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diff --git a/old/13218-8.txt b/old/13218-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..02fb47a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/13218-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,17609 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Orsino, by F. Marion Crawford + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Don Orsino + +Author: F. Marion Crawford + +Release Date: August 19, 2004 [EBook #13218] +[Last updated: December 22, 2015] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DON ORSINO *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +DON ORSINO + + +BY + +F. MARION CRAWFORD + +AUTHOR OF "THE THREE FATES," "ZOROASTER," "DR. CLAUDIUS," "SARACINESCA," +ETC. + + +NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS + +1891, MACMILLAN AND CO. + +Reprinted January, April, December, 1893; June, 1894; January, November, +1895; June, 1896, January, 1898, June, 1899; July, 1901 June, 1903; +June, 1905; January, 1907. + + +_Fifty-sixth Thousand_ + + +Norwood Press J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Norwood Mass. U.S.A. + + + + +DON ORSINO. + +CHAPTER I. + + +Don Orsino Saracinesca is of the younger age and lives in the younger +Rome, with his father and mother, under the roof of the vast old palace +which has sheltered so many hundreds of Saracinesca in peace and war, +but which has rarely in the course of the centuries been the home of +three generations at once during one and twenty years. + +The lover of romance may lie in the sun, caring not for the time of day +and content to watch the butterflies that cross his blue sky on the way +from one flower to another. But the historian is an entomologist who +must be stirring. He must catch the moths, which are his facts, in the +net which is his memory, and he must fasten them upon his paper with +sharp pins, which are dates. + +By far the greater number of old Prince Saracinesca's contemporaries are +dead, and more or less justly forgotten. Old Valdarno died long ago in +his bed, surrounded by sons and daughters. The famous dandy of other +days, the Duke of Astrardente, died at his young wife's feet some three +and twenty years before this chapter of family history opens. Then the +primeval Prince Montevarchi came to a violent end at the hands of his +librarian, leaving his English princess consolable but unconsoled, +leaving also his daughter Flavia married to that other Giovanni +Saracinesca who still bears the name of Marchese di San Giacinto; while +the younger girl, the fair, brown-eyed Faustina, loved a poor +Frenchman, half soldier and all artist. The weak, good-natured Ascanio +Bellegra reigns in his father's stead, the timidly extravagant master of +all that wealth which the miser's lean and crooked fingers had consigned +to a safe keeping. Frangipani too, whose son was to have married +Faustina, is gone these many years, and others of the older and graver +sort have learned the great secret from the lips of death. + +But there have been other and greater deaths, beside which the mortality +of a whole society of noblemen sinks into insignificance. An empire is +dead and another has arisen in the din of a vast war, begotten in +bloodshed, brought forth in strife, baptized with fire. The France we +knew is gone, and the French Republic writes "Liberty, Fraternity, +Equality" in great red letters above the gate of its habitation, which +within is yet hung with mourning. Out of the nest of kings and princes +and princelings, and of all manner of rulers great and small, rises the +solitary eagle of the new German Empire and hangs on black wings between +sky and earth, not striking again, but always ready, a vision of armed +peace, a terror, a problem--perhaps a warning. + +Old Rome is dead, too, never to be old Rome again. The last breath has +been breathed, the aged eyes are closed for ever, corruption has done +its work, and the grand skeleton lies bleaching upon seven hills, half +covered with the piecemeal stucco of a modern architectural body. The +result is satisfactory to those who have brought it about, if not to the +rest of the world. The sepulchre of old Rome is the new capital of +united Italy. + +The three chief actors are dead also--the man of heart, the man of +action and the man of wit, the good, the brave and, the cunning, the +Pope, the King and the Cardinal--Pius the Ninth, Victor Emmanuel the +Second, Giacomo Antonelli. Rome saw them all dead. + +In a poor chamber of the Vatican, upon a simple bed, beside which burned +two waxen torches in the cold morning light, lay the body of the man +whom none had loved and many had feared, clothed in the violet robe of +the cardinal-deacon. The keen face was drawn up on one side with a +strange look of mingled pity and contempt. The delicate, thin hands were +clasped together on the breast. The chilly light fell upon the dead +features, the silken robe and the stone floor. A single servant in a +shabby livery stood in a corner, smiling foolishly, while the tears +stood in his eyes and wet his unshaven cheeks. Perhaps he cared, as +servants will, when no one else cares. The door opened almost directly +upon a staircase and the noise of the feet of those passing up and down +upon the stone steps disturbed the silence in the death chamber. At +night the poor body was thrust unhonoured into a common coach and driven +out to its resting-place. + +In a vast hall, upon an enormous catafalque, full thirty feet above the +floor, lay all that was left of the honest king. Thousands of wax +candles cast their light up to the dark, shapeless face, and upon the +military accoutrements of the uniform in which the huge body was +clothed. A great crowd pressed to the railing to gaze their fill and go +away. Behind the division tall troopers in cuirasses mounted guard and +moved carelessly about. It was all tawdry, but tawdry on a magnificent +scale--all unlike the man in whose honour it was done. For he had been +simple and brave. + +When he was at last borne to his tomb in the Pantheon, a file of +imperial and royal princes marched shoulder to shoulder down the street +before him, and the black charger he had loved was led after him. + +In a dim chapel of St. Peter's lay the Pope, robed in white, the +jewelled tiara upon his head, his white face calm and peaceful. Six +torches burned beside him; six nobles of the guard stood like statues +with drawn swords, three on his right hand and three on his left. That +was all. The crowd passed in single file before the great closed gates +of the Julian Chapel. + +At night he was borne reverently by loving hands to the deep crypt +below. But at another time, at night also, the dead man was taken up +and driven towards the gate to be buried without the walls. Then a great +crowd assembled in the darkness and fell upon the little band and stoned +the coffin of him who never harmed any man, and screamed out curses and +blasphemies till all the city was astir with riot. That was the last +funeral hymn. + +Old Rome is gone. The narrow streets are broad thoroughfares, the Jews' +quarter is a flat and dusty building lot, the fountain of Ponte Sisto is +swept away, one by one the mighty pines of Villa Ludovisi have fallen +under axe and saw, and a cheap, thinly inhabited quarter is built upon +the site of the enchanted garden. The network of by-ways from the +Jesuits' church to the Sant' Angelo bridge is ploughed up and opened by +the huge Corso Vittorio Emmanuele. Buildings which strangers used to +search for in the shade, guide-book and map in hand, are suddenly +brought into the blaze of light that fills broad streets and sweeps +across great squares. The vast Cancelleria stands out nobly to the sun, +the curved front of the Massimo palace exposes its black colonnade to +sight upon the greatest thoroughfare of the new city, the ancient Arco +de' Cenci exhibits its squalor in unshadowed sunshine, the Portico of +Octavia once more looks upon the river. + +He who was born and bred in the Rome of twenty years ago comes back +after a long absence to wander as a stranger in streets he never knew, +among houses unfamiliar to him, amidst a population whose speech sounds +strange in his ears. He roams the city from the Lateran to the Tiber, +from the Tiber to the Vatican, finding himself now and then before some +building once familiar in another aspect, losing himself perpetually in +unprofitable wastes made more monotonous than the sandy desert by the +modern builder's art. Where once he lingered in old days to glance at +the river, or to dream of days yet older and long gone, scarce +conscious of the beggar at his elbow and hardly seeing the half dozen +workmen who laboured at their trades almost in the middle of the public +way--where all was once aged and silent and melancholy and full of the +elder memories--there, at that very corner, he is hustled and jostled by +an eager crowd, thrust to the wall by huge, grinding, creaking carts, +threatened with the modern death by the wheel of the modern omnibus, +deafened by the yells of the modern newsvendors, robbed, very likely, by +the light fingers of the modern inhabitant. + +And yet he feels that Rome must be Rome still. He stands aloof and gazes +at the sight as upon a play in which Rome herself is the great heroine +and actress. He knows the woman and he sees the artist for the first +time, not recognising her. She is a dark-eyed, black-haired, thoughtful +woman when not upon the stage. How should he know her in the strange +disguise, her head decked with Gretchen's fair tresses, her olive cheek +daubed with pink and white paint, her stately form clothed in garments +that would be gay and girlish but which are only unbecoming? He would +gladly go out and wait by the stage door until the performance is over, +to see the real woman pass him in the dim light of the street lamps as +she enters her carriage and becomes herself again. And so, in the +reality, he turns his back upon the crowd and strolls away, not caring +whither he goes until, by a mere accident, he finds himself upon the +height of Sant' Onofrio, or standing before the great fountains of the +Acqua Paola, or perhaps upon the drive which leads through the old Villa +Corsini along the crest of the Janiculum. Then, indeed, the scene thus +changes, the actress is gone and the woman is before him; the capital of +modern Italy sinks like a vision into the earth out of which it was +called up, and the capital of the world rises once more, unchanged, +unchanging and unchangeable, before the wanderer's eyes. The greater +monuments of greater times are there still, majestic and unmoved, the +larger signs of a larger age stand out clear and sharp; the tomb of +Hadrian frowns on the yellow stream, the heavy hemisphere of the +Pantheon turns its single opening to the sky, the enormous dome of the +world's cathedral looks silently down upon the sepulchre of the world's +masters. + +Then the sun sets and the wanderer goes down again through the chilly +evening air to the city below, to find it less modern than he had +thought. He has found what he sought and he knows that the real will +outlast the false, that the stone will outlive the stucco and that the +builder of to-day is but a builder of card-houses beside the architects +who made Rome. + +So his heart softens a little, or at least grows less resentful, for he +has realised how small the change really is as compared with the first +effect produced. The great house has fallen into new hands and the +latest tenant is furnishing the dwelling to his taste. That is all. He +will not tear down the walls, for his hands are too feeble to build them +again, even if he were not occupied with other matters and hampered by +the disagreeable consciousness of the extravagances he has already +committed. + +Other things have been accomplished, some of which may perhaps endure, +and some of which are good in themselves, while some are indifferent and +some distinctly bad. The great experiment of Italian unity is in process +of trial and the world is already forming its opinion upon the results. +Society, heedless as it necessarily is of contemporary history, could +not remain indifferent to the transformation of its accustomed +surroundings; and here, before entering upon an account of individual +doings, the chronicler may be allowed to say a few words upon a matter +little understood by foreigners, even when they have spent several +seasons in Rome and have made acquaintance with each other for the +purpose of criticising the Romans. + +Immediately after the taking of the city in 1870, three distinct +parties declared themselves, to wit, the Clericals or Blacks, the +Monarchists or Whites, and the Republicans or Beds. All three had +doubtless existed for a considerable time, but the wine of revolution +favoured the expression of the truth, and society awoke one morning to +find itself divided into camps holding very different opinions. + +At first the mass of the greater nobles stood together for the lost +temporal power of the Pope, while a great number of the less important +families followed two or three great houses in siding with the +Royalists. The Republican idea, as was natural, found but few +sympathisers in the highest class, and these were, I believe, in all +cases young men whose fathers were Blacks or Whites, and most of whom +have since thought fit to modify their opinions in one direction or the +other. Nevertheless the Red interest was, and still is, tolerably strong +and has been destined to play that powerful part in parliamentary life, +which generally falls to the lot of a compact third party, where a +fourth does not yet exist, or has no political influence, as is the case +in Rome. + +For there is a fourth body in Rome, which has little political but much +social importance. It was not possible that people who had grown up +together in the intimacy of a close caste-life, calling each other +"thee" and "thou," and forming the hereditary elements of a still feudal +organisation, should suddenly break off all acquaintance and be +strangers one to another. The brother, a born and convinced clerical, +found that his own sister had followed her husband to the court of the +new King. The rigid adherent of the old order met his own son in the +street, arrayed in the garb of an Italian officer. The two friends who +had stood side by side in good and evil case for a score of years saw +themselves suddenly divided by the gulf which lies between a Roman +cardinal and a Senator of the Italian Kingdom. The breach was sudden and +great, but it was bridged for many by the invention of a fourth, +proportional. The points of contact between White and Black became Grey, +and a social power, politically neutral and constitutionally +indifferent, arose as a mediator between the Contents and the +Malcontents. There were families that had never loved the old order but +which distinctly disliked the new, and who opened their doors to the +adherents of both. There is a house which has become Grey out of a sort +of superstition inspired by the unfortunate circumstances which oddly +coincided with each movement of its members to join the new order. There +is another, and one of the greatest, in which a very high hereditary +dignity in the one party, still exercised by force of circumstances, +effectually forbids the expression of a sincere sympathy with the +opposed power. Another there is, whose members are cousins of the one +sovereign and personal friends of the other. + +A further means of amalgamation has been found in the existence of the +double embassies of the great powers. Austria, France and Spain each +send an Ambassador to the King of Italy and an Ambassador to the Pope, +of like state and importance. Even Protestant Prussia maintains a +Minister Plenipotentiary to the Holy See. Russia has her diplomatic +agent to the Vatican, and several of the smaller powers keep up two +distinct legations. It is naturally neither possible nor intended that +these diplomatists should never meet on friendly terms, though they are +strictly interdicted from issuing official invitations to each other. +Their point of contact is another grey square on the chess-board. + +The foreigner, too, is generally a neutral individual, for if his +political convictions lean towards the wrong side of the Tiber his +social tastes incline to Court balls; or if he is an admirer of Italian +institutions, his curiosity may yet lead him to seek a presentation at +the Vatican, and his inexplicable though recent love of feudal princedom +may take him, card-case in hand, to that great stronghold of Vaticanism +which lies due west of the Piazza di Venezia and due north of the +Capitol. + +During the early years which followed the change, the attitude of +society in Rome was that of protest and indignation on the one hand, of +enthusiasm and rather brutally expressed triumph on the other. The line +was very clearly drawn, for the adherence was of the nature of personal +loyalty on both sides. Eight years and a half later the personal feeling +disappeared with the almost simultaneous death of Pius IX. and Victor +Emmanuel II. From that time the great strife degenerated by degrees into +a difference of opinion. It may perhaps be said also that both parties +became aware of their common enemy, the social democrat, soon after the +disappearance of the popular King whose great individual influence was +of more value to the cause of a united monarchy than all the political +clubs and organisations in Italy put together. He was a strong man. He +only once, I think, yielded to the pressure of a popular excitement, +namely, in the matter of seizing Rome when the French troops were +withdrawn, thereby violating a ratified Treaty. But his position was a +hard one. He regretted the apparent necessity, and to the day of his +death he never would sleep under the roof of Pius the Ninth's Palace on +the Quirinal, but had his private apartments in an adjoining building. +He was brave and generous. Such faults as he had were no burden to the +nation and concerned himself alone. The same praise may be worthily +bestowed upon his successor, but the personal influence is no longer the +same, any more than that of Leo XIII. can be compared with that of Pius +IX., though all the world is aware of the present Pope's intellectual +superiority and lofty moral principle. + +Let us try to be just. The unification of Italy has been the result of a +noble conception. The execution of the scheme has not been without +faults, and some of these faults have brought about deplorable, even +disastrous, consequences, such as to endanger the stability of the new +order. The worst of these attendant errors has been the sudden +imposition of a most superficial and vicious culture, under the name of +enlightenment and education. The least of the new Government's mistakes +has been a squandering of the public money, which, when considered with +reference to the country's resources, has perhaps no parallel in the +history of nations. + +Yet the first idea was large, patriotic, even grand. The men who first +steered the ship of the state were honourable, disinterested, +devoted--men like Minghetti, who will not soon be forgotten--loyal, +conservative monarchists, whose thoughts were free from exaggeration, +save that they believed almost too blindly in the power of a +constitution to build up a kingdom, and credited their fellows almost +too readily with a purpose as pure and blameless as their own. Can more +be said for these? I think not. They rest in honourable graves, their +doings live in honoured remembrance--would that there had been such +another generation to succeed them. + +And having said thus much, let us return to the individuals who have +played a part in the history of the Saracinesca. They have grown older, +some gracefully, some under protest, some most unbecomingly. + +In the end of the year 1887 old Leone Saracinesca is still alive, being +eighty-two years of age. His massive head has sunk a little between his +slightly rounded shoulders, and his white beard is no longer cut short +and square, but flows majestically down upon his broad breast. His step +is slow, but firm still, and when he looks up suddenly from under his +wrinkled lids, the fire is not even yet all gone from his eyes. He is +still contradictory by nature, but he has mellowed like rare wine in the +long years of prosperity and peace. When the change came in Rome he was +in the mountains at Saracinesca, with his daughter-in-law, Corona and +her children. His son Giovanni, generally known as Prince of Sant' +Ilario, was among the volunteers at the last and sat for half a day upon +his horse in the Pincio, listening to the bullets that sang over his +head while his men fired stray shots from the parapets of the public +garden into the road below. Giovanni is fifty-two years old, but though +his hair is grey at the temples and his figure a trifle sturdier and +broader than of old, he is little changed. His son, Orsino, who will +soon be of age, overtops him by a head and shoulders, a dark youth, +slender still, but strong and active, the chief person in this portion +of my chronicle. Orsino has three brothers of ranging ages, of whom the +youngest is scarcely twelve years old. Not one girl child has been given +to Giovanni and Corona and they almost wish that one of the sturdy +little lads had been a daughter. But old Saracinesca laughs and shakes +his head and says he will not die till his four grandsons are strong +enough to bear him to his grave upon their shoulders. + +Corona is still beautiful, still dark, still magnificent, though she has +reached the age beyond which no woman ever goes until after death. There +are few lines in the noble face and such as are there are not the scars +of heart wounds. Her life, too, has been peaceful and undisturbed by +great events these many years. There is, indeed, one perpetual anxiety +in her existence, for the old prince is an aged man and she loves him +dearly. The tough strength must give way some day and there will be a +great mourning in the house of Saracinesca, nor will any mourn the dead +more sincerely than Corona. And there is a shade of bitterness in the +knowledge that her marvellous beauty is waning. Can she be blamed for +that? She has been beautiful so long. What woman who has been first for +a quarter of a century can give up her place without a