"Quite an elegant compliment, and worthy of an accomplished lady-killer! _Allons_! you are a promising scholar." "In all that I have dared to say, Madame, I am, at least, sincere," I added, abashed by the kind of praise.
"Sincere?
Of course you are sincere.

Who ever doubted it?
Nay, to blush like that is enough to spoil the finest compliment in the world.
There--it is three o'clock, and at half-past I have an engagement, for which I must now make my _toilette_.

Come to-morrow evening to my box at the _Italiens_, and so adieu.

Stay--being my _cavaliere_, I permit you, at parting, to kiss my hand." Trembling, breathless, scarcely daring to touch it with mine, I lifted the soft little hand to my lips, stammered something which was, no doubt, sufficiently foolish, and hurried away, as if I were treading on air and breathing sunshine.
All the rest of that day went by in a kind of agreeable delirium.

I walked about, almost without knowledge where I went.