The following day, for some reason or other I did not explain to myself, I gave unusual attention to my toilet. I generally read while my waiting‐ maid was arranging my hair according to her own fancy, but that day I turned more than once towards the mirror. I observed with pleasure the golden lustre of my hair in the morning sunlight, and suggested myself the addition of a bow of ribbon of the same color as my belt. After I was dressed I gave, before leaving my room, a scrutinizing look in a large glass where I could see myself from head to foot. It seemed to me I was becomingly attired, and I felt pleased. My satisfaction was confirmed by an exclamation that escaped Lorenzo as soon as he caught sight of me. He was already seated at the breakfast‐ table, which stood at one end of the room. “You are charming this morning, Ginevra!” said he, smiling. He then grew thoughtful. After remaining silent a few moments, he resumed, perhaps to divert my mind from another thought he supposed it occupied with: “I was sorry to leave you alone so long yesterday. How did you while away the time during the long afternoon?” If he had asked this question the evening before at the imaginary _tête‐à‐tête_ I had planned, what a minute, animated account should I have given him! How readily the thoughts which then occupied my mind would have sprung to my lips! He regarded me as a child, but I was no longer one; and beholding me all at once in the new aspect of an energetic, courageous woman, capable of aiding him with a firm hand in ascending to higher regions, he would have been surprised and touched; the passing gleam that sometimes manifested itself in his eyes would perhaps have been less transient this time, and I should have succeeded in kindling a flame of which this light was a mere emblem!... Lorenzo, if you had only been willing! If you had only listened to me then, entered into my feelings, and read my heart, what a life ours might have been!... Ah! happiness and goodness are more closely allied in this world than is usually supposed. If virtue sometimes does not escape misfortune, it is sure there is no happiness without it! But the impetus by which I hoped to attain my aim at a single bound had been suddenly checked, and I no longer remembered now what I longed to say the evening before, or the motive I then had in view. I therefore answered my husband’s question with the utmost coolness without interrupting my breakfast: “I went to S. Roch’s. It rained in torrents, and, finding the Comtesse de Kergy and her daughter at the door without any carriage, I took them home.” “I am glad you did. There is no family more respected, and Kergy is one of the most intelligent of travellers.” “Yes, so I should suppose. I have heard him speak of his travels. There was a meeting at the Hôtel de Kergy yesterday at four o’clock, which I was invited to attend, and he made an address.” “And spoke very ably, I have no doubt. I have heard him, and can judge.”