sigh? But much +has been given to her to soften the years of transition, and she knows +that also, when she looks from her husband to her four boys. + +Then, too, it seems more easy to grow old when she catches a glimpse +from time to time of Donna Tullia Del Ferice, who wears her years +ungracefully, and who was once so near to becoming Giovanni +Saracinesca's wife. Donna Tullia is fat and fiery of complexion, +uneasily vivacious and unsure of herself. Her disagreeable blue eyes +have not softened, nor has the metallic tone of her voice lost its +sharpness. Yet she should not be a disappointed woman, for Del Ferice is +a power in the land, a member of parliament, a financier and a +successful schemer, whose doors are besieged by parasites and his +dinner-table by those who wear fine raiment and dwell in kings' palaces. +Del Ferice is the central figure in the great building syndicates which +in 1887 are at the height of their power. He juggles with millions of +money, with miles of real estate, with thousands of workmen. He is +director of a bank, president of a political club, chairman of half a +dozen companies and a deputy in the chambers. But his face is +unnaturally pale, his body is over-corpulent, and he has trouble with +his heart. The Del Ferice couple are childless, to their own great +satisfaction. + +Anastase Gouache, the great painter, is also in Rome. Sixteen years ago +he married the love of his life, Faustina Montevarchi, in spite of the +strong opposition of her family. But times had changed. A new law +existed and the thrice repeated formal request for consent made by +Faustina to her mother, freed her from parental authority and brotherly +interference. She and her husband passed through some very lean years in +the beginning, but fortune has smiled upon them since that. Anastase is +very famous. His character has changed little. With the love of the +ideal republic in his heart, he shed his blood at Mentana for the great +conservative principle, he fired his last shot for the same cause at the +Porta Pia on the twentieth of September 1870; a month later he was +fighting for France under the gallant Charette--whether for France +imperial, regal or republican he never paused to ask; he was wounded in +fighting against the Commune, and decorated for painting the portrait of +Gambetta, after which he returned to Rome, cursed politics and married +the woman he loved, which was, on the whole, the wisest course he could +have followed. He has two children, both girls, aged now respectively +fifteen and thirteen. His virtues are many, but they do not include +economy. Though his savings are small and he depends upon his brush, he +lives in one wing of an historic palace and gives dinners which are +famous. He proposes to reform and become a miser when his daughters are +married. + +"Misery will be the foundation of my second manner, my angel," he says +to his wife, when he has done something unusually extravagant. + +But Faustina laughs softly and winds her arm about his neck as they look +together at the last great picture. Anastase has not grown fat. The gods +love him and have promised him eternal youth. He can still buckle round +his slim waist the military belt of twenty years ago, and there is +scarcely one white thread in his black hair. + +San Giacinto, the other Saracinesca, who married Faustina's elder sister +Flavia, is in process of making a great fortune, greater perhaps than +the one so nearly thrust upon him by old Montevarchi's compact with +Meschini the librarian and forger. He had scarcely troubled himself to +conceal his opinions before the change of government, being by nature a +calm, fearless man, and under the new order he unhesitatingly sided with +the Italians, to the great satisfaction of Flavia, who foresaw years of +dulness for the mourning party of the Blacks. He had already brought to +Rome the two boys who remained to him from his first marriage with +Serafina Baldi--the little girl who had been born between the other two +children had died in infancy--and the lads had been educated at a +military college, and in 1887 are both officers in the Italian cavalry, +sturdy and somewhat thick-skulled patriots, but gentlemen nevertheless +in spite of the peasant blood. They are tall fellows enough but neither +of them has inherited the father's colossal stature, and San Giacinto +looks with a very little envy on his young kinsman Orsino who has +outgrown his cousins. This second marriage has brought him issue, a boy +and a girl, and the fact that he has now four children to provide for +has had much to do with his activity in affairs. He was among the first +to see that an enormous fortune was to be made in the first rush for +land in the city, and he realised all he possessed, and borrowed to the +full extent of his credit to pay the first instalments on the land he +bought, risking everything with the calm determination and cool judgment +which lay at the root of his strong character. He was immensely +successful, but though he had been bold to recklessness at the right +moment, he saw the great crash looming in the near future, and when the +many were frantic to buy and invest, no matter at what loss, his +millions were in part safely deposited in national bonds, and in part as +securely invested in solid and profitable buildings of which the rents +are little liable to fluctuation. Brought up to know what money means, +he is not easily carried away by enthusiastic reports. He knows that +when the hour of fortune is at hand no price is too great to pay for +ready capital, but he understands that when the great rush for success +begins the psychological moment of finance is already passed. When he +dies, if such strength as his can yield to death, he will die the +richest man in Italy, and he will leave what is rare in Italian finance, +a stainless name. + +Of one person more I must speak, who has played a part in this family +history. The melancholy Spicca still lives his lonely life in the midst +of the social world. He affects to be a little old-fashioned in his +dress. His tall thin body stoops ominously and his cadaverous face is +more grave and ascetic than ever. He is said to have been suffering from +a mortal disease these fifteen years, but still he goes everywhere, +reads everything and knows every one. He is between sixty and seventy +years old, but no one knows his precise age. The foils he once used so +well hang untouched and rusty above his fireplace, but his reputation +survives the lost strength of his supple wrist, and there are few in +Rome, brave men or hairbrained youths, who would willingly anger him +even now. He is still the great duellist of his day; the emaciated +fingers might still find their old grip upon a sword hilt, the long, +listless arm might perhaps once more shoot out with lightning speed, the +dull eye might once again light up at the clash of steel. Peaceable, +charitable when none are at hand to see him give, gravely gentle now in +manner, Count Spicca is thought dangerous still. But he is indeed very +lonely in his old age, and if the truth be told his fortune seems to +have suffered sadly of late years, so that he rarely leaves Rome, even +in the hot summer, and it is very long since he spent six weeks in Paris +or risked a handful of gold at Monte Carlo. Yet his life is not over, +and he has still a part to play, for his own sake and for the sake of +another, as shall soon appear more clearly. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Orsino Saracinesca's education was almost completed. It had been of the +modern kind, for his father had early recognised that it would be a +disadvantage to the young man in after life if he did not follow the +course of study and pass the examinations required of every Italian +subject who wishes to hold office in his own country. Accordingly, +though he had not been sent to public schools, Orsino had been regularly +entered since his childhood for the public examinations and had passed +them all in due order, with great difficulty and indifferent credit. +After this preliminary work he had been at an English University for +four terms, not with any view to his obtaining a degree after completing +the necessary residence, but in order that he might perfect himself in +the English language, associate with young men of his own age and +social standing, though of different nationality, and acquire that final +polish which is so highly valued in the human furniture of society's +temples. + +Orsino was not more highly gifted as to intelligence than many young men +of his age and class. Like many of them he spoke English admirably, +French tolerably, and Italian with a somewhat Roman twang. He had +learned a little German and was rapidly forgetting it again; Latin and +Greek had been exhibited to him as dead languages, and he felt no more +inclination to assist in their resurrection than is felt by most boys in +our day. He had been taught geography in the practical, continental +manner, by being obliged to draw maps from memory. He had been +instructed in history, not by parallels, but as it were by tangents, a +method productive of odd results, and he had advanced just far enough in +the study of mathematics to be thoroughly confused by the terms +"differentiation" and "integration." Besides these subjects, a multitude +of moral and natural sciences had been made to pass in a sort of +panorama before his intellectual vision, including physics, chemistry, +logic, rhetoric, ethics and political economy, with a view to +cultivating in him the spirit of the age. The Ministry of Public +Instruction having decreed that the name of God shall be for ever +eliminated from all modern books in use in Italian schools and +universities, Orsino's religious instruction had been imparted at home +and had at least the advantage of being homogeneous. + +It must not be supposed that Orsino's father and mother were satisfied +with this sort of education. But it was not easy to foresee what social +and political changes might come about before the boy reached mature +manhood. Neither Giovanni nor his wife were of the absolutely +"intransigent" way of thinking. They saw no imperative reason to prevent +their sons from joining at some future time in the public life of their +country, though they themselves preferred not to associate with the +party at present in power. Moreover Giovanni Saracinesca saw that the +abolition of primogeniture had put an end to hereditary idleness, and +that although his sons would be rich enough to do nothing if they +pleased, yet his grandchildren would probably have to choose between +work and genteel poverty, if it pleased the fates to multiply the race. +He could indeed leave one half of his wealth intact to Orsino, but the +law required that the other half should be equally divided among all; +and as the same thing would take place in the second generation, unless +a reactionary revolution intervened, the property would before long be +divided into very small moieties indeed. For Giovanni had no idea of +imposing celibacy upon his younger sons, still less of exerting any +influence he possessed to make them enter the Church. He was too broad +in his views for that. They