My science gave her courage and confidence, and I was compelled to acknowledge that she was very superior to her sister.

“I am delighted you find me so,” she said; “we must not sleep at all throughout the night.”

“Sleep, my darling, will prove our friend, and our strength renewed by repose will reward you in the morning for what you may suppose lost time.”

And truly, after a quiet sleep, the morning was for her a succession of fresh triumphs, and I crowned her happiness by sending her away with three doubloons, which she took to her mother, and which gave the good woman an insatiable desire to contract new obligations towards Providence.

I went out to get some money from the banker, as I did not know what might happen during my journey.  I had enjoyed myself, but I had spent too much:  yet there was Bellino who, if a girl, was not to find me less generous than I had been with the two young sisters.  It was to be decided during the day, and I fancied that I was sure of the result.

There are some persons who pretend that life is only a succession of misfortunes, which is as much as to say that life itself is a misfortune; but if life is a misfortune, death must be exactly the reverse and therefore death must be happiness, since death is the very reverse of life.  That deduction may appear too finely drawn.  But those who say that life is a succession of misfortunes are certainly either ill or poor; for, if they enjoyed good health, if they had cheerfulness in their heart and money in their purse, if they had for their enjoyment a Cecilia, a Marinetta, and even a more lovely beauty in perspective, they would soon entertain a very different opinion of life!  I hold them to be a race of pessimists, recruited amongst beggarly philosophers and knavish, atrabilious theologians.  If pleasure does exist, and if life is necessary to enjoy pleasure, then life is happiness.  There are misfortunes, as I know by experience; but the very existence of such misfortunes proves that the sum-total of happiness is greater.  Because a few thorns are to be found in a basket full of roses, is the existence of those beautiful flowers to be denied?  No; it is a slander to deny that life is happiness.  When I am in a dark room, it pleases me greatly to see through a window an immense horizon before me.

As supper-time was drawing near, I went to Don Sancio, whom I found in magnificently-furnished apartments.  The table was loaded with silver plate, and his servants were in livery.  He was alone, but all his guests arrived soon after me—­Cecilia, Marina, and Bellino, who, either by caprice or from taste, was dressed as a woman.  The two young sisters, prettily arranged, looked charming, but Bellino, in his female costume, so completely threw them into the shade, that my last doubt vanished.

“Are you satisfied,” I said to Don Sancio, “that Bellino is a woman?”

“Woman or man, what do I care!  I think he is a very pretty ‘castrato’, and ’I have seen many as good-looking as he is.”