M——­ M——­ asked me to sup with her and her lover on the following Monday.  I went and found them both sad—­he for the loss of his new mistress, and she because she had no longer a friend to make the seclusion of the convent pleasant.

About midnight M. de Bemis left us, saying in a melancholy manner that he feared he should be obliged to pass several months in Vienna on important diplomatic business.  Before parting we agreed to sup together every Friday.

When we were alone M——­ M——­ told me that the ambassador would be obliged to me if in the future I would come to the casino two hours later.  I understood that the good-natured and witty profligate had a very natural prejudice against indulging his amorous feelings except when he was certain of being alone.

M. de Bemis came to all our suppers till he left for Vienna, and always went away at midnight.  He no longer made use of his hiding-place, partly because we now only lay in the recess, and partly because, having had time to make love before my arrival, his desires were appeased.  M——­ M——­ always found me amorous.  My love, indeed, was even hotter than it had been, since, only seeing her once a week and remaining faithful to her, I had always an abundant harvest to gather in.  C——­ C——­’s letters which she brought to me softened me to tears, for she said that after the loss of her mother she could not count upon the friendship of any of her relations.  She called me her sole friend, her only protector, and in speaking of her grief in not being able to see me any more whilst she remained in the convent, she begged me to remain faithful to her dear friend.

On Good Friday, when I got to the casino, I found the lovers over-whelmed with grief.  Supper was served, but the ambassador, downcast and absent, neither ate nor spoke; and M——­ M——­ was like a statue that moves at intervals by some mechanism.  Good sense and ordinary politeness prevented me from asking any questions, but on M——­ M——­ leaving us together, M. de Bemis told me that she was distressed, and with reason, since he was obliged to set out for Vienna fifteen days after Easter.  “I may tell you confidentially,” he added, “that I believe I shall scarcely be able to return, but she must not be told, as she would be in despair.”  M——­ M——­ came back in a few minutes, but it was easy to see that she had been weeping.

After some commonplace conversation, M. de Bernis, seeing M——­ M——­ still low-spirited, said,

“Do not grieve thus, sweetheart, go I must, but my return is a matter of equal certainty when I have finished the important business which summons me to Vienna.  You will still have the casino, but, dearest, both friendship and prudence make me advise you not to come here in my absence, for after I have left Venice I cannot depend upon the faith of the gondoliers in my service, and I suspect our friend here cannot flatter himself on his ability to get reliable ones.  I may also tell you that I have