promised to turn out as good men in a +struggle as the majority of those who would be opposed to them in life, +and they should fight their own battles unhampered by parental authority +or caste prejudice. + +Many years earlier Giovanni had expressed his convictions in regard to +the change of order then imminent. He had said that he would fight as +long as there was anything to fight for, but that if the change came he +would make the best of it. He was now keeping his word. He had fought as +far as fighting had been possible and had sincerely wished that his +warlike career might have offered more excitement and opportunity for +personal distinction than had been afforded him in spending an afternoon +on horseback, listening to the singing of bullets overhead. His amateur +soldiering was over long ago, but he was strong, brave and intelligent, +and if he had been convinced that a second and more radical revolution +could accomplish any good result, he would have been capable of devoting +himself to its cause with a single-heartedness not usual in these days. +But he was not convinced. He therefore lived a quiet life, making the +best of the present, improving his lands and doing his best to bring up +his sons in such a way as to give them a chance of success when the +struggle should come. Orsino was his eldest born and the results of +modern education became apparent in him first, as was inevitable. + +Orsino was at this time not quite twenty-one years of age, but the +important day was not far distant and in order to leave a lasting +memorial of the attaining of his majority Prince Saracinesca had decreed +that Corona should receive a portrait of her eldest son executed by the +celebrated Anastase Gouache. To this end the young man spent three +mornings in every week in the artist's palatial studio, a place about as +different from the latter's first den in the Via San Basilio as the +Basilica of Saint Peter is different from a roadside chapel in the +Abruzzi. Those who have seen the successful painter of the nineteenth +century in his glory will have less difficulty in imagining the scene of +Gouache's labours than the writer finds in describing it. The workroom +is a hall, the ceiling is a vault thirty feet high, the pavement is of +polished marble; the light enters by north windows which would not look +small in a good-sized church, the doors would admit a carriage and pair, +the tapestries upon the walls would cover the front of a modern house. +Everything is on a grand scale, of the best period, of the most genuine +description. Three or four originals of great masters, of Titian, of +Reubens, of Van Dyck, stand on huge easels in the most favourable +lights. Some scores of matchless antique fragments, both of bronze and +marble, are placed here and there upon superb carved tables and shelves +of the sixteenth century. The only reproduction visible in the place is +a very perfect cast of the Hermes of Olympia. The carpets are all of +Shiraz, Sinna, Gjordez or old Baku--no common thing of Smyrna, no +unclean aniline production of Russo-Asiatic commerce disturbs the +universal harmony. In a full light upon the wall hangs a single silk +carpet of wonderful tints, famous in the history of Eastern collections, +and upon it is set at a slanting angle a single priceless Damascus +blade--a sword to possess which an Arab or a Circassian would commit +countless crimes. Anastase Gouache is magnificent in all his tastes and +in all his ways. His studio and his dwelling are his only estate, his +only capital, his only wealth, and he does not take the trouble to +conceal the fact. The very idea of a fixed income is as distasteful to +him as the possibility of possessing it is distant and visionary. There +is always money in abundance, money for Faustina's horses and carriages, +money for Gouache's select dinners, money for the expensive fancies of +both. The paint pot is the mine, the brush is the miner's pick, and the +vein has never failed, nor the hand trembled in working it. A golden +youth, a golden river flowing softly to the red gold sunset of the +end--that is life as it seems to Anastase and Faustina. + +On the morning which opens this chronicle, Anastase was standing before +his canvas, palette and brushes in hand, considering the nature of the +human face in general and of young Orsino's face in particular. + +"I have known your father and mother for centuries," observed the +painter with a fine disregard of human limitations. "Your father is the +brown type of a dark man, and your mother is the olive type of a dark +woman. They are no more alike than a Red Indian and an Arab, but you are +like both. Are you brown or are you olive, my friend? That is the +question. I would like to see you angry, or in love, or losing at play. +Those things bring out the real complexion." + +Orsino laughed and showed a remarkably solid set of teeth. But he did +not find anything to say. + +"I would like to know the truth about your complexion," said Anastase, +meditatively. + +"I have no particular reason for being angry," answered Orsino, "and I +am not in love--" + +"At your age! Is it possible!" + +"Quite. But I will play cards with you if you like," concluded the young +man. + +"No," returned the other. "It would be of no use. You would win, and if +you happened to win much, I should be in a diabolical scrape. But I wish +you would fall in love. You should see how I would handle the green +shadows under your eyes." + +"It is rather short notice." + +"The shorter the better. I used to think that the only real happiness in +life lay in getting into trouble, and the only real interest in getting +out." + +"And have you changed your mind?" + +"I? No. My mind has changed me. It is astonishing how a man may love his +wife under favourable circumstances." + +Anastase laid down his brushes and lit a cigarette. Reubens would have +sipped a few drops of Rhenish from a Venetian glass. Teniers would have +lit a clay pipe. Dürer would perhaps have swallowed a pint of Nüremberg +beer, and Greuse or Mignard would have resorted to their snuff-boxes. We +do not know what Michelangelo or Perugino did under the circumstances, +but it is tolerably evident that the man of the nineteenth century +cannot think without talking and cannot talk without cigarettes. +Therefore Anastase began to smoke and Orsino, being young and imitative, +followed his example. + +"You have been an exceptionally fortunate man," remarked the latter, who +was not old enough to be anything but cynical in his views of life. + +"Do you think so? Yes--I have been fortunate. But I do not like to think +that my happiness has been so very exceptional. The world is a good +place, full of happy people. It must be--otherwise purgatory and hell +would be useless institutions." + +"You do not suppose all people to be good as well as happy then," said +Orsino with a laugh. + +"Good? What is goodness, my friend? One half of the theologians tell us +that we shall be happy if we are good and the other half assure us that +the only way to be good is to abjure earthly happiness. If you will +believe me, you will never commit the supreme error of choosing between +the two methods. Take the world as it is, and do not ask too many +questions of the fates. If you are willing to be happy, happiness will +come in its own shape." + +Orsino's young face expressed rather contemptuous amusement. At twenty, +happiness is a dull word, and satisfaction spells excitement. + +"That is the way people talk," he said. "You have got everything by +fighting for it, and you advise me to sit still till the fruit drops +into my mouth." + +"I was obliged to fight. Everything comes to you naturally--fortune, +rank--everything, including marriage. Why should you lift a hand?" + +"A man cannot possibly be happy who marries before he is thirty years +old," answered Orsino with conviction. "How do you expect me to occupy +myself during the next ten years?" + +"That is true," Gouache replied, somewhat thoughtfully, as though the +consideration had not struck him. + +"If I were an artist, it would be different." + +"Oh, very different. I agree with you." Anastase smiled good-humouredly. + +"Because I should have talent--and a talent is an occupation in itself." + +"I daresay you would have talent," Gouache answered, still laughing. + +"No--I did not mean it in that way--I mean that when a man has a talent +it makes him think of something besides himself." + +"I fancy there is more truth in that remark than either you or I would +at first think," said the painter in a meditative tone. + +"Of course there is," returned the youthful philosopher, with more +enthusiasm than he would have cared to show if he had been talking to a +woman. "What is talent but a combination of the desire to do and the +power to accomplish? As for genius, it is never selfish when it is at +work." + +"Is that reflection your own?" + +"I think so," answered Orsino modestly. He was secretly pleased that a +man of the artist's experience and reputation should be struck by his +remark. + +"I do not think I agree with you," said Gouache. + +Orsino's expression changed a little. He was disappointed, but he said +nothing. + +"I think that a great genius is often ruthless. Do you remember how +Beethoven congratulated a young composer after the first performance of +his opera? 'I like your opera--I will write music to it.' That was a +fine instance of unselfishness, was it not. I can see the young man's +face--" Anastase smiled. + +"Beethoven was not at work when he made the remark," observed Orsino, +defending himself. + +"Nor am I," said Gouache, taking up his brushes again. "If you will +resume the pose--so--thoughtful but bold--imagine that you are already +an ancestor contemplating posterity from the height of a nobler age--you +understand. Try and look as if you were already framed and hanging in +the Saracinesca gallery between a Titian and a Giorgione." + +Orsino resumed his position and scowled at Anastase with a good will. + +"Not quite such a terrible frown, perhaps," suggested the latter. "When +you do that, you certainly look like the gentleman who murdered the +Colonna in a street brawl--I forget how long ago. You have his portrait. +But I fancy the Princess would prefer--yes--that is more natural. You +have her eyes. How the world raved about her twenty years ago--and raves +still, for that matter." + +"She is the most beautiful woman in the world," said Orsino. There was +something in the boy's unaffected admiration of his mother which +contrasted pleasantly with his youthful affectation of cynicism and +indifference. His handsome face lighted up a little, and the painter +worked rapidly. + +But the expression was not lasting. Orsino was at the age when most +young men take the trouble to cultivate a manner, and the look of +somewhat contemptuous gravity which he had lately acquired was already +becoming habitual. Since all men in general have adopted the fashion of +the mustache, youths who are still waiting for the full crop seem to +have difficulty in managing their mouths. Some draw in their lips with +that air of unnatural sternness observable in rough weather among +passengers on board ship, just before they relinquish the