I spent an hour with the witty hunchback, who shewed me several of his engravings, and I returned to the hotel where I found the Hungarian waiting to see Henriette.  He did not know that she would that morning receive us in the attire of her sex.  The door was thrown open, and a beautiful, charming woman met us with a courtesy full of grace, which no longer reminded us of the stiffness or of the too great freedom which belong to the military costume.  Her sudden appearance certainly astonished us, and we did not know what to say or what to do.  She invited us to be seated, looked at the captain in a friendly manner, and pressed my hand with the warmest affection, but without giving way any more to that outward familiarity which a young officer can assume, but which does not suit a well-educated lady.  Her noble and modest bearing soon compelled me to put myself in unison with her, and I did so without difficulty, for she was not acting a part, and the way in which she had resumed her natural character made it easy for me to follow her on that ground.

I was gazing at her with admiration, and, urged by a feeling which I did not take time to analyze, I took her hand to kiss it with respect, but, without giving me an opportunity of raising it to my lips, she offered me her lovely mouth.  Never did a kiss taste so delicious.

“Am I not then always the same?” said she to me, with deep feeling.

“No, heavenly creature, and it is so true that you are no longer the same in my eyes that I could not now use any familiarity towards you.  You are no longer the witty, free young officer who told Madame Querini about the game of Pharaoh, end about the deposits made to your bank by the captain in so niggardly a manner that they were hardly worth mentioning.”

“It is very true that, wearing the costume of my sex, I should never dare to utter such words.  Yet, dearest friend, it does not prevent my being your Henriette—­that Henriette who has in her life been guilty of three escapades, the last of which would have utterly ruined me if it had not been for you, but which I call a delightful error, since it has been the cause of my knowing you.”

Those words moved me so deeply that I was on the point of throwing myself at her feet, to entreat her to forgive me for not having shewn her more respect, but Henriette, who saw the state in which I was, and who wanted to put an end to the pathetic scene, began to shake our poor captain, who sat as motionless as a statue, and as if he had been petrified.  He felt ashamed at having treated such a woman as an adventuress, for he knew that what he now saw was not an illusion.  He kept looking at her with great confusion, and bowing most respectfully, as if he wanted to atone for his past conduct towards her.  As for Henriette, she seemed to say to him, but without the shadow of a reproach;

“I am glad that you think me worth more than ten sequins.”

We sat down to dinner, and from that moment she did the honours of the table with the perfect ease of a person who is accustomed to fulfil that difficult duty.  She treated me like a beloved husband, and the captain like a respected friend.  The poor Hungarian begged me to tell her that if he had seen her, as she was now, in Civita Vecchia, when she came out of the tartan, he should never have dreamed of dispatching his cicerone to her room.