During the few days immediately preceding this, I had had the revelation of a hitherto unknown pride. I felt it awake within me now, and, impelled by an irresistible impulse, I determined to watch Leoni's manner as he talked with my father in his counting-room. He was slow about coming upstairs, and I rightly inferred that my father had detained him, to show him, as was his ingenuous custom, the marvels of his workmanship. I went resolutely down to the shop and entered, feigning surprise to find Leoni there. My mother had always forbidden me to enter the shop, her greatest fear being that I should be taken for a shopgirl. But I sometimes slipped away to go down and kiss my poor father, who had no greater joy than to receive me there. When I entered he uttered an exclamation of pleasure and said to Leoni: 'Look, look, monsieur le baron, what I have shown you amounts to nothing; here is my loveliest diamond.' Leoni's face betrayed the keenest delight; he smiled at my father with emotion and at me with passion. Never had such a glance met mine. I became red as fire. An unfamiliar feeling of joy and passion brought a tear to the brink of my eyelid as my father kissed me on the forehead. We stood a few seconds without speaking; then Leoni, taking up the conversation, found a way to say to my father everything that was most likely to flatter his self-esteem as an artist and tradesman. He seemed to take extreme pleasure in making him explain the process by which rough stones were transformed into precious gems, brilliant and transparent. He said some interesting things on that subject himself, and, addressing me, gave me some mineralogical information that was within my reach. I was confounded by the wit and grace with which he succeeded in exalting and ennobling our condition in our own eyes. He talked to us about products of the goldsmith's art which he had seen in his travels, and extolled especially the works of his compatriot Cellini, whom he placed beside Michael Angelo. In short, he ascribed so much merit to my father's profession and praised his talent so highly that I almost wondered whether I was the daughter of a hard-working mechanic or a genius. My father accepted this last hypothesis, and, being charmed with the Venetian's manners, took him up to my mother. During this visit, Leoni displayed so much wit and intelligence, and talked upon every subject in such a superior way that I was fairly fascinated as I listened to him. I had never conceived the idea of such a man. Those who had been pointed out to me previously as the most attractive were so insignificant and vapid beside him that I thought I must be dreaming. I was too ignorant to appreciate all Leoni's knowledge and eloquence, but I understood him instinctively. I was dominated by his glance, enthralled by his tales, surprised and fascinated by every new resource that he developed.