struggle and +retire from public life. Others contract their mouths to the shape of a +heart, while there are yet others who lose control of the pendant lower +lip and are content to look like idiots, while expecting the hairy +growth which is to make them look like men. Orsino had chosen the least +objectionable idiosyncrasy and had elected to be of a stern countenance. +When he forgot himself he was singularly handsome, and Gouache lay in +wait for his moments of forgetfulness. + +"You are quite right," said the Frenchman. "From the classic point of +view your mother was and is the most beautiful dark woman in the world. +For myself--well in the first place, you are her son, and secondly I am +an artist and not a critic. The painter's tongue is his brush and his +words are colours." + +"What were you going to say about my mother?" asked Orsino with some +curiosity. + +"Oh--nothing. Well, if you must hear it, the Princess represents my +classical ideal, but not my personal ideal. I have admired some one else +more." + +"Donna Faustina?" enquired Orsino. + +"Ah well, my friend--she is my wife, you see. That always makes a great +difference in the degree of admiration--" + +"Generally in the opposite direction," Orsino observed in a tone of +elderly unbelief. + +Gouache had just put his brush into his mouth and held it between his +teeth as a poodle carries a stick, while he used his thumb on the +canvas. The modern painter paints with everything, not excepting his +fingers. He glanced at his model and then at his work, and got his +effect before he answered. + +"You are very hard upon marriage," he said quietly. "Have you tried it?" + +"Not yet. I will wait as long as possible, before I do. It is not every +one who has your luck." + +"There was something more than luck in my marriage. We loved each other, +it is true, but there were difficulties--you have no idea what +difficulties there were. But Faustina was brave and I caught a little +courage from her. Do you know that when the Serristori barracks were +blown up she ran out alone to find me merely because she thought I might +have been killed? I found her in the ruins, praying for me. It was +sublime." + +"I have heard that. She was very brave--" + +"And I a poor Zouave--and a poorer painter. Are there such women +nowadays? Bah! I have not known them. We used to meet at churches and +exchange two words while her maid was gone to get her a chair. Oh, the +good old time! And then the separations--the taking of Rome, when the +old Princess carried all the family off to England and stayed there +while we were fighting for poor France--and the coming back and the +months of waiting, and the notes dropped from her window at midnight and +the great quarrel with her family when we took advantage of the new law. +And then the marriage itself--what a scandal in Rome! But for the +Princess, your mother, I do not know what we should have done. She +brought Faustina to the church and drove us to the station in her own +carriage--in the face of society. They say that Ascanio Bellegra hung +about the door of the church while we were being married, but he had not +the courage to come in, for fear of his mother. We went to Naples and +lived on salad and love--and we had very little else for a year or two. +I was not much known, then, except in Rome, and Roman society refused to +have its portrait painted by the adventurer who had run away with a +daughter of Casa Montevarchi. Perhaps, if we had been rich, we should +have hated each other by this time. But we had to live for each other in +those days, for every one was against us. I painted, and she kept +house--that English blood is always practical in a desert. And it was a +desert. The cooking--it would have made a billiard ball's hair stand on +end with astonishment. She made the salad, and then evolved the roast +from the inner consciousness. I painted a chaudfroid on an old plate. It +was well done--the transparent quality of the jelly and the delicate +ortolans imprisoned within, imploring dissection. Well, must I tell you? +We threw it away. It was martyrdom. Saint Anthony's position was +enviable compared with ours. Beside us that good man would have seemed +but a humbug. Yet we lived through it all. I repeat it. We lived, and we +were happy. It is amazing, how a man may love his wife." + +Anastase had told his story with many pauses, working hard while he +spoke, for though he was quite in earnest in all he said, his chief +object was to distract the young man's attention, so as to bring out his +natural expression. Having exhausted one of the colours he needed, he +drew back and contemplated his work. Orsino seemed lost in thought. + +"What are you thinking about?" asked the painter. + +"Do you think I am too old to become an artist?" enquired the young man. + +"You? Who knows? But the times are too old. It is the same thing." + +"I do not understand." + +"You are in love with the life--not with the profession. But the life is +not the same now, nor the art either. Bah! In a few years I shall be out +of fashion. I know it. Then we will go back to first principles. A +garret to live in, bread and salad for dinner. Of course--what do you +expect? That need not prevent us from living in a palace as long as we +can." + +Thereupon Anastase Gouache hummed a very lively little song as he +squeezed a few colours from the tubes. Orsino's face betrayed his +discontentment. + +"I was not in earnest," he said. "At least, not as to becoming an +artist. I only asked the question to be sure that you would answer it +just as everybody answers all questions of the kind--by discouraging my +wish do anything for myself." + +"Why should you do anything? You are so rich!" + +"What everybody says! Do you know what we rich men, or we men who are to +be rich, are expected to be? Farmers. It is not gay." + +"It would be my dream--pastoral, you know--Normandy cows, a river with +reeds, perpetual Angelus, bread and milk for supper. I adore milk. A +nymph here and there--at your age, it is permitted. My dear friend, why +not be a farmer?" + +Orsino laughed a little, in spite of himself. + +"I suppose that is an artist's idea of farming." + +"As near the truth as a farmer's idea of art, I daresay," retorted +Gouache. + +"We see you paint, but you never see us at work. That is the +difference--but that is not the question. Whatever I propose, I get the +same answer. I imagine you will permit me to dislike farming as a +profession." + +"For the sake of argument, only," said Gouache gravely. + +"Good. For the sake of argument. We will suppose that I am myself in all +respects what I am, excepting that I am never to have any land, and only +enough money to buy cigarettes. I say, 'Let me take a profession. Let me +be a soldier.' Every one rises up and protests against the idea of a +Saracinesca serving in the Italian army. Why? Remember that your father +was a volunteer officer under Pope Pius Ninth.' It is comic. He spent an +afternoon on the Pincio for his convictions, and then retired into +private life. 'Let me serve in a foreign army--France, Austria, Russia, +I do not care.' They are more horrified than ever. 'You have not a spark +of patriotism! To serve a foreign power! How dreadful! And as for the +Russians, they are all heretics.' Perhaps they are. I will try +diplomacy. 'What? Sacrifice your convictions? Become the blind +instrument of a scheming, dishonest ministry? It is unworthy of a +Saracinesca!' I will think no more about it. Let me be a lawyer and +enter public life. 'A lawyer indeed! Will you wrangle in public with +notaries' sons, defend murderers and burglars, and take fees like the +old men who write letters for the peasants under a green umbrella in +the street? It would be almost better to turn musician and give +concerts.' 'The Church, perhaps?' I suggest. 'The Church? Are you not +the heir, and will you not be the head of the family some day? You must +be mad.' 'Then give me a sum of money and let me try my luck with my +cousin San Giacinto.' 'Business? If you make money it is a degradation, +and with these new laws you cannot afford to lose it. Besides, you will +have enough of business when you have to manage your estates.' So all my +questions are answered, and I am condemned at twenty to be a farmer for +my natural life. I say so. 'A farmer, forsooth! Have you not the world +before you? Have you not received the most liberal education? Are you +not rich? How can you take such a narrow view! Come out to the Villa and +look at those young thoroughbreds, and afterwards we will drop in at the +club before dinner. Then there is that reception at the old Principessa +Befana's to-night, and the Duchessa della Seccatura is also at home.' +That is my life, Monsieur Gouache. There you have the question, the +answer and the result. Admit that it is not gay." + +"It is very serious, on the contrary," answered Gouache who had listened +to the detached Jeremiah with more curiosity and interest than he often +shewed. + +"I see nothing for it, but for you to fall in love without losing a +single moment." + +Orsino laughed a little harshly. + +"I am in the humour, I assure you," he answered. + +"Well, then--what are you waiting for?" enquired Gouache, looking at +him. + +"What for? For an object for my affections, of course. That is rather +necessary under the circumstances." + +"You may not wait long, if you will consent to stay here another quarter +of an hour," said Anastase with a laugh. "A lady is coming, whose +portrait I am painting--an interesting woman--tolerably +beautiful--rather mysterious--here she is, you can have a good look at +her, before you make up your mind." + +Anastase took the half-finished portrait of Orsino from the easel and +put another in its place, considerably further advanced in execution. +Orsino lit a cigarette in order to quicken his judgment, and looked at +the canvas. + +The picture was decidedly striking and one felt at once that it must be +a good likeness. Gouache was evidently proud of it. It represented a +woman, who was certainly not yet thirty years of age, in full dress, +seated in a high, carved chair against a warm, dark background. A mantle +of some sort of heavy, claret-coloured brocade, lined with fur, was +draped across one of the beautiful shoulders, leaving the other bare, +the scant dress of the period scarcely breaking the graceful lines from +the throat to the soft white hand, of which the pointed fingers hung +carelessly over the carved extremity of the arm of the chair. The lady's +hair was auburn, her eyes distinctly yellow. The face was an unusual one +and not without attraction, very pale, with a full red mouth too wide +for perfect beauty, but well modelled--almost too well, Gouache thought. +The nose was of no distinct type, and was the least significant feature +in the face, but the forehead was broad and massive, the chin soft, +prominent and round, the brows much arched and divided by a vertical +shadow which, in the original, might be the first indication of a tiny +wrinkle. Orsino fancied that one eye or the other wandered a very +little, but he could not tell which--the slight defect made the glance +disquieting and yet attractive. Altogether it was one of