“There you are wrong.  Mother M——­ M——­, at——­ in Muran, is certainly handsomer.”

“I have heard her talked of and I have seen her once, but I do not think it possible that she can be procured for money.”

“I think so,” said he, laughing, “and when I think I mostly have good reasons.”

“You surprise me; but all the same I don’t mind betting you are deceived.”

“You would lose.  As you have only seen her once, I suppose you would not recognize her portrait?”

“I should, indeed, as her face left a strong impression on my mind.”

“Wait a minute.”

He got up from the table, went out, and returned a minute after with a box containing eight or ten miniatures, all in the same style, namely, with hair in disorder and bare necks.

“These,” said I, “are rare charms, with which you have doubtless a near acquaintance?”

“Yes, and if you recognize any of them be discreet.”

“You need not be afraid.  Here are three I recognize, and this looks like M——­ M——­; but confess that you may have been deceived—­at least, that you did not have her in the convent or here, for there are women like her.”

“Why do you think I have been deceived?  I have had her here in her religious habit, and I have spent a whole night with her; and it was to her individually that I sent a purse containing five hundred sequins.  I gave fifty to the good procurer.”

“You have, I suppose, visited her in the parlour, after having her here?”

“No, never, as she was afraid her titular lover might hear of it.  You know that was the French ambassador.”

“But she only saw him in the parlour.”

“She used to go to his house in secular dress whenever he wanted her.  I was told that by the man who brought her here.”

“Have you had her several times?”

“Only once and that was enough, but I can have her whenever I like for a hundred sequins.”

“All that may be the truth, but I would wager five hundred sequins that you have been deceived.”

“You shall have your answer in three days.”

I was perfectly certain, I repeat, that the whole affair was a piece of knavery; but it was necessary to have it proved, and I shuddered when the thought came into my head that after all it might be a true story.  In this case I should have been freed from a good many obligations, but I was strongly persuaded of her innocence.  At all events, if I were to find her guilty (which was amongst possible occurrences), I resigned myself to lose five hundred sequins as the price of this horrible discovery and addition to my experience of life.  I was full of restless anguish—­the worst, perhaps, of the torments of the mind.  If the honest Englishman had been the victim of a mystification, or rather knavery, my regard for M——­ M——­’s honour compelled me to find a way to undeceive him without compromising her; and such was my plan, and thus fortune favoured me.  Three or four days after, Mr. Murray told the doctor that he wished to see me.  We went to him, and he greeted me thus: