"Not at all," observed M. D---- R----, "but I leave you the choice."

"My lord, I could not be guilty of ingratitude."

And I remained there standing, uneasy, keeping my eyes on the ground, not
even striving to conceal my mortification, which was, after all, very
natural in such a position. I dreaded looking at Madame F----, for I knew
that she could easily guess all my feelings. An instant after, her
foolish husband coldly remarked that I should certainly have a more
fatiguing service with him than with M. D---- R----, and that, of course,
it was more honourable to serve the general governor of the galeazze than
a simple sopra-committo. I was on the point of answering, when Madame
F---- said, in a graceful and easy manner, "M. Casanova is right," and she
changed the subject. I left the room, revolving in my mind all that had
just taken place.

My conclusion was that M. F---- had asked M. D---- R---- to let me go with
him at the suggestion of his wife, or, at least with her consent, and it
was highly flattering to my love and to my vanity. But I was bound in
honour not to accept the post, unless I had a perfect assurance that it
would not be disagreeable to my present patron. "I will accept," I said
to myself, "if M. D---- R---- tells me positively that I shall please him
by doing so. It is for M. F to make him say it."

On the same night I had the honour of offering my arm to Madame
F---during the procession which takes place in commemoration of the death
of our Lord and Saviour, which was then attended on foot by all the
nobility. I expected she would mention the matter, but she did not. My
love was in despair, and through the night I could not close my eyes. I
feared she had been offended by my refusal, and was overwhelmed with