“Two are always better than one, my dear fellow,” replied the crafty Genoese.

After these remarks we left the two sisters together and went into my room, where he said,—­

“Your Rosalie is contented, and you ought to congratulate yourself on having made her happy, as I am sure she will be.  The only thing that vexes me is that you can’t go and see her yourself with any decency.”

“You are in love with her, my lord.”

“I confess that I am, but I am an old man, and it vexes me.”

“That’s no matter, she will love you tenderly; and if Petri ever becomes her husband, I am sure she will never be anything more than a good friend to him.  Write to me at Florence and tell me how she receives him.”

“Stay here for another three days; the two beauties there will make the time seem short.”

“It’s exactly for that reason that I want to go tomorrow.  I am afraid of Veronique.”

“I shouldn’t have thought that you would have allowed any woman to frighten you.”

“I am afraid she has cast her fatal nets around me, and when the time comes she will be strictly moral.  Rosalie is my only love.”

“Well, here’s a letter from her.”

I went apart to read the letter, the sight of which made my heart beat violently; it ran as follows: 

“Dearest,—­I see you have placed me in the hands of one who will care for me like a father.  This is a new kindness which I owe to the goodness of your heart.  I will write to you at whatever address you send me.  If you like Veronique, my darling, do not fear any jealousy from me; I should be wrong to entertain such a feeling in my present position.  I expect that if you make much of her she will not be able to resist, and I shall be glad to hear that she is lessening your sadness.  I hope you will write me a few lines before you go.”

I went up to the marquis and told him to read it.  He seemed greatly moved.

“Yes,” said he, “the dear girl will find in me her friend and father, and if she marries my godson and he does not treat her as he ought, he will not possess her long.  I shall remember her in my will, and thus when I am dead my care will still continue.  But what do you think of her advice as to Veronique?  I don’t expect she is exactly a vestal virgin, though I have never heard anything against her.”

I had ordered that the table should be laid for four, so Annette sat down without our having to ask her.  Le Duc appeared on the scene, and I told him that if he were ill he might go to bed.

“I am quite well,” said he.

“I am glad to hear it; but don’t trouble now, you shall wait on me when I am at Leghorn.”

I saw that Veronique was delighted at my sending him away, and I resolved then and there to lay siege to her heart.  I began by talking to her in a very meaning manner all supper-time, while the marquis entertained Annette.  I asked him if he thought I could get a felucca next day to take me to Lerici.