Madame X. C. V. had with her an old Greek named Zandiri, brother to M. de Bragadin’s major-domo, who was just dead.  I uttered some expressions of sympathy, and the boor did not take the trouble to answer me, but I was avenged for his foolish stiffness by the enthusiasm with which I was welcomed by everyone else.  The eldest girl, her sisters, and the two sons, almost overwhelmed me with friendliness.  The eldest son was only fourteen, and was a young fellow of charming manners, but evidently extremely independent, and sighed for the time when he would be able to devote himself to a career of profligacy for which he was well fitted.  Mdlle.  X. C. V. was both beautiful and charming in her manner, and had received an excellent education of which, however, she made no parade.  One could not stay in her presence without loving her, but she was no flirt, and I soon saw that she held out no vain hopes to those who had the misfortune not to please her.  Without being rude she knew how to be cold, and it was all the worse for those whom her coldness did not shew that their quest was useless.

The first hour I passed in her company chained me a captive to her triumphant car.  I told her as much, and she replied that she was glad to have such a captive.  She took the place in my heart where Esther had reigned a week before, but I freely confess that Esther yielded only because she was away.  As to my attachment to Sylvia’s daughter, it was of such a nature as not to hinder me falling in love with any other woman who chanced to take my fancy.  In the libertine’s heart love cannot exist without substantial food, and women who have had some experience of the world are well aware of this fact.  The youthful Baletti was a beginner, and so knew nothing of these things.

M. Farsetti, a Venetian of noble birth, a knight of Malta, a great student of the occult sciences, and a good Latin versifier, came in at one o’clock.  Dinner was just ready and Madame X. C. V. begged him to stay.  She asked me also to dine with them, but wishing to dine with Madame d’Urfe I refused the invitation for the nonce.

M. Farsetti, who had known me very well at Venice, only noticed me by a side-glance, and without shewing any vexation I paid him back in the same coin.  He smiled at Mdlle.  X. C. V.’s praise of my courage.  She noticed his expression, and as if to punish him for it went on to say that I had now the admiration of every Venetian, and that the French were anxious to have the honour of calling me a fellow-citizen.  M. Farsetti asked me if my post at the lottery paid well.  I replied, coolly,

“Oh, yes, well enough for me to pay my clerks’ salaries.”

He understood the drift of my reply, and Mdlle.  X. C. V. smiled.

I found my supposed son with Madame d’Urfe, or rather in that amiable visionary’s arms.  She hastened to apologize for carrying him off, and I turned it off with a jest, having no other course to take.