“Yes, really.  I will give him twenty-five sequins on the condition that he spends it all on the wedding.”

“Twenty-five sequins!  That will make people talk; but what care we?  I will give you an answer to-morrow.”

“And a kiss now?”

“With all my heart.”

Zenobia went away in great delight, and I went out to call on my banker and dear Therese.

When the door was opened the pretty maid recognized me, and taking me by the hand led me to her mistress, who was just going to get up.  Her emotion at seeing me was so great that she could not utter a word, but only claps me to her breast.

Our natural transports over, Therese told me that she had got tired of her husband, and that for the last six months they had not been living together.  She had made him an allowance to get rid of him, and he lived on it at Rome.

“And where is Cesarino?”

“In this town.  You can see him whenever you like.”

“Are you happy?”

“Quite.  People say that I have a lover, but it is not true; and you can see me at any time with perfect liberty.”

We spent two pleasant hours in telling each other of our experiences since our last meeting, and then, finding her as fresh and fair as in the season of our early loves, I asked her if she had vowed to be faithful to her husband.

“At Florence,” she replied, “I was still in love with him; but now, if I am still pleasing in your eyes, we can renew our connection, and live together till we die.”

“I will soon shew you, darling, that I love you as well as ever.”

She answered only by giving herself up to my embrace.

After action and contemplation I left her as amorous as she had been eighteen years before, but my passion found too many new objects to remain constant long.

Countess A——­ B——­ began to be more polite.  “I know where you have been,” said she, with a pleased air; “but if you love that person, you will not go and see her again, or else her lover will leave her.”

“Then I would take his place, madam.”

“You are right in amusing yourself with women who know how to earn your presents.  I am aware that you never give anything till you have received evident proofs of their affection.”

“That has always been my principle.”

“It’s an excellent way to avoid being duped.  The lover of the person you have been with kept a lady in society for some time in great splendour, but all the rest of us despised her.”

“Why so, if you please?”

“Because she lowered herself so terribly.  Greppi is absolutely a man of no family whatever.”

Without expressing my surprise at the name of Greppi, I replied that a man need not be well born to be an excellent lover.

“The only thing needful,” said I, “is a fine physique and plenty of money, and those ladies who despised their friend were either ridiculously proud or abominably envious.  I have not the slightest doubt that if they could find any more Gieppis they would be willing enough to lower themselves.”