those faces +which to one man say too little, and to another too much. + +Orsino affected to gaze upon the portrait with unconcern, but in reality +he was oddly fascinated by it, and Gouache did not fail to see the +truth. + +"You had better go away, my friend," he said, with a smile. "She will be +here in a few minutes and you will certainly lose your heart if you see +her." + +"What is her name?" asked Orsino, paying no attention to the remark. + +"Donna Maria Consuelo--something or other--a string of names ending in +Aragona. I call her Madame d'Aragona for shortness, and she does not +seem to object." + +"Married? And Spanish?" + +"I suppose so," answered Gouache. "A widow I believe. She is not Italian +and not French, so she must be Spanish." + +"The name does not say much. Many people put 'd'Aragona' after their +names--some cousins of ours, among others--they are Aranjuez +d'Aragona--my father's mother was of that family." + +"I think that is the name--Aranjuez. Indeed I am sure of it, for +Faustina remarked that she might be related to you." + +"It is odd. We have not heard of her being in Rome--and I am not sure +who she is. Has she been here long?" + +"I have known her a month--since she first came to my studio. She lives +in a hotel, and she comes alone, except when I need the dress and then +she brings her maid, an odd creature who never speaks and seems to +understand no known language." + +"It is an interesting face. Do you mind if I stay till she comes? We +may really be cousins, you know." + +"By all means--you can ask her. The relationship would be with her +husband, I suppose." + +"True. I had not thought of that; and he is dead, you say?" + +Gouache did not answer, for at that moment the lady's footfall was heard +upon the marble floor, soft, quick and decided. She paused a moment in +the middle of the room when she saw that the artist was not alone. He +went forward to meet her and asked leave to present Orsino, with that +polite indistinctness which leaves to the persons introduced the task of +discovering one another's names. + +Orsino looked into the lady's eyes and saw that the slight peculiarity +of the glance was real and not due to any error of Gouache's drawing. He +recognised each feature in turn in the one look he gave at the face +before he bowed, and he saw that the portrait was indeed very good. He +was not subject to shyness. + +"We should be cousins, Madame," he said. "My father's mother was an +Aranjuez d'Aragona." + +"Indeed?" said the lady with calm indifference, looking critically at +the picture of herself. + +"I am Orsino Saracinesca," said the young man, watching her with some +admiration. + +"Indeed?" she repeated, a shade less coldly. "I think I have heard my +poor husband say that he was connected with your family. What do you +think of my portrait? Every one has tried to paint me and failed, but my +friend Monsieur Gouache is succeeding. He has reproduced my hideous nose +and my dreadful mouth with a masterly exactness. No--my dear Monsieur +Gouache--it is a compliment I pay you. I am in earnest. I do not want a +portrait of the Venus of Milo with red hair, nor of the Minerva Medica +with yellow eyes, nor of an imaginary Medea in a fur cloak. I want +myself, just as I am. That is exactly what you are doing for me. Myself +and I have lived so long together that I desire a little memento of the +acquaintance." + +"You can afford to speak lightly of what is so precious to others," said +Gouache, gallantly. Madame d'Aranjuez sank into the carved chair Orsino +had occupied. + +"This dear Gouache--he is charming, is he not?" she said with a little +laugh. Orsino looked at her. + +"Gouache is right," he thought, with the assurance of his years. "It +would be amusing to fall in love with her." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Gouache was far more interested in his work than in the opinions which +his two visitors might entertain of each other. He looked at the lady +fixedly, moved his easel, raised the picture a few inches higher from +the ground and looked again. Orsino watched the proceedings from a +little distance, debating whether he should go away or remain. Much +depended upon Madame d'Aragona's character, he thought, and of this he +knew nothing. Some women are attracted by indifference, and to go away +would be to show a disinclination to press the acquaintance. Others, he +reflected, prefer the assurance of the man who always stays, even +without an invitation, rather than lose his chance. On the other hand a +sitting in a studio is not exactly like a meeting in a drawing-room. The +painter has a sort of traditional, exclusive right to his sitter's sole +attention. The sitter, too, if a woman, enjoys the privilege of +sacrificing one-half her good looks in a bad light, to favour the other +side which is presented to the artist's view, and the third person, if +there be one, has a provoking habit of so placing himself as to receive +the least flattering impression. Hence the great unpopularity of the +third person--or "the third inconvenience," as the Romans call him. + +Orsino stood still for a few moments, wondering whether either of the +two would ask him to sit down. As they did not, he was annoyed with them +and determined to stay, if only for five minutes. He took up his +position, in a deep seat under the high window, and watched Madame +d'Aragona's profile. Neither she nor Gouache made any remark. Gouache +began to brush over the face of his picture. Orsino felt that the +silence was becoming awkward. He began to regret that he had remained, +for he discovered from his present position that the lady's nose was +indeed her defective feature. + +"You do not mind my staying a few minutes?" he said, with a vague +interrogation. + +"Ask Madame, rather," answered Gouache, brushing away in a lively +manner. Madame said nothing, and seemed not to have heard. + +"Am I indiscreet?" asked Orsino. + +"How? No. Why should you not remain? Only, if you please, sit where I +can see you. Thanks. I do not like to feel that some one is looking at +me and that I cannot look at him, if I please--and as for me, I am +nailed in my position. How can I turn my head? Gouache is very severe." + +"You may have heard, Madame, that a beautiful woman is most beautiful in +repose," said Gouache. + +Orsino was annoyed, for he had of course wished to make exactly the same +remark. But they were talking in French, and the Frenchman had the +advantage of speed. + +"And how about an ugly woman?" asked Madame d'Aragona. + +"Motion is most becoming to her--rapid motion--the door," answered the +artist. + +Orsino had changed his position and was standing behind Gouache. + +"I wish you would sit down," said the latter, after a short pause. "I +do not like to feel that any one is standing behind me when I am at +work. It is a weakness, but I cannot help it. Do you believe in mental +suggestion, Madame?" + +"What is that?" asked Madame d'Aragona vaguely. + +"I always imagine that a person standing behind me when I am at work is +making me see everything as he sees," answered Gouache, not attempting +to answer the question. + +Orsino, driven from pillar to post, had again moved away. + +"And do you believe in such absurd superstitions?" enquired Madame +d'Aragona with a contemptuous curl of her heavy lips. "Monsieur de +Saracinesca, will you not sit down? You make me a little nervous." + +Gouache raised his finely marked eyebrows almost imperceptibly at the +odd form of address, which betrayed ignorance either of worldly usage or +else of Orsino's individuality. He stepped back from the canvas and +moved a chair forward. + +"Sit here, Prince," he said. "Madame can see you, and you will not be +behind me." + +Orsino took the proffered seat without any remark. Madame d'Aragona's +expression did not change, though she was perfectly well aware that +Gouache had intended to correct her manner of addressing the young man. +The latter was slightly annoyed. What difference could it make? It was +tactless of Gouache, he thought, for the lady might be angry. + +"Are you spending the winter in Rome, Madame?" he asked. He was +conscious that the question lacked originality, but no other presented +itself to him. + +"The winter?" repeated Madame d'Aragona dreamily. "Who knows? I am here +at present, at the mercy of the great painter. That is all I know. Shall +I be here next month, next week? I cannot tell. I know no one. I have +never been here before. It is dull. This was my object," she added, +after a short pause. "When it is accomplished I will consider other +matters. I may be obliged to accompany their Royal Highnesses to Egypt +in January. That is next month, is it not?" + +It was so very far from clear who the royal highnesses in question might +be, that Orsino glanced at Gouache, to see whether he understood. But +Gouache was imperturbable. + +"January, Madame, follows December," he answered. "The fact is confirmed +by the observations of many centuries. Even in my own experience it has +occurred forty-seven times in succession." + +Orsino laughed a little, and as Madame d'Aragona's eyes met his, the red +lips smiled, without parting. + +"He is always laughing at me," she said pleasantly. + +Gouache was painting with great alacrity. The smile was becoming to her +and he caught it as it passed. It must be allowed that she permitted it +to linger, as though she understood his wish, but as she was looking at +Orsino, he was pleased. + +"If you will permit me to say it, Madame," he observed, "I have never +seen eyes like yours." + +He endeavoured to lose himself in their depths as he spoke. Madame +d'Aragona was not in the least annoyed by the remark, nor by the look. + +"What is there so very unusual about my eyes?" she enquired. The smile +grew a little more faint and thoughtful but did not disappear. + +"In the first place, I have never seen eyes of a golden-yellow colour." + +"Tigers have yellow eyes," observed Madame d'Aragona. + +"My acquaintance with that animal is at second hand--slight, to say the +least." + +"You have never shot one?" + +"Never, Madame. They do not abound in Rome--nor even, I believe, in +Albano. My father killed one when he was a young man." + +"Prince Saracinesca?" + +"Sant' Ilario. My grandfather is still alive." + +"How splendid! I adore strong races." + +"It is very interesting," observed Gouache, poking the stick of a brush +into the eye of his picture. "I have painted three generations of the +family, I who speak to you, and I hope to paint the fourth if Don Orsino +here can be cured of his cynicism and induced to marry Donna--what is +her name?" He turned to the young man. + +"She has none--and she is likely to remain nameless," answered Orsino +gloomily. + +"We will call her Donna Ignota," suggested Madame d'Aragona. + +"And build altars to the unknown love," added Gouache. + +Madame d'Aragona smiled faintly, but Orsino persisted in looking grave. + +"It seems to be an unpleasant subject, Prince." + +"Very unpleasant, Madame," answered Orsino shortly. + +Thereupon Madame d'Aragona looked at Gouache and raised her brows a +little as though to ask a question, knowing perfectly well that Orsino +was watching her. The young man could not see the painter's