Angela's two companions were sisters- bright, talkative girls who shared her embroidery lessons and, as I soon discovered, all her secrets.
I made their acquaintance, and found that they disapproved of her extreme reserve towards me.
When I happened to meet them alone, I would tell them all my sorrows.
Thinking only of my cruel sweetheart, I never was conceited enough to propose that these young girls might fall in love with me.
I often ventured to speak to them with all the blazing inspiration which was burning in me- a liberty I would not have dared to take in the presence of her whom I loved.
True love always begets reserve; we fear to be accused of exaggeration if we should give utterance to feelings inspired by passion, and the modest lover, in his dread of saying too much, very often says too little.
The old embroidery mistress, an old bigot, soon tired of my devotion. One afternoon she mentioned my visits to Angela's uncle, the Abbé.
He called me aside, and told me kindly. "Giacomo, you ought not to call at the embroidery house so often," he said, "your constant visits might be wrongly construed and may wound my niece's reputation."
His words fell upon me like a thunder-bolt, but I mastered my feelings sufficiently to leave him without incurring any suspicion, and I promised to follow his good advice.
Three days later I returned- ostensibly to visit the old woman.
I scarcely looked at the girls, yet as I bent to take my leave, I slipped a folded note into the elder sister's hand: one for her enclosing another for Angela.
Mine to Angela explained why I had been compelled to discontinue my visits, entreating her to devise some means by which I could enjoy the happiness of seeing her and of conversing with her.
Nanette's only asked her to deliver it and bring me an answer on the day after the morrow.
Two days later she managed it with perfect ease.
Nanette's letter enclosed a very short note from Angela, who, disliking letter-writing, merely advised me to follow, if I could, the plan proposed by her friend.
Here is the copy of the letter written by Nanette, which I have always kept, as well as all other letters which I give in these Memoirs:
"There is nothing in the world, reverend sir, that I would not readily do for my friend. She visits at our house every holiday, has supper with us, and sleeps under our roof.
I will suggest the best way for you to make the acquaintance of Madame Orio, our aunt; but, if you obtain an introduction to her, you must be very careful not to let her suspect your preference for Angela, for our aunt would certainly object to her house being made a place of rendezvous to facilitate your interviews with a stranger to her family.
Now for the plan I propose, and in the execution of which I will give you every assistance in my power.
Madame Orio, although a woman of good station in life, is not wealthy, and she wishes to have her name entered on the list of noble widows who receive the bounties bestowed by the Confraternity of the Holy Sacrament, of which M. de Malipiero is president.
Last Sunday, Angela mentioned that you are in the good graces of that nobleman, and that the best way to obtain his patronage would be to ask you to entreat it in her behalf.
The foolish girl added that you were smitten with me, that all your visits to our mistress of embroidery were made for my special benefit and for the sake of entertaining me, and that I would find it a very easy task to interest you in her favour.
My aunt answered that, as you are a priest, there was no fear of any harm, and she told me to write to you with an invitation to call on her; I refused.
The procurator Rosa, who is a great favourite of my aunt's, was present; he approved of my refusal, saying that the letter ought to be written by her and not by me, that it was for my aunt to beg the honour of your visit on business of real importance, and that, if there was any truth in the report of your love for me, you would not fail to come. My aunt, by his advice, has therefore written the letter which you will find at your house.
If you wish to meet Angela, postpone your visit to us until next Sunday. Should you succeed in obtaining M. de Malipiero's good will in favour of my aunt, you will become the pet of the household, but you must forgive me if I appear to treat you with coolness, for I have said that I do not like you.
I would advise you to make love to my aunt, who is sixty years of age; M. Rosa will not be jealous, and you will become dear to everyone.
For my part, I will manage for you an opportunity for some private conversation with Angela, and I will do anything to convince you of my friendship. Adieu."
This plan appeared to me very well-conceived.
That same evening Madame Orio's letter arrived, inviting me to call.
I went the next day. She received me warmly, entrusted me with her petition, and thanked me for interceding.
