been afraid of offending me by speaking to a grand lady at my
table. She must have seen him, too."

"I don't think so, she has said nothing about it to me."

"It is true that he was standing behind her all the time. But let us come
to the point. Is Marcoline your wife, or have you any intention of
marrying her?"

"I love her as tenderly as any man can love a woman, but I cannot make
her a wife; the reasons are known only to herself and me."

"I respect your secret; but tell me if you would object to my begging her
to return to Venice with her uncle?"

"I think Marcoline is happy, but if she has succeeded in gaining the
favour of your excellency, she is happier still; and I feel sure that if
she were to go back to Venice under the exalted patronage of your
excellency, she would efface all stains on her reputation. As to
permitting her to go, I can put no stumbling-block in the way, for I am
not her master. As her lover I would defend her to the last drop of my
blood, but if she wants to leave me I can only assent, though with
sorrow."

"You speak with much sense, and I hope you will not be displeased at my
undertaking this good work. Of course I shall do nothing without your
consent."

"I respect the decrees of fate when they are promulgated by such a man as
you. If your excellency can induce Marcoline to leave me, I will make no
objection; but I warn you that she must be won mildly. She is
intelligent, she loves me, and she knows that she is independent; besides
she reckons on me, and she has cause to do so. Speak to her to-day by
herself; my presence would only be in your way. Wait till dinner is over;
the interview might last some time."

"My dear Casanova, you are an honest man. I am delighted to have made
your acquaintance."

"You do me too much honour. I may say that Marcoline will hear nothing of
all this."

When I got back to the inn, I gave Marcoline an exact account of the
whole conversation, warning her that she would be supposed to know
nothing about it.

"You must execute a masterly stroke, dearest," said I, "to persuade M.
Querini that I did not lie in saying that you had not seen your uncle. As
soon as you see him, you must give a shout of surprise, exclaim, 'My dear
uncle!' and rush to his arms. This would be a splendid and dramatic
situation, which would do you honour in the eyes of all the company."

"You may be sure that I shall play the part very well, although my heart
be sad."

At