eyes, and +the latter did not betray by any gesture that he was answering the +silent interrogation. + +"Then I have eyes like a tiger, you say. You frighten me. How +disagreeable--to look like a wild beast!" + +"It is a prejudice," returned Orsino. "One hears people say of a woman +that she is beautiful as a tigress." + +"An idea!" exclaimed Gouache, interrupting. "Shall I change the damask +cloak to a tiger's skin? One claw just hanging over the white +shoulder--Omphale, you know--in a modern drawing-room--a small cast of +the Farnese Hercules upon a bracket, there, on the right. Decidedly, +here is an idea. Do you permit, Madame!" + +"Anything you like--only do not spoil the likeness," answered Madame +d'Aragona, leaning back in her chair, and looking sleepily at Orsino +from beneath her heavy, half-closed lids. + +"You will spoil the whole picture," said Orsino, rather anxiously. + +Gouache laughed. + +"What harm if I do? I can restore it in five minutes--" + +"Five minutes!" + +"An hour, if you insist upon accuracy of statement," replied Gouache +with a shade of annoyance. + +He had an idea, and like most people whom fate occasionally favours with +that rare commodity he did not like to be disturbed in the realisation +of it. He was already squeezing out quantities of tawny colours upon his +palette. + +"I am a passive instrument," said Madame d'Aragona. "He does what he +pleases. These men of genius--what would you have? Yesterday a gown from +Worth--to-day a tiger's skin--indeed, I tremble for to-morrow." + +She laughed a little and turned her head away. + +"You need not fear," answered Gouache, daubing in his new idea with an +enormous brush. "Fashions change. Woman endures. Beauty is eternal. +There is nothing which may not be made becoming to a beautiful woman." + +"My dear Gouache, you are insufferable. You are always telling me that I +am beautiful. Look at my nose." + +"Yes. I am looking at it." + +"And my mouth." + +"I look. I see. I admire. Have you any other personal observations to +make? How many claws has a tiger, Don Orsino? Quick! I am painting the +thing." + +"One less than a woman." + +Madame d'Aragona looked at the young man a moment, and broke into a +laugh. + +"There is a charming speech. I like that better than Gouache's +flattery." + +"And yet you admit that the portrait is like you," said Gouache. + +"Perhaps I flatter you, too." + +"Ah! I had not thought of that." + +"You should be more modest." + +"I lose myself--" + +"Where?" + +"In your eyes, Madame. One, two, three, four--are you sure a tiger has +only four claws? Where is the creature's thumb--what do you call it? It +looks awkward." + +"The dew-claw?" asked Orsino. "It is higher up, behind the paw. You +would hardly see it in the skin." + +"But a cat has five claws," said Madame d'Aragona. "Is not a tiger a +cat? We must have the thing right, you know, if it is to be done at +all." + +"Has a cat five claws?" asked Anastase, appealing anxiously to Orsino. + +"Of course, but you would only see four on the skin." + +"I insist upon knowing," said Madame d'Aragona. "This is dreadful! Has +no one got a tiger? What sort of studio is this--with no tiger!" + +"I am not Sarah Bernhardt, nor the emperor of Siam," observed Gouache, +with a laugh. + +But Madame d'Aragona was not satisfied. + +"I am sure you could procure me one, Prince," she said, turning to +Orsino. "I am sure you could, if you would! I shall cry if I do not have +one, and it will be your fault." + +"Would you like the animal alive or dead?" inquired Orsino gravely, and +he rose from his seat. + +"Ah, I knew you could procure the thing!" she exclaimed with grateful +enthusiasm. "Alive or dead, Gouache? Quick--decide!" + +"As you please, Madame. If you decide to have him alive, I will ask +permission to exchange a few words with my wife and children, while some +one goes for a priest." + +"You are sublime, to-day. Dead, then, if you please, Prince. Quite +dead--but do not say that I was afraid--" + +"Afraid? With, a Saracinesca and a Gouache to defend your life, Madame? +You are not serious." + +Orsino took his hat. + +"I shall be back in a quarter of an hour," he said, as he bowed and went +out. + +Madame d'Aragona watched his tall young figure till he disappeared. + +"He does not lack spirit, your young friend," she observed. + +"No member of that family ever did, I think," Gouache answered. "They +are a remarkable race." + +"And he is the only son?" + +"Oh no! He has three younger brothers." + +"Poor fellow! I suppose the fortune is not very large." + +"I have no means of knowing," replied Gouache indifferently. "Their +palace is historic. Their equipages are magnificent. That is all that +foreigners see of Roman families." + +"But you know them intimately?" + +"Intimately--that is saying too much. I have painted their portraits." + +Madame d'Aragona wondered why he was so reticent, for she knew that he +had himself married the daughter of a Roman prince, and she concluded +that he must know much of the Romans. + +"Do you think he will bring the tiger?" she asked presently. + +"He is quite capable of bringing a whole menagerie of tigers for you to +choose from." + +"How interesting. I like men who stop at nothing. It was really +unpardonable of you to suggest the idea and then to tell me calmly that +you had no model for it." + +In the meantime Orsino had descended the stairs and was hailing a +passing cab. He debated for a moment what he should do. It chanced that +at that time there was actually a collection of wild beasts to be seen +in the Prati di Castello, and Orsino supposed that the owner might be +induced, for a large consideration, to part with one of his tigers. He +even imagined that he might shoot the beast and bring it back in the +cab. But, in the first place, he was not provided with an adequate sum +of money nor did he know exactly how to lay his hand on so large a sum +as might be necessary, at a moment's notice. He was still under age, and +his allowance had not been calculated with a view to his buying +menageries. Moreover he considered that even if his pockets had been +full of bank notes, the idea was ridiculous, and he was rather ashamed +of his youthful impulse. It occurred to him that what was necessary for +the picture was not the carcase of the tiger but the skin, and he +remembered that such a skin lay on the floor in his father's private +room--the spoil of the animal Giovanni Saracinesca had shot in his +youth. It had been well cared for and was a fine specimen. + +"Palazzo Saracinesca," he said to the cabman. + +Now it chanced, as such things will chance in the inscrutable ways of +fate, that Sant' Ilario was just then in that very room and busy with +his correspondence. Orsino had hoped to carry off what he wanted, +without being questioned, in order to save time, but he now found +himself obliged to explain his errand. + +Sant' Ilario looked, up in some surprise as his son entered. + +"Well, Orsino? Is anything the matter?" he asked. + +"Nothing serious, father. I want to borrow your tiger's skin for +Gouache. Will you lend it to me?" + +"Of course. But what in the world does Gouache want of it? Is he +painting you in skins--the primeval youth of the forest?" + +"No--not exactly. The fact is, there is a lady there. Gouache talks of +painting her as a modern Omphale, with a tiger's skin and a cast of +Hercules in the background--" + +"Hercules wore a lion's skin--not a tiger's. He killed the Nemean lion." + +"Did he?" inquired Orsino indifferently. "It is all the same--they do +not know it, and they want a tiger. When I left they were debating +whether they wanted it alive or dead. I thought of buying one at the +Prati di Castello, but it seemed cheaper to borrow the skin of you. May +I take it?" + +Sant' Ilario laughed. Orsino rolled up the great hide and carried it to +the door. + +"Who is the lady, my boy?" + +"I never saw her before--a certain Donna Maria d'Aranjuez d'Aragona. I +fancy she must be a kind of cousin. Do you know anything about her?" + +"I never heard of such a person. Is that her own name?" + +"No--she seems to be somebody's widow." + +"That is definite. What is she like?" + +"Passably handsome--yellow eyes, reddish hair, one eye wanders." + +"What an awful picture! Do not fall in love with her, Orsino." + +"No fear of that--but she is amusing, and she wants the tiger." + +"You seem to be in a hurry," observed Sant' Ilario, considerably amused. + +"Naturally. They are waiting for me." + +"Well, go as fast as you can--never keep a woman waiting. By the way, +bring the skin back. I would rather you bought twenty live tigers at the +Prati than lose that old thing." + +Orsino promised and was soon in his cab on the way to Gouache's studio, +having the skin rolled up on his knees, the head hanging out on one side +and the tail on the other, to the infinite interest of the people in the +street. He was just congratulating himself on having wasted so little +time in conversation with his father, when the figure of a tall woman +walking towards him on the pavement, arrested his attention. His cab +must pass close by her, and there was no mistaking his mother at a +hundred yards' distance. She saw him too and made a sign with her +parasol for him to stop. + +"Good-morning, Orsino," said the sweet deep voice. + +"Good-morning, mother," he answered, as he descended hat in hand, and +kissed the gloved fingers she extended to him. + +He could not help thinking, as he looked at her, that she was infinitely +more beautiful even now than Madame d'Aragona. As for Corona, it seemed +to her that there was no man on earth to compare with her eldest son, +except Giovanni himself, and there all comparison ceased. Their eyes met +affectionately and it would have been, hard to say which was the more +proud of the other, the son of his mother, or the mother of her son. +Nevertheless Orsino was in a hurry. Anticipating all questions he told +her in as few words as possible the nature of his errand, the object of +the tiger's skin, and the name of the lady who was sitting to Gouache. + +"It is strange," said Corona. "I have never heard your father speak of +her." + +"He has never heard of her either. He just told me so." + +"I have almost enough curiosity to get into your cab and go with you." + +"Do, mother." There was not much enthusiasm in the answer. + +Corona looked at him, smiled, and shook her head. + +"Foolish boy! Did you think I was in earnest? I should only spoil your +amusement in the studio, and the lady would see that I had come to +inspect her. Two good reasons--but the first is the better, dear. Go--do +not keep them waiting." + +"Will you not take my cab? I can get another." + +"No. I am in no hurry. Good-bye." + +And nodding to him with an affectionate smile, Corona passed on, leaving +Orsino free at last to carry the skin to its destination. + +When he entered the studio he found Madame d'Aragona absorbed in the +contemplation of a piece of old tapestry which hung opposite to her, +while Gouache was drawing in a tiny Hercules, high up in the right hand +corner of the picture, as he had proposed. The conversation seemed to +have languished, and Orsino was immediately conscious that the +atmosphere had changed since