d found only a piece of paper besmeared
with ink, quite illegible, except her own name, which had not been
touched.

"You have acted," she said, "most nobly; but you must agree with me that
I cannot be certain that this piece of paper is really my note of hand,
although I see my name on it."

"True, madam; and if you are not certain of it, I confess myself in the
wrong."

"I must be certain of it, and I am so; but you must grant that I could
not swear to it."

"Granted, madam."

During the following days it struck me that her manner towards me was
singularly altered. She never received me in her dishabille, and I had to
wait with great patience until her maid had entirely dressed her before
being admitted into her presence.

If I related any story, any adventure, she pretended not to understand,
and affected not to see the point of an anecdote or a jest; very often
she would purposely not look at me, and then I was sure to relate badly.
If M. D---- R---- laughed at something I had just said, she would ask what
he was laughing for, and when he had told her, she would say it was
insipid or dull. If one of her bracelets became unfastened, I offered to
fasten it again, but either she would not give me so much trouble, or I
did not understand the fastening, and the maid was called to do it. I
could not help shewing my vexation, but she did not seem to take the
slightest notice of it. If M. D---- R---- excited me to say something
amusing or witty, and I did not speak immediately, she would say that my
budget was empty, laughing, and adding that the wit of poor M. Casanova
was worn out. Full of rage, I would plead guilty by my silence to her
taunting accusation, but I was thoroughly miserable, for I did not see
any cause for that extraordinary change in her feelings, being conscious
that I had not given her any motive for it. I wanted to shew her openly
my indifference and contempt, but whenever an opportunity offered, my
courage would forsake me, and I would let it escape.

One evening M. D---- R---- asking me whether I had often been in love, I
answered,

"Three times, my lord."

"And always happily, of course."

"Always unhappily. The first time, perhaps, because, being an
ecclesiastic, I durst not speak openly of my love. The second, because a
cruel, unexpected event compelled me to leave the woman I loved at the
very moment in which my happiness would have been complete. The third
time, because the feeling o