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She was
much more intelligent than during our first drive on Tuesday.
The streets have grown more familiar, and the traffic does not
make her head ache. She asks me the ingenuous questions of a
child of ten. The tall guardsmen we passed particularly aroused
her enthusiasm. She had never seen anything so beautiful. I
asked her if she would like me to buy one and give it her to play
with.
"Oh, would you, Seer Marcous?" she exclaimed, seizing my hand
rapturously. I verily believe she thought I was in earnest, for
when I turned aside my jest, she pouted in disappointment and
declared that it was wrong to tell lies.
"I am glad you have some elementary notions of ethics," said I.
It was during our drive that it occurred to me to ask her where
she had procured the paint and earrings. She explained,
cheerfully, that Antoinette had supplied the funds. I must talk
seriously to Antoinette. Her attitude towards Carlotta savours
too much of idolatry. Demoralisation will soon set in, and the
utter ruin of Carlotta and my digestion will be the result.


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