he queen; "he called me a little
devil."

"He meant to say that your highness is as witty as an angel."

I longed for the queen to ask me why I had not been presented by M.
Zuccatto, for I had a reply on the tip of my tongue that would have
deprived the ambassador of his sleep for a week, while I should have
slept soundly, for vengeance is a divine pleasure, especially when it is
taken on the proud and foolish; but the whole conversation was a compound
of nothings, as is usual in courts.

After my interview was over I got into my sedan-chair and went to Soho
Square. A man in court dress cannot walk the streets of London without
being pelted with mud by the mob, while the gentleman look on and laugh.
All customs must be respected; they are all at once worthy and absurd.

When I got to the house of Madame Cornelis, I and my Negro Jarbe were
shewn upstairs, and conducted through a suite of gorgeous apartments to a
room where the lady of the house was sitting with two English ladies and
two English gentlemen. She received me with familiar politeness, made me
sit down in an armchair beside her, and then continued the conversation
in English without introducing me. When her steward told her that dinner
was ready, she gave orders for the children to be brought down.

I had long desired this meeting, and when I saw Sophie I ran to meet her;
but she, who had profited by her mother's instructions, drew back with
profound courtesy and a compliment learnt by heart. I did not say
anything for fear I should embarrass her, but I felt grieved to the
heart.

Madame Cornelis then brought forward her son, telling the company that I
had brought him to England after superintending his education for six
years. She spoke in French, so I was glad to see that her friends
understood that language.

We sat down to table; Madame Cornelis between her two children, and I
between the two Englishwomen, one of whom delighted me by her pleasant
wit. I attached myself to her as soon as I noticed that the mistress of
the house only spoke to me by chance, and that Sophie did not look at me.
She was so like me that no mistake was possible. I could see that she had
been carefully tutored by her mother to behave in this manner, and I felt
this treatment to be both absurd and impertinent.

I did not want to let anyone see that I was angry, so I began to
discourse in a pleasant strain on the peculiarities of English manners,
taking care, however, not t