“Then you have forgotten that five years ago, on our wedding-day, you promised me always to trust me?” he asked. “You have forgotten that you took an oath that you would tell me so soon as your heart had declared for another man?”
Fanny could not bear his look, and lowered her eyes.
“It has not declared for another man, and, therefore, I have nothing to confide to you,” she said, in a low voice.
The baron constantly held her hand in his own, and his eyes were still fixed on her face.
“Let us consider the matter together,” he said. “Permit me to review your cavaliers and admirers, and to examine with you if there is not one among them whom you may deem worthy of your love.”
“What!” ejaculated Fanny, having recourse to an outburst of merriment in order to conceal her embarrassment, “you want to make me a Portia, and perform with me a scene from the ‘Merchant of Venice?’”
“Yes, you are Portia, and I will play the role of your confidant,” said Baron Arnstein, smiling. “Well, let us begin our review. First, there is Count Palfy, a member of the old nobility, of the most faultless manners, young, rich, full of ardent love for—”
“For your dinner-parties and the rare dishes that do not cost him any thing,” interrupted Fanny. “He is an epicure, who prefers dining at other people’s tables because he is too stingy to pay for the Indian birds’-nests which he relishes greatly. As for myself, he never admires me until after dinner, for so soon as his stomach is at rest his heart awakes and craves for food; and his heart is a gourmand, too—it believes love to be a dish; voila tout!”
“Next, there is the handsome Marchese Pallafredo,” said her husband, smiling.
“He loves me because he has been told that I speak excellent and pure German, and because he wants me to teach him how to speak German. He takes me for a grammar, by means of which he may become familiar with our language without any special effort.”