him. This was his ruin; for Nina is a
beautiful woman, and in her then state of undress she would have seduced
the coldest of men.

"The count reproved her, but his voice and his manner were ill-assured,
and growing bolder as she watched his embarrassment, Nina replied that he
might have her torn to pieces if he liked, but she would not dance
against her will, and nowhere in her agreement was it stipulated that she
should dance twice in the same evening, whether for his pleasure or
anyone else's. She also expressed her anger at making her appear before
him in a state of semi-nudity, and swore she would never forgive his
barbarous and despotic conduct.

"'I will dance no more before you or your people. Let me go away, or kill
me if you like; do your worst on me, and you shall find that I am a
Venetian and a free woman!'

"The viceroy sat astonished, and said she must be mad. He then summoned
my husband and told him she was no longer in his service. Nina was told
she was free, and could go where she would.

"She went back to her dressing-room and came to us, where she was living.

"The ballet went on without her, and the poor viceroy sat in a dream, for
the poison had entered into his veins.

"Next day a wretched singer named Molinari called on Nina and told her
that the viceroy was anxious to know whether she were really mad or not,
and would like to see her in a country house, the name of which he
mentioned: this was just what the wretched woman wanted.

"'Tell his highness,' she said to Molinari, 'that I will come, and that
he will find me as gentle as a lamb and as good as an angel.'

"This is the way in which the connection began, and she fathomed his
character so astutely that she maintained her conquest as much with
ill-treatment and severity as with her favours."

Such was the tale of the hapless Madame Schizza. It was told with all the
passion of an Italian divided between repentance for the past and the
desire of vengeance.

The next day, as I had expected, I received a letter from Henriette. It
ran as follows:

"My Dear Old Friend,--Nothing could be more romantic than our meeting at
my country house six years ago, and now again, after a parting of so many
years. Naturally we have both grown older, and though I love you still I
am glad you did not recognize me. Not that I have become ugly, but I am
stout, and this gives me another look. I am a widow, and well enough off
to tell you that if you lack