We went to pay a call on the lady who had come to the castle the day before. There was a canon regular there, who after a great many polite speeches in praise of my country, which he knew only from books, asked me of what order was the cross I carried on my breast. I replied, with a kind of boastful modesty, that it was a peculiar mark of the favour of the Holy Father, the Pope, who had freely made me a knight of the Order of St. John Lateran, and a prothonotary-apostolic. This monk had stayed at home far from the world, or else he would not have asked me such a question. However, far from thinking he was offending me, he thought he was honouring me by giving me an opportunity of talking of my own merit. At London, the greatest possible rudeness is to ask anyone what his religion is, and it is something the same in Germany; an Anabaptist is by no means ready to confess his creed. And in fact the best plan is never to ask any questions whatever, not even if a man has change for a louis. Clementine was delightful at dinner. She replied wittily and gracefully to all the questions which were addressed to her. True, what she said was lost on the majority of her auditors--for wit cannot stand before stupidity--but I enjoyed her talk immensely. As she kept filling up my glass I reproached her, and this gave rise to the following little dialogue which completed my conquest. "You have no right to complain," said she, "Hebe's duty is to keep the cup of the chief of the gods always full." "Very good; but you know Jupiter sent her away." "Yes, but I know why. I will take care not to stumble in the same way; and no Ganymede shall take my place for a like cause." "You are very wise. Jupiter was wrong, and henceforth I will be Hercules. Will that please you, fair Hebe?" "No; because he did not marry her till after her death." "True, again. I will be Iolas then, for . . ." "Be quiet. Iolas was old." "True; but so was I yesterday. You have made me young again." "I am very glad, dear Iolas; but remember what I did when he left me." "And what did you do? I do not remember." "I did not believe a word he said." "You can believe." "I took away the gift I had made." At these words this charming girl's face was suffered with blushes. If I had touched her with my hand, sure it would have been on fire; but the rays that darted from her eyes froze my heart. Philosophers, be not angry if I talk of freezing rays. It is no miracle, but a very natural phenomenon, which is happening every day. A great love, which elevates a man's whole nature, is a strong flame born out of a great cold, such as I then felt for a moment; it would have killed me if it had lasted longer.