style="font-size:15px;"> When we had left the table the ambassadors begged me to tell the story of my escape from The Leads, and I was glad to oblige them. My story lasted for two whole hours; and as it was noticed that Marcoline's eyes became wet with tears when I came to speak of my great danger. She was rallied upon the circumstance, and told that nieces were not usually so emotional."That may be, gentlemen," she replied, "though I do not see why a niece should not love her uncle. But I have never loved anyone else but the hero of the tale, and I cannot see what difference there can be between one kind of love and another."
"There are five kinds of love known to man," said M. Querini. "The love of one's neighbour, the love of God, which is beyond compare, the highest of all, love matrimonial, the love of house and home, and the love of self, which ought to come last of all, though many place it in the first rank."
The nobleman commented briefly on these diverse kinds of love, but when he came to the love of God he began to soar, and I was greatly astonished to see Marcoline shedding tears, which she wiped away hastily as if to hide them from the sight of the worthy old man whom wine had made more theological than usual. Feigning to be enthusiastic, Marcoline took his hand and kissed it, while he in his vain exaltation drew her towards him and kissed her on the brow, saying, "Poveretta, you are an angel!"
At this incident, in which there was more love of our neighbour than love of God, we all bit our lips to prevent ourselves bursting out laughing, and the sly little puss pretended to be extremely moved.
I never knew Marcoline's capacities till then, for she confessed that her emotion was wholly fictitious, and designed to win the old man's good graces; and that if she had followed her own inclinations she would have laughed heartily. She was designed to act a part either upon the stage or on a throne. Chance had ordained that she should be born of the people, and her education had been neglected; but if she had been properly tutored she would have been fit for anything.
Before returning home we were warmly invited to dinner the next day.
As we wanted to be together, we did not go to the theatre that day and when we got home I did not wait for Marcoline to undress to cover her with kisses.
"Dear heart," said I, "you have not shewn me all your perfections till now, when we are about to part; you make me regret you are going back to Venice. Today you won all hearts."
"Keep me then, with you, and I will ever be as I have been to-day. By the way, did you see my uncle?" "I think so. Was it not he who was in continual attendance?"
"Yes. I recognized him by his ring. Did he look, at me?"
"All the time, and with an air of the greatest astonishment. I avoided catching his eye, which roved from you to me continually."
"I should like to know what the good man thinks! You will see him again tomorrow. I am sure he will have told M. Querini that, I
am his niece, and consequently not yours. "I expect so, too."
"And if M. Querini says as much to me tomorrow, I, expect I shall have to, admit the fact. What do you think?"
"You must undoubtedly tell him the truth, but frankly and openly, and so as not to let him think that you have need of him to return to Venice. He is not your father, and has no right over your liberty."
"Certainly not."
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"Very good. You must also agree that I am not your uncle, and that the bond between us is, of the most tender description. Will,
there be any difficulty is that?"
"How can you ask me such a question? The link between us makes me feel proud, and will ever do so."
"Well, well, I say no more. I trust entirely in your tact. Remember that Querini and no other must take you back to Venice; he must treat you as if you were his daughter. If he will not consent, you shall not return at all."
"Would to God it were so!"
Early the next morning I got a note from M. Querini requesting me to call on him, as he wanted to speak to me on a matter of importance.
"We are getting on," said Marcoline. "I am very glad that things have taken this turn, for when you come back you can tell me the whole story, and I can regulate my conduct accordingly."
I found Querini and Morosini together. They gave me their hands when I came in, and Querini asked me to sit down, saying that there would be nothing in our discussion which M. Morosini might not hear.
"I have a confidence to make to you, M. Casanova," he began; "but first I want you to do me the same favor."
"I can have no secrets from your excellency."
"I am obliged to you, and will try to deserve your good opinion. I beg that you will tell me sincerely whether you know the young person who is with you, for no one believes that she is your niece."
"It is true that she is--not my niece, but not being acquainted with her relations or family I cannot be said to know her in the sense which your excellency gives to the word. Nevertheless, I am proud to confess that I love her with an affection which will not end save with my life."
"I am delighted to hear you say so. How long have you had her?" "Nearly two months."
"Very good! How did she fall into your hands?"
"That is a point which only concerns her, and you will allow me not to answer that question."
"Good! we will go on. Though you are in love with her, it is very possible that you have never made any enquiries respecting her family."
"She has told me that she has a father and a mother, poor but honest, but I confess I have never been curious enough to enquire her name. I only know her baptismal name, which is possibly not her true one, but it does quite well for me."
"She has given you her true name."
"Your excellency surprises me! You know her, then?"
"Yes; I did not know her yesterday, but I do now. Two months . . . Marcoline . . . yes, it must be she. I am now certain that my man is not mad."
"Your man?"
"Yes, she is his niece. When we were at London he heard that she had left the paternal roof about the middle of Lent. Marcoline's mother, who is his sister, wrote to him. He was afraid to speak to her yesterday, because she looked so grand. He even thought he must be mistaken, and he would have been afraid of offending me by speaking to a grand lady at my table. She must have seen him, too."
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"I don't think so, she has said nothing about it to me."
"It is true that he was standing behind her all the time. But let us come to the point. Is Marcoline your wife, or have you any intention of marrying her?"
"I love her as tenderly as any man can love a woman, but I cannot make her a wife; the reasons are known only to herself and me." "I respect your secret; but tell me if you would object to my begging her to return to Venice with her uncle?"
"I think Marcoline is happy, but if she has succeeded in gaining the favour of your excellency, she is happier still; and I feel sure that if she were to go back to Venice under the exalted patronage of your excellency, she would efface
