"Certainly," I said, "and before you come to Venice, for everybody would
laugh at you, if you could not write. I see that it makes you sad, my
dear, but it cannot be helped."

"I am sad, because I cannot learn writing in a week."

"I undertake," said her uncle, "to teach you in a fortnight, if you will
only practice diligently. You will then know enough to be able to improve
by your own exertions."

"It is a great undertaking, but I accept it; I promise you to work night
and day, and to begin to-morrow."

After dinner, I advised the priest not to leave that evening, to rest
during the night, and I observed that, by going away before day-break, he
would reach P---- in good time, and feel all the better for it. I made the
same proposal to him in the evening, and when he saw that his niece was
sleepy, he was easily persuaded to remain. I called for the innkeeper,
ordered a carriage for the clergyman, and desired that a fire might be
lit for me in the next room where I would sleep, but the good priest said
that it was unnecessary, because there were two large beds in our room,
that one would be for me and the other for him and his niece.

"We need not undress," he added, "as we mean to leave very early, but you
can take off your clothes, sir, because you are not going with us, and
you will like to remain in bed to-morrow morning."

"Oh!" remarked Christine, "I must undress myself, otherwise I could not
sleep, but I only want a few minutes to get ready in the morning."