and its gaieties. It all flashed on me in the true light. When we
love, we must have society, were it only to sacrifice it to our love.
I felt a different creature--and such a happy one! My vanity, pride,
self-love,--all were flattered. Heaven knows what glances I cast upon
the audience!

"Little rogue!" the Duchess whispered in my ear with a smile.

Yes, Renee, my wily mother had deciphered the hidden joy in my
bearing, and I could only haul down my flag before such feminine
strategy. Those two words taught me more of worldly wisdom than I have
been able to pick up in a year--for we are in March now. Alas! no more
Italian opera in another month. How will life be possible without that
heavenly music, when one's heart is full of love?

When I got home, my dear, with determination worthy of a Chaulieu, I
opened my window to watch a shower of rain. Oh! if men knew the magic
spell that a heroic action throws over us, they would indeed rise to
greatness! a poltroon would turn hero! What I had learned about my
Spaniard drove me into a very fever. I felt certain that he was there,
ready to aim another letter at me.

I was right, and this time I burnt nothing. Here, then, is the first
love-letter I have received, madame logician: each to her kind:--

"Louise, it is not for your peerless beauty I love you, nor for
your gifted mind, your noble feeling, the wondrous charm of all
you say and do, nor yet for your pride, your queenly scorn of
baser mortals--a pride blent in you with charity, for what angel
could be more tender?--Louise, I love you because, for the sake of