e great honor
conferred upon his humble home by the visit of his dear friend, the
Chevalier de Seingalt.

"But where, my dear Olivo, is the Chevalier de Seingalt of whom you
speak?" enquired Lorenzi in his clear, insolent voice.

Casanova's first impulse was to throw the contents of his glass in
Lorenzi's face.

Amalia touched his arm lightly, to restrain him, and said: "Many people
to-day, Chevalier, still know you best by the old and more widely
renowned name of Casanova."

"I was not aware," said Lorenzi, with offensive gravity, "that the King
of France had ennobled Signor Casanova."

"I was able to save the King that trouble," answered Casanova quietly.
"I trust, Lieutenant Lorenzi, that you will be satisfied with an
explanation to which the Burgomaster of Nuremberg offered no objection
when I gave it to him in circumstances with which I need not weary the
company." There was a moment of silent expectation. Casanova continued:
"The alphabet is our common heritage. I chose a collocation of letters
which pleased my taste, and ennobled myself without being indebted to
any prince, who might perhaps have been disinclined to allow my claim.
I style myself Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt. I am indeed sorry,
Lieutenant Lorenzi, if this name fails to meet with your approval."

"Seingalt! It is a splendid name," said the Abbate, repeating it several
times, as if he were tasting it.

"There is not a man in the world," exclaimed Olivo, "who has a better
right to name himself Chevalier than my distinguished friend Casanova!"

"As for you, Lorenzi," added the Marchese, "when your reputation has
reached as far as that of Signor Casanova, Chevalier de Seingalt, we
shall be willing enough, should you so desire, to give you also the
title of Chevalier."

Casanova, somewhat nettled at not being allowed to fight his own battle,
was about to resume the defence in person, when out of the dusk of the
garden two elderly gentlemen, soberly habited, put in an appearance
beside the table. Olivo greeted them with effusive cordiality, being
delighted to turn the conversation and to put an end to a dispute that
threatened to destroy the harmony of the evening. The newcomers were
the brothers Ricardi. As Casanova had learned from Olivo, they were
old bachelors. At one time members of the great world, they had been
unfortunate in various undertakings. At length they had returned to
their birthplace, the neighboring village, to lead a re