yself bitterly for having let
out my silly calculations.

A few days later she gave me a sealed letter, saying,--

"The servant has given me this letter when you were away. I am offended
by his doing so, and I want you to avenge me."

I called the man, and said,--

"Where did you get this letter?"

"From a young man, who is unknown to me. He gave me a crown, and begged
me to give the letter to the lady without your seeing me, and he promised
to give me two crowns more if I brought him a reply tomorrow. I did not
think I was doing wrong, sir, as the lady was at perfect liberty to tell
you."

"That's all very well, but you must go, as the lady, who gave me the
letter unopened, as you can see for yourself, is offended with you."

I called Le Duc, who paid the man and sent him away. I opened the letter,
and found it to be from Petri. Rosalie left my side, not wishing to read
the contents. The letter ran as follows:

"I have seen you, my dear Rosalie. It was just as you were coming out of
the theatre, escorted by the Marquis de Grimaldi, who is my godfather. I
have not deceived you; I was still intending to come and marry you at
Marseilles next spring, as I promised. I love you faithfully, and if you
are still my good Rosalie I am ready to marry you here in the presence of
my kinfolk. If you have done wrong I promise never to speak of it, for I
know that it was I who led you astray. Tell me, I entreat you, whether I
may speak to the Marquis de Grimaldi with regard to you. I am ready to
receive you from the hands of the gentleman with whom you are living,
provided you are not his wife. Be sure, if you are still free, that you
can only recover your honour by marrying your seducer."

"This letter comes from an honourable man who is worthy of Rosalie," I
thought to myself, "and that's more than I shall be, unless I marry her
myself. But Rosalie must decide."

I called her to me, gave her the letter, and begged her to read it
attentively. She did so, and gave it me back, asking me if I advised her
to accept Petri's offer.

"If you do dear Rosalie, I shall die of grief; but if I do not yield you,
my honour bids me marry you, and that I am quite ready to do."

At this the charming girl threw herself on my breast, crying in the voice
of true love, "I love you and you alone, darling; but it is not true that
your honour bids you marry me. Ours is a marriage of the heart; our love
is mutual, and that is enough for my happ