My brother, sitting down with his head between his hands, and obliged to
listen in silence to this long catalogue of well-deserved reproaches,
gave something of a comic element to the scene. In spite of that,
however, I was much touched by the sad aspects of the girl's story. I
felt at once that I must take charge of her, and put an end to this
ill-assorted match. I imagined that I should not have much difficulty in
sending her back to Venice, which she might never have quitted if it had
not been for her trust in me, founded on the fallacious promises of her
seducer.

The true Venetian character of the girl struck me even more than her
beauty. Her courage, frank indignation, and the nobility of her aspect
made me resolve not to abandon her. I could not doubt that she had told a
true tale, as my brother continued to observe a guilty silence.

I watched her silently for some time, and, my mind being made up, said,--

"I promise to send you back to Venice with a respectable woman to look
after you; but you will be unfortunate if you carry back with you the
results of your amours."

"What results? Did I not tell you that we were going to be married at
Geneva?"

"Yes, but in spite of that . . ."

"I understand you, sir, but I am quite at ease on that point, as I am
happy to say that I did not yield to any of the wretch's desires."

"Remember," said the abbe, in a plaintive voice, "the oath you took to be