gage behind him.

Next day the marquis came to tell Rosalie that his godson had no
objection to make to her plan. He added that the young man hoped she
would become his wife, whether the child proved to be his or not.

"He may hope as much as he likes," said Rosalie, with a smile.

"He also hopes that you will allow him to call on you now and then. I
have spoken to my kinswoman, the mother-superior of convent. You are to
have two rooms, and a very good sort of woman is to keep you company,
wait on you, and nurse you when the time comes. I have paid the amount
you are to pay every month for your board. Every morning I will send you
a confidential man, who will see your companion and will bring me your
orders. And I myself will come and see you at the grating as often as you
please."

It was then my sad duty, which the laws of politeness enjoined, to thank
the marquis for his trouble.

"'Tis to you, my lord," said I, "I entrust Rosalie. I am placing her, I
am sure, in good hands. I will go on my way as soon as she is in the
convent; I hope you will write a letter to the mother-superior for her to
take."

"I will write it directly," said he.

And as Rosalie had told him before that she would pay for everything
herself, he gave her a written copy of the agreement he had made.

"I have resolved," said Rosalie to the marquis, "to go into the convent
to-morrow, and I shall be very glad to have a short visit from you the
day after."

"I will be there," said the marquis, "and you may be sure that I will do
all in my power to make your stay agreeable."

The night was a sad one for both of us. Love scarcely made a pause amidst
our alternate complaints and consolations. We swore to be faithful for
ever, and our oaths were sincere, as ardent lovers' oaths always are. But
they are as nought unless they are sealed by destiny, and that no mortal
mind may know.

Rosalie, whose eyes were red and wet with tears, spent most of the
morning in packing up with Veronique, who cried too. I could not look at
her, as I felt angry with myself for thinking how pretty she was. Rosalie
would only take two hundred sequins, telling me that if she wanted more
she could easily let me know.

She told Veronique to look after me well for the two or three days I
should spend at Genoa, made me a mute curtsy, and went out with Costa to
get a sedan-chair. Two hours after, a servant of the marquis's came to
fetch her belongings, and I was thus lef