I said little to Angela, directed all my gallant attentions to Nanette, who treated me as coolly as could be.
I also made friends with the old procurator Rosa, who, in after years, was of some service to me.
Madame Orio's petition had become my sole occupation; her fortune depended on it, and so, I told myself, did mine.
Knowing how completely the senator adored the actress Thérèse Imer, I decided she was my shortest road to success.
The next morning, I went to her room without being announced.
I found her alone with the physician Doro, who, feigning to be on a professional visit, wrote a prescription, felt her pulse, and went off.
Thérèse flushed. She was not pleased to see me.
She knew that I was aware of the senator's jealousy and of her promise not to receive Doro again. And she had no wish that the old man should hear how she kept her promise.
I thought that no better opportunity could be found of obtaining from her everything I wished.
I bowed as if I had noticed nothing.
"I come on business," I said, "and you could rely upon my discretion, as I would not for the world do you any injury."
Her eyes searched mine, then softened. "If that is so," she said, "I am glad to find an occasion to oblige you."
I explained Madame Orio's case, laid the papers before her. She listened, thoughtful, then opened a drawer and showed me another set of documents- recommendations for a different widow whose cause she had promised to advance.
"I'll sacrifice this one," she said lightly, "to yours."
She kept her word.
The next day she handed me the brevet signed by the senator himself. Madame Orio's name was put down to share the bounties which were distributed twice a year.
Madame Orio lived modestly in her own house with her two charming nieces, Nanette and Marton.
The old procurator Rosa, her only friend and would-be husband, hovered around the household waiting for his wife to die to marry her.
The two sisters slept together on the third floor in a large bed, which was likewise shared by Angela every Sunday.
With the document secure, I hurried to the embroidery mistress to pass word to Nanette.
In a short note I informed her that in two days I would call to give the brevet to Madame Orio, and I begged her earnestly not to forget her promise to contrive a private interview with my dear Angela.
When I reached Madame Orio's door, Nanette was already watching from the window.
As I crossed the threshold, she slipped a folded note into my hand.
"Find a moment to read it before leaving the house." She whispered.
Inside, I found Madame Orio, Angela, the old procurator, and Marton in the room.
My fingers burned to open the note, so I stayed standing.
I gave the widow the deed she had been waiting for and bowed. "My only reward, madame, is the honor of kissing your hand."
"Oh, my dear abbe!" said the lady, "you shall have a kiss, but not on my hand, and no one can object to it, as I am thirty years older than you."
She might have said forty-five without going much astray, but I obeyed gallantly, adding a second kiss to seal her triumph.
Pleased, she desired me to perform the same ceremony with her nieces, but they both ran away, and Angela alone stood the brunt of my hardihood.
After this the widow asked me to sit down.
"I cannot, Madame."
"Why, I beg?"
"I have--."
"I understand. Nanette, show the way."
"Dear aunt, excuse me."
"Well, then, Marton."
"Oh! dear aunt, why do you not insist upon my sister obeying your orders?"
"Alas! madame, these young ladies are quite right. Allow me to retire."
"No, my dear abbe, my nieces are very foolish; M. Rosa, I am sure, will kindly."
The good procurator takes me affectionately by the hand, and leads me to the third story, where he leaves me.
The moment I am alone I open my letter, and I read the following:
"My aunt will invite you to supper; do not accept. Go away as soon as we sit down to table, and Marton will escort you as far as the street door, but do not leave the house. When the street door is closed again, everyone thinking you are gone, go upstairs in the dark as far as the third floor, where you must wait for us. We will come up the moment M. Rosa has left the house, and our aunt has gone to bed. Angela will be at liberty to grant you throughout the night a tete-a-tete which, I trust, will prove a happy one."
Oh! what joy-what gratitude for the lucky chance which allowed me to read this letter on the very spot where I was to expect the dear object of my love!
Certain of finding my way without the slightest difficulty, I returned to Madame Orio's sitting-room, overwhelmed with happiness.