I defy any reasonable man to
answer in the affirmative.

On our way back to the castle Clementine, who was on my arm, laughed to
herself once or twice. I felt curious to know what she was laughing at,
and said,--

"May I ask you, fair countess, why you laugh thus to yourself?"

"Forgive me; I was not amused at the poor girl's recognizing you, for
that must have been a mistake, but I cannot help laughing when I think of
your face at her wordy 'You are more deserving of imprisonment than I.'"

"Perhaps you think she was right."

"I? Not at all. But how is it that she attacked you and not my
brother-in-law?"

"Probably because she thought I looked a greater sinner than he."

"That, I suppose, must have been the reason. One should never heed the
talk of mad people."

"You are sarcastic, but I take it all in good part. Perhaps I am as great
a sinner as I look; but beauty should be merciful to me, for it is by
beauty that I am led astray."

"I wonder the empress does not shut up men as well as women."

"Perhaps she hopes to see them all at her feet when there are no more
girls left to amuse them."

"That is a jest. You should rather say that she cannot forgive her own
sex the lack of a virtue which she exercises so eminently, and which is
so easily observed."

"I have nothing to allege against the empress's virtue, but with your
leave I beg to entertain very strong doubts as to the possibility of the
general exercise of that virtue which we call continence."

"No doubt everyone thinks by his own standard. A man may be praised for
temperance in whom temperance is no merit. What is easy to you may be
hard to me, and 'vice versa'. Both of us may be right."

This interesting conversation made me compare Clementine to the fair
marchioness at Milan, but there was this difference between them: Mdlle.
Q---- spoke with an air of gravity and importance, whereas Clementine
expounded her system with great simplicity and an utter indifference of
manner. I thought her observations so acute and her utterance so perfect
and artistic, that I felt ashamed of having misjudged her at dinner. Her
silence, and the blush which mounted to her face when anyone asked her a
question, had made me suspect both confusion and poverty in her ideas,
for timidity is often another word for stupidity; but the conversation I
have just reported made me feel that I had made a great mistake. The
marchioness, being older and having seen more of the