Marcoline followed my advice with regard to her toilette, and looked brilliant in all respects; and I, wishing to shine in the eyes of the proud Venetian nobles, had dressed myself with the utmost richness.  I wore a suit of grey velvet, trimmed with gold and silver lace; my point lace shirt was worth at least fifty louis; and my diamonds, my watches, my chains, my sword of the finest English steel, my snuff-box set with brilliants, my cross set with diamonds, my buckles set with the same stones, were altogether worth more than fifty thousand crowns.  This ostentation, though puerile in itself, yet had a purpose, for I wished M. de Bragadin to know that I did not cut a bad figure in the world; and I wished the proud magistrates who had made me quit my native land to learn that I had lost nothing, and could laugh at their severity.

In this gorgeous style we drove to the ambassador’s dinner at half-past one.

All present were Venetians, and they welcomed Marcoline enthusiastically.  She who was born with the instinct of good manners behaved with the grace of a nymph and the dignity of a French princess; and as soon as she was seated between two grave and reverend signors, she began by saying that she was delighted to find herself the only representative of her sex in this distinguished company, and also that there were no Frenchmen present.

“Then you don’t like the French,” said M. Memmo.

“I like them well enough so far as I know them, but I am only acquainted with their exterior, as I don’t speak or understand the language.”

After this everybody knew how to take her, and the gaiety became general.

She answered all questions to the point, and entertained the company with her remarks on French manners, so different to Venetian customs.

In the course of dinner M. Querini asked how she had known him, and she replied that she had often seen him at Divine service, whereat the devotee seemed greatly flattered.  M. Morosini, pretending not to know that she was to return to Venice, told her that unless she made haste to acquire French, the universal language, she would find London very tedious, as the Italian language was very little known there.

“I hope,” she replied, “that M. de Seingalt will not bring me into the society of people with whom I cannot exchange ideas.  I know I shall never be able to learn French.”

When we had left the table the ambassadors begged me to tell the story of my escape from The Leads, and I was glad to oblige them.  My story lasted for two whole hours; and as it was noticed that Marcoline’s eyes became wet with tears when I came to speak of my great danger.  She was rallied upon the circumstance, and told that nieces were not usually so emotional.

“That may be, gentlemen,” she replied, “though I do not see why a niece should not love her uncle.  But I have never loved anyone else but the hero of the tale, and I cannot see what difference there can be between one kind of love and another.”