A few days later she gave me a sealed letter, saying,-- “The servant has given me this letter when you were away. I am offended by his doing so, and I want you to avenge me.” I called the man, and said,-- “Where did you get this letter?” “From a young man, who is unknown to me. He gave me a crown, and begged me to give the letter to the lady without your seeing me, and he promised to give me two crowns more if I brought him a reply tomorrow. I did not think I was doing wrong, sir, as the lady was at perfect liberty to tell you.” “That’s all very well, but you must go, as the lady, who gave me the letter unopened, as you can see for yourself, is offended with you.” I called Le Duc, who paid the man and sent him away. I opened the letter, and found it to be from Petri. Rosalie left my side, not wishing to read the contents. The letter ran as follows: “I have seen you, my dear Rosalie. It was just as you were coming out of the theatre, escorted by the Marquis de Grimaldi, who is my godfather. I have not deceived you; I was still intending to come and marry you at Marseilles next spring, as I promised. I love you faithfully, and if you are still my good Rosalie I am ready to marry you here in the presence of my kinfolk. If you have done wrong I promise never to speak of it, for I know that it was I who led you astray. Tell me, I entreat you, whether I may speak to the Marquis de Grimaldi with regard to you. I am ready to receive you from the hands of the gentleman with whom you are living, provided you are not his wife. Be sure, if you are still free, that you can only recover your honour by marrying your seducer.” “This letter comes from an honourable man who is worthy of Rosalie,” I thought to myself, “and that’s more than I shall be, unless I marry her myself. But Rosalie must decide.” I called her to me, gave her the letter, and begged her to read it attentively. She did so, and gave it me back, asking me if I advised her to accept Petri’s offer. “If you do dear Rosalie, I shall die of grief; but if I do not yield you, my honour bids me marry you, and that I am quite ready to do.” At this the charming girl threw herself on my breast, crying in the voice of true love, “I love you and you alone, darling; but it is not true that your honour bids you marry me. Ours is a marriage of the heart; our love is mutual, and that is enough for my happiness.” “Dear Rosalie, I adore you, but I am the best judge of my own honour. If Petri is a well-to-do man and a man who would make you happy, I must either give you up or take you myself.” “No, no; there is no hurry to decide. If you love me I am happy, for I love you and none other. I shall not answer the letter, and I don’t want to hear anything more of Petri.” “You may be sure that I will say no more of him, but I am sure that the marquis will have a hand in it.” “I daresay, but he won’t speak to me twice on the subject.”