"There are some very pretty women in Genoa, but not one to compare with
her whom you took to Vaucluse to-day. I sat opposite to her at table
yesterday evening, and I was struck with her perfect beauty. I offered
her my arm up the stair; I told her that I was sorry to see her so sad,
and if I could do anything for her she had only to speak. You know I was
aware she had no money. Her husband, real or pretended, thanked me for my
offer, and after I had wished them a good night I left them.

"An hour ago you left her and her husband at the door of their apartment,
and soon afterwards I took the liberty of calling. She welcomed me with a
pretty bow, and her husband went out directly, begging me to keep her
company till his return. The fair one made no difficulty in sitting next
to me on a couch, and this struck me as a good omen, but when I took her
hand she gently drew it away. I then told, her, in as few words as I
could, that her beauty had made me in love with her, and that if she
wanted a hundred louis they were at her service, if she would drop her
melancholy, and behave in a manner suitable to the feelings with which
she had inspired me. She only replied by a motion of the head, which
shewed gratitude, but also an absolute refusal of my offer. 'I am going
to-morrow,' said I. No answer. I took her hand again, and she drew it
back with an air of disdain which wounded me. I begged her to excuse me,
and I left the room without more ado.

"That's an account of what happened an hour ago. I am not amorous of her,
it was only a whim; but knowing, as I do, that she has no money, her
manner astonished me. I fancied that you might have placed her in a
position to despise my offer, and this would explain her conduct, in a
measure; otherwise I can't understand it at all. May I ask you to tell me
whether you are more fortunate than I?"