At the end of the first act I was surprised to hear him say that he had a letter of introduction for me from the Marchioness of C——.
“I have just heard your name,” he said, “and tomorrow I shall have the honour of delivering the letter in person, if you will kindly give me your address.”
After these polite preliminaries I felt that I must comply with his request.
I asked after the marquis, his mother-in-law, and Anastasia, saying that I was delighted to hear from the marchioness from whom I had been expecting an answer for the last month.
“The charming marchioness has deigned to entrust me with the answer you speak of.”
“I long to read it.”
“Then I may give you the letter now, though I shall still claim the privilege of calling on you to-morrow. I will bring it to you in your box, if you will allow me.”
“Pray do so.”
He might easily have given it to me from the box where he was, but this would not have suited his plans. He came in, and politeness obliged me to give him my place next to Armelline. He took out an elaborate pocket-book, and gave me the letter. I opened it, but finding that it covered four pages, I said I would read it when I got home, as the box was dark. “I shall stay in Rome till Easter,” he said, “as I want to see all the sights; though indeed I cannot hope to see anything more beautiful than the vision now before me.”
Armelline, who was gazing fixedly at him, blushed deeply. I felt that his compliment, though polite, was entirely out of place, and in some sort an insult to myself. However, I said nothing, but decided mentally that the Florentine Adonis must be a fop of the first water.