condole with me on my loss, but began to talk to him about his delicious
Leonilda.

Early next day he sent a page to my room to tell me that if I wanted to
come with him and kiss the king's hand I must put on my gala dress. I put
on a suit of rose-coloured velvet, with gold spangles, and I had the
great honour of kissing a small hand, covered with chilblains, belonging
to a boy of nine. The Prince de St. Nicander brought up the young king to
the best of his ability, but he was naturally a kindly, just, and
generous monarch; if he had had more dignity he would have been an ideal
king; but he was too unceremonious, and that, I think, is a defect in one
destined to rule others.

I had the honour of sitting next the duchess at dinner, and she deigned
to say that she had never seen a finer dress. "That's my way," I said,
"of distracting attention from my face and figure." She smiled, and her
politeness to me during my stay were almost limited to these few words.

When we left the table the duke took me to the apartment occupied by his
uncle, Don Lelio, who recognized me directly. I kissed the venerable old
man's hand, and begged him to pardon me for the freaks of my youth. "It's
eighteen years ago," said he, "since I chose M. Casanova as the companion
of your studies" I delighted him by giving him a brief account of my
adventures in Rome with Cardinal Acquaviva. As we went out, he begged me
to come and see him often.

Towards the evening the duke said,--

"If you go to the Opera Buffa you will please Leonilda."