There was a certain reserve about the manner of Mdlle. Toscani, so I
chiefly addressed myself to Madame Vestri, whose husband was not jealous,
for he neither cared for her nor she for him. On the day of my arrival
the manager had distributed the parts of a little play which was to be
given in honour of the duke's arrival. It had been written by a local
author, in hopes of its obtaining the favour of the Court for him.

After supper the little piece was discussed. Madame Vestri played the
principal part, which she was prevailed upon to recite.

"Your elocution is admirable, and your expression full of spirit," I
observed; "but what a pity it is that you do not pronounce the dentals."

The whole table scouted my opinion.

"It's a beauty, not a defect," said they. "It makes her acting soft and
delicate; other actresses envy her the privilege of what you call a
defect."

I made no answer, but looked at Madame Vestri.

"Do you think I am taken in by all that?" said she.

"I think you are much too sensible to believe such nonsense."

"I prefer a man to say honestly, 'what a pity,' than to hear all that
foolish flattery. But I am sorry to say that there is no remedy for the
defect."