With these polite expressions we reached the house. When I got to my room
I found the count there with a long face, as if he wanted to pity me but
dared not do it. However, my good temper gave him the courage to say:--

"Triulzi will give you a thousand sequins; that will fit you up again."

"For the dress you mean?"

"Yes."

"I wanted to give it to your wife, but she said she would despise it,
coming from my hands."

"You astonish me; she is mad after it. You must have wounded her haughty
temper in some way or another. But sell it, and get the thousand
sequins."

"I will let you know to-morrow."

I slept four or five hours, and then rose and went out in my great coat
to call on Greppi, for I had no more money. I took a thousand sequins,
begging him not to tell my affairs to anyone. He replied that my affairs
were his own, and that I could count on his secrecy. He complimented me
on the esteem in which Madame Palesi held me, and said he hoped to meet
me at supper at her house one night.

"Such a meeting would give me the greatest pleasure," I replied.

On leaving him I called on Therese, but as there were some people with
her I did not stay long. I was glad to see that she knew nothing about my
losses or my affairs. She said that Greppi wanted to sup with me at her
house, and that she would let me know when the day was fixed. When I got
home I found the count in front of my fire.

"My wife is in a furious rage with you," said he, "and won't tell me
why."

"The reason is, my dear count, that I won't let her accept the dress from
any hand but mine. She told me that she should despise it as a gift from
me, but she has nothing to be furious about that I know."

"It's some mad notion of hers, and I don't know what to make of it. But
pray attend to what I am about to say to you. You despise a thousand
sequins--good. I congratulate you. But if you are in a position to
despise a sum which would make me happy, offer up a foolish vanity on the
shrine of friendship, take the thousand sequins, and lend them to me, and
let my wife have the dress, for of course he will give it her."

This proposal made me roar with laughter, and certainly it was of a
nature to excite the hilarity of a sufferer from confirmed melancholia,
which I was far from being. However, I stopped laughing when I saw how
the poor count blushed from shame. I kissed him affectionately to calm
him, but at last I was cruel enough to say,

"I will will