the seats of honour. Mine was the last, and I was very glad of it, but
although everything was delicious, I ate very little, and scarcely opened
my lips.

Christine was constantly busy, saying pretty things to every one of her
guests, and looking at her husband to make sure that he was pleased with
her.

Once or twice she addressed his aunt and sister in such a gracious manner
that they could not help leaving their places and kissing her tenderly,
congratulating Charles upon his good fortune. I was seated not very far
from Count Algarotti, and I heard him say several times to Christine's
god-mother that he had never felt so delighted in his life.

When four o'clock struck, Charles whispered a few words to his lovely
wife, she bowed to her god-mother, and everybody rose from the table.
After the usual compliments--and in this case they bore the stamp of
sincerity--the bride distributed among all the girls of the village, who
were in the adjoining room, packets full of sugar-plums which had been
prepared before hand, and she took leave of them, kissing them all
without any pride. Count Algarotti invited all the guests to sleep at a
house he had in Treviso, and to partake there of the dinner usually given
the day after the wedding. The uncle alone excused himself, and the
mother could not come, owing to her disease which prevented her from
moving. The good woman died three months after Christine's marriage.

Christine therefore left her village to follow her husband, and for the
remainder of their lives they lived together in mutual happiness.

Count Algarotti, Christine's god-mother and my two noble friends, went