As soon as I was awake, I thought of the shepherdess who had danced the ‘forlana’ so well at the ball, and I resolved to pay her a visit. I was not more interested in her beauty than to find out who her father and mother, “old friends of mine,” could be. I dressed and walked to the “Three Kings,” and on walking into the room which the shepherdess had indicated to me, what was my astonishment to find myself face to face with the Countess Rinaldi, whom Zavoisky had introduced me to at the ‘locanda’ of Castelletto sixteen years ago. The reader will remember how M. de Bragadin paid her husband the money he won from me at play.
Madame Rinaldi had aged somewhat, but I knew her directly. However, as I had never had more than a passing fancy for her, we did not go back to days which did neither of us any honour.
“I am delighted to see you again,” said I; “are you still living with your husband?”
“You will see him in half an hour, and he will be glad to present his respects to you.”
“I should not at all care for it myself, madam; there are old quarrels between us which I do not want to renew, so, madam, farewell.”
“No, no, don’t go yet, sit down.”
“Pardon me.”
“Irene, don’t let the gentleman go.”
At these words Irene ran and barred the way—not like a fierce mastiff, but like an angel, entreating me to stay with that mingled look of innocence, fear, and hope, of which girls know the effect so well. I felt I could not go.
“Let me through, fair Irene,” said I, “we may see each other somewhere else.”