Towards the end of the dinner, as we were conversing, the marchioness
made her appearance, and, as a matter of course, without being announced.
Her looks threw me into raptures; I thought her a perfect beauty. She did
not give the cardinal time to meet her, but sat down near him, while I
remained standing, according to etiquette.

Without appearing to notice me, the marchioness ran wittily over various
topics until coffee was brought in. Then, addressing herself to me, she
told me to sit down, just as if she was bestowing charity upon me.

"By-the-by, abbe," she said, a minute after, "have you read my sonnet?"

"Yes, madam, and I have had the honour to return it to his eminence. I
have found it so perfect that I am certain it must have cost you a great
deal of time."

"Time?" exclaimed the cardinal; "Oh! you do not know the marchioness."

"Monsignor," I replied, "nothing can be done well without time, and that
is why I have not dared to chew to your eminence an answer to the sonnet
which I have written in half an hour."

"Let us see it, abbe," said the marchioness; "I want to read it."

"Answer of Silesia to Love." This title brought the most fascinating
blushes on her countenance. "But Love is not mentioned in the sonnet,"
exclaimed the cardinal. "Wait," said the marchioness, "we must respect
the idea of the poet:"