"Confess," cried Coeur-Volant, pointing to a table set with delicacies
and flanked by silver wine-coolers, "that I have spared no pains to do
my goddess honour and that this interior must present an agreeable
contrast to the whitewashed cells and dismal refectory of her convent!
No passion," he continued, with his quaint didactic air, "is so
susceptible as love to the influence of its surroundings; and principles
which might have held out against a horse-hair sofa and soupe a l'oignon
have before now been known to succumb to silk cushions and champagne."
He received with perfect good-humour the retort that if he failed in his
designs his cook and his upholsterer would not be to blame; and the
young men were still engaged in such banter when the servant returned to
say that a gondola was at the water-gate. The Marquess hastened out and
presently reappeared with two masked and hooded figures. The first of
these, whom he led by the hand, entered with the air of one not
unaccustomed to her surroundings; but the other hung back, and on the
Marquess's inviting them to unmask, hurriedly signed to her friend to
refuse.
"Very well, fair strangers," said Coeur-Volant with a laugh; "if you
insist on prolonging our suspense we shall avenge ourselves by
prolonging yours, and neither my friend nor I will unmask till you are
pleased to set us the example."
The first lady echoed his laugh. "Shall I own," she cried, "that I
suspect in this unflattering compliance a pretext to conceal your
friend's features from me as long as possible? For my part," she
continued, throwing back her hood, "the mask of hypocrisy I am compelled
to wear in the convent makes me hate every form of disguise, and with
all my defects I prefer to be known as I am.
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