We had a delicious supper.  I had to teach Christine how to eat oysters and truffles, which she then saw for the first time.  Gatta wine is like champagne, it causes merriment without intoxicating, but it cannot be kept for more than one year.  We went to bed before midnight, and it was broad daylight when I awoke.  The curate had left the room so quietly that I had not heard him.

I looked towards the other bed, Christine was asleep.  I wished her good morning, she opened her eyes, and leaning on her elbow, she smiled sweetly.

“My uncle has gone.  I did not hear him.”

“Dearest Christine, you are as lovely as one of God’s angels.  I have a great longing to give you a kiss.”

“If you long for a kiss, my dear friend, come and give me one.”

I jump out of my bed, decency makes her hide her face.  It was cold, and I was in love.  I find myself in her arms by one of those spontaneous movements which sentiment alone can cause, and we belong to each other without having thought of it, she happy and rather confused, I delighted, yet unable to realize the truth of a victory won without any contest.

An hour passed in the midst of happiness, during which we forgot the whole world.  Calm followed the stormy gusts of passionate love, and we gazed at each other without speaking.

Christine was the first to break the silence

“What have we done?” she said, softly and lovingly.

“We have become husband and wife.”

“What will my uncle say to-morrow?”

“He need not know anything about it until he gives us the nuptial benediction in his own church.”

“And when will he do so?”

“As soon as we have completed all the arrangements necessary for a public marriage.”

“How long will that be?”

“About a month.”

“We cannot be married during Lent.”

“I will obtain permission.”

“You are not deceiving me?”

“No, for I adore you.”

“Then, you no longer want to know me better?”

“No; I know you thoroughly now, and I feel certain that you will make me happy.”

“And will you make me happy, too?”

“I hope so.”

“Let us get up and go to church.  Who could have believed that, to get a husband, it was necessary not to go to Venice, but to come back from that city!”

We got up, and, after partaking of some breakfast, we went to hear mass.  The morning passed off quickly, but towards dinner-time I thought that Christine looked different to what she did the day before, and I asked her the reason of that change.

“It must be,” she said, “the same reason which causes you to be thoughtful.”

“An air of thoughtfulness, my dear, is proper to love when it finds itself in consultation with honour.  This affair has become serious, and love is now compelled to think and consider.  We want to be married in the church, and we cannot do it before Lent, now that we are in the last days of carnival; yet we cannot wait until Easter, it would be too long.  We must therefore obtain a dispensation in order to be married.  Have I not reason to be thoughtful?”