on her lap, her sister and the
three gentlemen being seated in the other carriage. I called out, with a
laugh,

"Drive to Milan."

"Milan! Milan!" they exclaimed with one voice. "Capital! capital!"

Clairmont galloped in front of us and went off. Clementine pretended to
be astonished, but her sister looked as if she had known something of our
destination before. All care, however, had disappeared, and the highest
spirits prevailed. We stopped at a village half-way between St. Angelo
and Milan to blow the horses, and everybody got down.

"What will my wife say?" asked the count.

"Nothing, for she will not know anything about it, and if she does I am
the only guilty party. You are to dine with me in a suite of rooms which
I have occupied incognito since I have been at Milan; for you will
understand that I could not have my wants attended to at your house,
where the place is already taken."

"And how about Zenobia?"

"Zenobia was a lucky chance, and is a very nice girl, but she would not
suffice for my daily fare."

"You are a lucky fellow!"

"I try to make myself comfortable."

"My dear husband," said the Countess Ambrose, "you proposed a visit to
Milan two years ago, and the chevalier proposed it a few hours ago, and
now we are on our way."

"Yes, sweetheart, but my idea was that we should spend a month there."

"If you want to do that," said I, "I will see to everything."

"Thank you, my dear sir; you are really a wonderful man."

"You do me too much honour, count, there is nothing wonderful about me,
except that I execute easily an easy task."

"Yes; but you will confess that a thing may be difficult from the way in
which we regard it, or from the position in which we find ourselves."

"You are quite right."

When we were again on our way the countess said,--

"You must confess, sir, that you are a very fortunate man."

"I do not deny it, my dear countess, but my happiness is due to the
company I find myself in; if you were to expel me from yours, I should be
miserable."

"You are not the kind of man to be expelled from any society."

"That is a very kindly compliment."

"Say, rather, a very true one."

"I am happy to hear you say so, but it would be both foolish and
presumptuous for me to say so myself."

Thus we made merry on our way, above all at the expense of the canon, who
had been begging the countess to intercede with me to give him leave to
absent himself half an hour.

"I wan