Paris and Holland | Page 4

it to them, my friend became an object of
interest.
"I can't believe it," said one of these ladies, ogling the count, while his
face seemed to say,
"Would you like to try?"
Shortly after, a coach stopped at the door, and a fat woman of
middle-aged appearance and a very pretty girl were ushered in; after
them came a pale man in a black suit and a long wig. After greeting
them in a manner which implied intimacy, the Pope's niece introduced
her cousin Count "Six-strokes". The elderly woman seemed to be
astonished at such a name, but the Lambertini gave no explanation.
Nevertheless, people seemed to think it rather curious that a man who

did not know a word of French should be living in Paris, and that in
spite of his ignorance he continued to jabber away in an easy manner,
though nobody could understand what he was talking about.
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."
"Oh, yes! you should; and as you wish to know I will make no mystery
of it. Madame Lambertini took a fancy to him; they passed the night
together, and in token of the satisfaction he gave her she has given him
the ridiculous nickname of 'Count Sixtimes.' That's all. I am vexed
about it, as my friend was no profligate."
Astonishment--and very reasonable astonishment--will be expressed
that I dared to talk in this way to a girl fresh from a convent; but I
should have been astonished myself at the bare idea of any respectable
girl coming to Lambertini's house. I fixed my gaze on my fair
companion, and saw the blush of shame mounting over her pretty face;
but I thought that might have more than one meaning.
Judge of my surprise when, two minutes afterwards, I heard this
question:
"But what has 'Sixtimes' got to do with sleeping with Madame
Lambertini?"
"My dear young lady, the explanation is perfectly simple: my friend in
a single night did what a husband often takes six weeks to do."
"And you think me silly enough to tell my aunt of what we have been
talking? Don't believe it."
"But there's another thing I am sorry about."
"You shall tell me what that is directly."
The reason which obliged the charming niece to retire for a few
minutes may be guessed without our going into explanations. When she
came back she went behind her aunt's chair, her eyes fixed on Tiretta,
and then came up to me, and taking her seat again, said:
"Now, what else is it that you are sorry about?" her eyes sparkling as
she asked the question.

"May I tell you, do you think?"
"You have said so much already, that I don't think you need have any
scruples in telling me the rest."
"Very good: you must know, then, that this very day and in my
presence he---- -her."
"If that displeased you, you must be jealous."
"Possibly, but the fact is that I was humbled by a circumstance I dare
not tell you."
"I think you are