n every sense of the word.

"My dear friend," she said, "you are very good to call on me directly you
arrive, and I hope you will dine with us to-morrow. I owe all my
happiness to you, and that is even a sweeter thought than the
recollection of the passionate hours we have spent together. Let us kiss,
but no more; my duty as an honest wife forbids me from going any further,
so do not disturb the happiness you have given."

I pressed her hand tenderly, to skew that I assented to the conditions
she laid down.

"Oh! by the way," she suddenly exclaimed, "I have a pleasant surprise for
you."

She went out, and a moment afterward returned with Veronique, who had
become her maid. I was glad to see her and embraced her affectionately,
asking after Annette. She said her sister was well, and was working with
her mother.

"I want her to come and wait on my niece while we are here," said I.

At this Rosalie burst out laughing.

"What! another niece? You have a great many relations! But as she is your
niece, I hope you will bring her with you to-morrow."

"Certainly, and all the more willingly as she is from Marseilles."

"From Marseilles? Why, we might know each other. Not that that would
matter, for all your nieces are discreet young persons. What is her
name?"

"Crosin."

"I don't know it."

"I daresay you don't. She is the daughter of a cousin of mine who lived
at Marseilles."

"Tell that to someone else; but, after all, what does it matter? You
choose well, amuse yourself, and make them happy. It may be wisdom after
all, and at any rate I congratulate you. I shall be delighted to see your
niece, but if she knows me you must see that she knows her part as well."

On leaving Madame Paretti I called on the Signora Isola-Bella, and gave
her the Marquis Triulzi's letter. Soon after she came into the room and
welcomed me, saying that she had been expecting me, as Triulzi had
written to her on the subject. She introduced me to the Marquis Augustino
Grimaldi delta Pietra, her 'cicisbeoin-chief' during the long absence of
her husband, who lived at Lisbon.

The signora's apartments were very elegant. She was pretty with small
though regular features, her manner was pleasant, her voice sweet, and
her figure well shaped, though too thin. She was nearly thirty. I say
nothing of her complexion, for her face was plastered with white and red,
and so coarsely, that these patches of paint were the first things that
caught my