“You are not the kind of man to be expelled from any society.”

“That is a very kindly compliment.”

“Say, rather, a very true one.”

“I am happy to hear you say so, but it would be both foolish and presumptuous for me to say so myself.”

Thus we made merry on our way, above all at the expense of the canon, who had been begging the countess to intercede with me to give him leave to absent himself half an hour.

“I want to call on a lady,” said he; “I should lose her favour forever if she came to know that I had been in Milan without paying her a visit.”

“You must submit to the conditions,” replied the amiable countess, “so don’t count on my intercession.”

We got to Milan exactly at noon, and stepped out at the pastry-cook’s door.  The landlady begged the countess to confide her child to her care, and shewed her a bosom which proved her fruitfulness.  This offer was made at the foot of the stairs, and the countess accepted it with charming grace and dignity.  It was a delightful episode, which chance had willed should adorn the entertainment I had invented.  Everybody seemed happy, but I was the happiest of all.  Happiness is purely a creature of the imagination.  If you wish to be happy fancy that you are so, though I confess that circumstances favourable to this state are often beyond our control.  On the other hand, unfavourable circumstances are mostly the result of our own mistakes.

The countess took my arm, and we led the way into my room which I found exquisitely neat and clean.  As I had expected, Zenobia was there, but I was surprised to see Croce’s mistress, looking very pretty; however, I pretended not to know her.  She was well dressed, and her face, free from the sadness it had borne before, was so seductive in its beauty, that I felt vexed at her appearance at that particular moment.

“Here are two pretty girls,” said the countess.  “Who are you, pray?”

“We are the chevalier’s humble servants,” said Zenobia, “and we are here only to wait on you.”

Zenobia had taken it on herself to bring her lodger, who began to speak Italian, and looked at me in doubt, fearing that I was displeased at her presence.  I had to reassure her by saying I was very glad she had come with Zenobia.  These words were as balm to her heart; she smiled again, and became more beautiful than ever.  I felt certain that she would not remain unhappy long; it was impossible to behold her without one’s interest being excited in her favour.  A bill signed by the Graces can never be protested; anyone with eyes and a heart honours it at sight.

My humble servants took the ladies’ cloaks and followed them into the bedroom, where the three dresses were laid out on a table.  I only knew the white satin and lace, for that was the only one I had designed.  The countess, who walked before her sisters, was the first to notice it, and exclaimed,—­