and I should be a happy man."

"We will say no more about it."

"Your brother tells me that we are going to the masqued ball under the
direction of the marquis, and I leave you to imagine how glad I feel at
the thought of spending a whole night with you. But one thought troubles
me."

"What is that?"

"I am afraid it will not go off so well as before."

"Don't be afraid, the marquis is a man of much ingenuity, and loves my
cousin's honour as herself. He is sure to get us disguises in which we
shall not be recognized."

"I hope so. He wants to pay for everything, including the supper."

"He cannot do better than imitate your example in that respect."

On the evening of the ball I went at an early hour to the pastry-cook's,
where I found the marquis well pleased with the progress that had been
made. The dressing room was shut. I asked him in a suggestive manner if
he was satisfied with Zenobia.

"Yes, with her work," he answered; "I did not ask her to do anything else
for me."

"Oh! of course I believe it, but I am afraid your sweetheart will be
rather sceptical."

"She knows that I cannot love anyone besi