I called her to me, gave her the letter, and begged her to read it
attentively. She did so, and gave it me back, asking me if I advised her
to accept Petri's offer.

"If you do dear Rosalie, I shall die of grief; but if I do not yield you,
my honour bids me marry you, and that I am quite ready to do."

At this the charming girl threw herself on my breast, crying in the voice
of true love, "I love you and you alone, darling; but it is not true that
your honour bids you marry me. Ours is a marriage of the heart; our love
is mutual, and that is enough for my happiness."

"Dear Rosalie, I adore you, but I am the best judge of my own honour. If
Petri is a well-to-do man and a man who would make you happy, I must
either give you up or take you myself."

"No, no; there is no hurry to decide. If you love me I am happy, for I
love you and none other. I shall not answer the letter, and I don't want
to hear anything more of Petri."

"You may be sure that I will say no more of him, but I am sure that the
marquis will have a hand in it."

"I daresay, but he won't speak to me twice on the subject."

After this treaty--a more sincere one than the Powers of Europe usually
make--I resolved to leave Genoa as soon as I got some letters for
Florence and Rome. In the meanwhile all was peace and love between myself
and Rosalie. She had not the slightest shadow of jealousy in her soul,
and M. de Grimaldi was the sole witness of our happiness.