After some foolish conversation, the Pope’s niece proposed a game at Loo. She asked me to play but on my refusing did not make a point of it, but she insisted on her cousin being her partner.
“He knows nothing about cards,” said she; “but that’s no matter, he will learn, and I will undertake to instruct him.”
As the girl, by whose beauty I was struck, did not understand the game, I offered her a seat by the fire, asking her to grant me the honour of keeping her company, whereupon the elderly woman who had brought her began to laugh, and said I should have some difficulty in getting her niece to talk about anything, adding, in a polite manner, that she hoped I would be lenient with her as she had only just left a convent. I assured her that I should have no difficulty in amusing myself with one so amiable, and the game having begun I took up my position near the pretty niece.
I had been near her for several minutes, and solely occupied in mute admiration of her beauty, when she asked me who was that handsome gentleman who talked so oddly.
“He is a nobleman, and a fellow-countryman of mine, whom an affair of honour has banished from his country.”
“He speaks a curious dialect.”
“Yes, but the fact is that French is very little spoken in Italy; he will soon pick it up in Paris, and then he will be laughed at no longer. I am sorry to have brought him here, for in less than twenty-four hours he was spoiled.”
“How spoiled?”
“I daren’t tell you as, perhaps, your aunt would not like it.”
“I don’t think I should tell her, but, perhaps, I should not have asked.”