persuaded herself that it was Abricotina's doing; and all she desired
to know was whether the portrait was real or imaginary. Rising in haste,
she called Abricotina, while the invisible Leander, with his little
red cap, slipped into the cabinet, impatient to know what passed. The
princess bade Abricotina look upon the picture and tell her what she
thought of it.

After she had viewed it, "I protest!" said she, "'tis the picture of
that generous stranger to whom I am indebted for my life. Yes, yes, I am
sure it is he; his very features, shape, and hair."

"Thou pretendest surprise," said the princess, "but I know it was thou
thyself who put it there."

"Who! I, madam?" replied Abricotina. "I protest I never saw the picture
before in my life. Should I be so bold as to conceal from your knowledge
a thing that so nearly concerns you? And by what miracle could I come by
it? I never could paint, nor did any man ever enter this place; yet here
he is painted with you?"

"Some spirit, then, must have brought it hither," cried the princess.

"How I tremble for fear, madam!" said Abricotina. "Was it not rather
some lover? And therefore, if you will take my advice, let us burn it
immediately."

"'Twere a pity to burn it," cried the princess, sighing; "a finer piece,
methinks, cannot adorn my cabinet." And saying these words, she cast her
eyes upon it. But Abricotina continued obstinate in her opinion that
it ought to be burned, as a thing that could not come there but by the