more wit and knowledge of the world than Rosalie, but in my then state of
mind this grieved rather than rejoiced me. M. de Grimaldi seemed sorry to
see me melancholy, and forced me, as it were, to join in the
conversation. As he was reproaching me in a friendly manner for my
silence, Veronique said with a pleasing smile that I had a good reason to
be silent after the declaration of love I had made to her, and which she
had received so ill. I was astonished at this, and said that I did not
remember having ever made her such a declaration; but she made me laugh
in spite of myself, when she said that her name that day was Lindane.

"Ah, that's in a play," said I, "in real life the man who declares his
love in words is a simpleton; 'tis with deeds the true lover shews his
love."

"Very true, but your lady was frightened all the same."

"No, no, Veronique; she is very fond of you."

"I know she is; but I have seen her jealous of me."

"If so, she was quite wrong."

This dialogue, which pleased me little, fell sweetly on the marquis's
ears; he told me that he was going to call on Rosalie next morning, and
that if I liked to give him a supper, he would come and tell me about her
in the evening. Of course I told him that he would be welcome.

After Veronique had lighted me to my room, she asked me to let my
servants wait on me, as if she did so now that my lady was gone, people
might talk about her.