and writhed
under the thought that he could not go to Naples and torment his
relations, who were in reality respectable people, but monsters according
to his shewing.

Madame Sabatini, the dancer, had returned to Bologna, having made enough
money to rest upon her laurels. She married a professor of anatomy, and
brought all her wealth to him as a dower. She had with her her sister,
who was not rich and had no talents, but was at the same time very
agreeable.

At the house I met an abbe, a fine young man of modest appearance. The
sister seemed to be deeply in love with him, while he appeared to be
grateful and nothing more.

I made some remark to the modest Adonis, and he gave me a very sensible
answer. We walked away together, and after telling each other what
brought us to Bologna we parted, agreeing to meet again.

The abbe, who was twenty-four or twenty-five years old, was not in
orders, and was the only son of a noble family of Novara, which was
unfortunately poor as well as noble.

He had a very scanty revenue, and was able to live more cheaply at
Bologna than Novara, where everything is dear. Besides, he did not care
for his relations; he had no friends, and everybody there was more or
less ignorant.

The Abbe de Bolini, as he was called, was a man of tranquil mind, living
a peaceful and quiet life above all things. He liked lettered men more
than letters, and did not trouble to gain the reputation of a wit. He
knew he was not a fool, and when he mixed with learned men he was quite
clever enough to be a good listener.

Both temperament and his purse made him temperate in all things, and he
had received a sound Christian education. He never talked about religion,
but nothing scandalized him. He seldom praised and never blamed.

He was almost entirely indifferent to women, flying from ugly women and
blue stockings, and gratifying the passion of pretty ones more out of
kindliness than love, for in his heart he considered women as more likely
to make a man miserable than happy. I was especially interested in this
last characteristic.

We had been friends for three weeks when I took the liberty of asking him
how he reconciled his theories with his attachment to Brigida Sabatini.

He supped with her every evening, and she breakfasted with him every
morning. When I went to see him, she was either there already or came in
before my call was over. She breathed forth love in every glance, while
the abbe was kind