“Oh! tell him that I do not doubt it.  But is it not strange that a poor little female dress should command more respect than the garb of an officer?”

“Pray do not abuse the officer’s costume, for it is to it that I am indebted for my happiness.”

“Yes,” she said, with a loving smile, “as I owe mine to the sbirri of Cesena.”

We remained for a long time at the table, and our delightful conversation turned upon no other topic than our mutual felicity.  If it had not been for the uneasiness of the poor captain, which at last struck us, we should never have put a stop either to the dinner or to, our charming prattle.

CHAPTER II

I Engage a Box at the Opera, in Spite of Henriette’s Reluctance—­M.  Dubois Pays Us a Visit and Dines with Us; My Darling Plays Him a Trick—­Henriette Argues on Happiness—­We Call on Dubois, and My Wife Displays Her Marvellous Talent—­M.  Dutillot The Court gives a Splendid Entertainment in the Ducal Gardens—­A Fatal Meeting—­I Have an Interview with M. D’Antoine, the Favourite of the Infante of Spain

The happiness I was enjoying was too complete to last long.  I was fated to lose it, but I must not anticipate events.  Madame de France, wife of the Infante Don Philip, having arrived in Parma, the opera house was opened, and I engaged a private box, telling Henriette that I intended to take her to the theatre every night.  She had several times confessed that she had a great passion for music, and I had no doubt that she would be pleased with my proposal.  She had never yet seen an Italian opera, and I felt certain that she wished to ascertain whether the Italian music deserved its universal fame.  But I was indeed surprised when she exclaimed,

“What, dearest!  You wish to go every evening to the opera?”

“I think, my love, that, if we did not go, we should give some excuse for scandal-mongers to gossip.  Yet, should you not like it, you know that there is no need for us to go.  Do not think of me, for I prefer our pleasant chat in this room to the heavenly concert of the seraphs.”

“I am passionately fond of music, darling, but I cannot help trembling at the idea of going out.”

“If you tremble, I must shudder, but we ought to go to the opera or leave Parma.  Let us go to London or to any other place.  Give your orders, I am ready to do anything you like.”

“Well, take a private box as little exposed as possible.”

“How kind you are!”

The box I had engaged was in the second tier, but the theatre being small it was difficult for a pretty woman to escape observation.

I told her so.

“I do not think there is any danger,” she answered; “for I have not seen the name of any person of my acquaintance in the list of foreigners which you gave me to read.”

Thus did Henriette go to the opera.  I had taken care that our box should not be lighted up.  It was an opera-buffa, the music of Burellano was excellent, and the singers were very good.