"Indeed, you look like an angel."

"You called me a little devil this morning. But here is a fair angel,"
said she, pointing to Annette; "we don't see such in Venice."

"She is my treasure."

Shortly after my niece came in, and seeing me talking and laughing with
the two girls began to examine the new-comer. She told me in French that
she thought her perfectly beautiful, and repeating her opinion to the
girl in Italian gave her a kiss. Marcoline asked her plainly in the
Venetian manner who she was.

"I am this gentleman's niece, and he is taking me back to Marseilles,
where my home is."

"Then you would have been my niece too, if I had married his brother. I
wish I had such a pretty niece."

This pleasant rejoinder was followed by a storm of kisses given and
returned with ardour which one might pronounce truly Venetian, if it were
not that this would wound the feelings of the almost equally ardent
Provencals.

I took my niece for a sail in the bay, and after we had enjoyed one of
those delicious evenings which I think can be found nowhere else--sailing
on a mirror silvered by the moon, over which float the odours of the
jasmine, the orange-blossom, the pomegranates, the aloes, and all the
scented flowers which grow along the coasts--we returned to our lodging,