he had left. He unrolled the skin as he +entered, and Madame d'Aragona looked at it critically. She saw that the +tawny colours would become her in the portrait and her expression grew +more animated. + +"It is really very good of you," she said, with a grateful glance. + +"I have a disappointment in store for you," answered Orsino. "My father +says that Hercules wore a lion's skin. He is quite right, I remember all +about it." + +"Of course," said Gouache. "How could we make such a mistake!" + +He dropped the bit of chalk he held and looked at Madame d'Aragona. + +"What difference does it make?" asked the latter. "A lion--a tiger! I am +sure they are very much alike." + +"After all, it is a tiresome idea," said the painter. "You will be much +better in the damask cloak. Besides, with the lion's skin you should +have the club--imagine a club in your hands! And Hercules should be +spinning at your feet--a man in a black coat and a high collar, with a +distaff! It is an absurd idea." + +"You should not call my ideas absurd and tiresome. It is not civil." + +"I thought it had been mine," observed Gouache. + +"Not at all. I thought of it--it was quite original." + +Gouache laughed a little and looked at Orsino as though asking his +opinion. + +"Madame is right," said the latter. "She suggested the whole idea--by +having yellow eyes." + +"You see, Gouache. I told you so. The Prince takes my view. What will +you do?" + +"Whatever you command--" + +"But I do not want to be ridiculous--" + +"I do not see--" + +"And yet I must have the tiger." + +"I am ready." + +"Doubtless--but you must think of another subject, with a tiger in it." + +"Nothing easier. Noble Roman damsel--Colosseum--tiger about to +spring--rose--" + +"Just heaven! What an old story! Besides, I have not the type." + +"The 'Mysteries of Dionysus,'" suggested Gouache. "Thyrsus, leopard's +skin--" + +"A Bacchante! Fie, Monsieur--and then, the leopard, when we only have a +tiger." + +"Indian princess interviewed by a man-eater--jungle--new moon--tropical +vegetation--" + +"You can think of nothing but subjects for a dark type," said Madame +d'Aragona impatiently. + +"The fact is, in countries where the tiger walks abroad, the women are +generally brunettes." + +"I hate facts. You who are enthusiastic, can you not help us?" She +turned to Orsino. + +"Am I enthusiastic?" + +"Yes, I am sure of it. Think of something." + +Orsino was not pleased. He would have preferred to be thought cold and +impassive. + +"What can I say? The first idea was the best. Get a lion instead of a +tiger--nothing is simpler." + +"For my part I prefer the damask cloak and the original picture," said +Gouache with decision. "All this mythology is too complicated--too +Pompeian--how shall I say? Besides there is no distinct allusion. A +Hercules on a bracket--anybody may have that. If you were the Marchessa +di San Giacinto, for instance--oh, then everyone would laugh." + +"Why? What is that?" + +"She married my cousin," said Orsino. "He is an enormous giant, and they +say that she has tamed him." + +"Ah no! That would not do. Something else, please." + +Orsino involuntarily thought of a sphynx as he looked at the massive +brow, the yellow, sleepy eyes, and the heavy mouth. He wondered how the +late Aranjuez had lived and what death he had died. + +He offered the suggestion. + +"It would be appropriate," replied Madame d'Aragona. "The Sphynx in the +Desert. Rome is a desert to me." + +"It only depends on you--" Orsino began. + +"Oh, of course! To make acquaintances, to show myself a little +everywhere--it is simple enough. But it wearies me--until one is caught +up in the machinery, a toothed wheel going round with the rest, one only +bores oneself, and I may leave so soon. Decidedly it is not worth the +trouble. Is it?" + +She turned her eyes to Orsino as though asking his advice. Orsino +laughed. + +"How can you ask that question!" he exclaimed. "Only let the trouble be +ours." + +"Ah! I said you were enthusiastic." She shook her head, and rose from +her seat. "It is time for me to go. We have done nothing this morning, +and it is all your fault, Prince." + +"I am distressed--I will not intrude upon your next sitting." + +"Oh--as far as that is concerned--" She did not finish the sentence, but +took up the neglected tiger's skin from the chair on which it lay. + +She threw it over her shoulders, bringing the grinning head over her +hair and holding the forepaws in her pointed white fingers. She came +very near to Gouache and looked into his eyes, her closed lips smiling. + +"Admirable!" exclaimed Gouache. "It is impossible to tell where the +woman ends and the tiger begins. Let me draw you like that." + +"Oh no! Not for anything in the world." + +She turned away quickly and dropped the skin from her shoulders. + +"You will not stay a little longer? You will not let me try?" Gouache +seemed disappointed. + +"Impossible," she answered, putting on her hat and beginning to arrange +her veil before a mirror. + +Orsino watched her as she stood, her arms uplifted, in an attitude which +is almost always graceful, even for an otherwise ungraceful woman. +Madame d'Aragona was perhaps a little too short, but she was justly +proportioned and appeared to be rather slight, though the tight-fitting +sleeves of her frock betrayed a remarkably well turned arm. Not seeing +her face, one might not have singled her out of many as a very striking +woman, for she had neither the stateliness of Orsino's mother, nor the +enchanting grace which distinguished Gouache's wife. But no one could +look into her eyes without feeling that she was very far from being an +ordinary woman. + +"Quite impossible," she repeated, as she tucked in the ends of her veil +and then turned upon the two men. "The next sitting? Whenever you +like--to-morrow--the day after--name the time." + +"When to-morrow is possible, there is no choice," said Gouache, "unless +you will come again to-day." + +"To-morrow, then, good-bye." She held out her hand. + +"There are sketches on each of my fingers, Madame--principally, of +tigers." + +"Good-bye then--consider your hand shaken. Are you going, Prince?" + +Orsino had taken his hat and was standing beside her. + +"You will allow me to put you into your carriage." + +"I shall walk." + +"So much the better. Good-bye, Monsieur Gouache." + +"Why say, Monsieur?" + +"As you like--you are older than I." + +"I? Who has told you that legend? It is only a myth. When you are sixty +years old, I shall still be five-and-twenty." + +"And I?" enquired Madame d'Aragona, who was still young enough to laugh +at age. + +"As old as you were yesterday, not a day older." + +"Why not say to-day?" + +"Because to-day has a to-morrow--yesterday has none." + +"You are delicious, my dear Gouache. Good-bye." + +Madame d'Aragona went out with Orsino, and they descended the broad +staircase together. Orsino was not sure whether he might not be showing +too much anxiety to remain in the company of his new acquaintance, and +as he realised how unpleasant it would be to sacrifice the walk with +her, he endeavoured to excuse to himself his derogation from his +self-imposed character of cool superiority and indifference. She was +very amusing, he said to himself, and he had nothing in the world to do. +He never had anything to do, since his education had been completed. Why +should he not walk with Madame d'Aragona and talk to her? It would be +better than hanging about the club or reading a novel at home. The +hounds did not meet on that day, or he would not have been at Gouache's +at all. But they were to meet to-morrow, and he would therefore not see +Madame d'Aragona. + +"Gouache is an old friend of yours, I suppose," observed the lady. + +"He was a friend of my father's. He is almost a Roman. He married a +distant connection of mine, Donna Faustina Montevarchi." + +"Ah yes--I have heard. He is a man of immense genius." + +"He is a man I envy with all my heart," said Orsino. + +"You envy Gouache? I should not have thought--" + +"No? Ah, Madame, to me a man who has a career, a profession, an +interest, is a god." + +"I like that," answered Madame d'Aragona. "But it seems to me you have +your choice. You have the world before you. Write your name upon it. You +do not lack enthusiasm. Is it the inspiration that you need?" + +"Perhaps," said Orsino glancing meaningly at her as she looked at him. + +"That is not new," thought she, "but he is charming, all the same. They +say," she added aloud, "that genius finds inspiration everywhere." + +"Alas, I am not a genius. What I ask is an occupation, and permanent +interest. The thing is impossible, but I am not resigned." + +"Before thirty everything is possible," said Madame d'Aragona. She knew +that the mere mention of so mature an age would be flattering to such a +boy. + +"The objections are insurmountable," replied Orsino. + +"What objections? Remember that I do not know Rome, nor the Romans." + +"We are petrified in traditions. Spicca said the other day that there +was but one hope for us. The Americans may yet discover Italy, as we +once discovered America." + +Madame d'Aragona smiled. + +"Who is Spicca?" she enquired, with a lazy glance at her companion's +face. + +"Spicca? Surely you have heard of him. He used to be a famous duellist. +He is our great wit. My father likes him very much--he is an odd +character." + +"There will be all the more credit in succeeding, if you have to break +through a barrier of tradition and prejudice," said Madame d'Aragona, +reverting rather abruptly to the first subject. + +"You do not know what that means." Orsino shook his head incredulously. +"You have never tried it." + +"No. How could a woman be placed in such a position?" + +"That is just it. You cannot understand me." + +"That does not follow. Women often understand men--men they love or +detest--better than men themselves." + +"Do you love me, Madame?" asked Orsino with a smile. + +"I have just made your acquaintance," laughed Madame d'Aragona. "It is a +little too soon." + +"But then, according to you, if you understand me, you detest me." + +"Well? If I do?" She was still laughing. + +"Then I ought to disappear, I suppose." + +"You do not understand women. Anything is better than indifference. +When you see that you are disliked, then refuse to go away. It is the +very moment to remain. Do not submit to dislike. Revenge yourself." + +"I will try," said Orsino, considerably amused. + +"Upon me?" + +"Since you advise it--" + +"Have I said that I detest you?" + +"More or less." + +"It was only by way of illustration to my argument. I was not serious." + +"You have not a serious character, I fancy," said Orsino. + +"Do you dare to pass judgment on me after an hour's acquaintance?" + +"Since you have judged me! You have said five times that I am +enthusiastic." + +"That is an exaggeration. Besides, one cannot say a true thing too +often." + +"How you run on, Madame!" + +"And you--to tell me to my face that I am not serious! It is unheard of. +Is that the way you talk to your compatriots?" + +"It would not be true. But they would contradict me, as you do. They +wish to be thought gay." + +"Do they? I would like to know them." + +"Nothing is easier. Will you allow me the honour of undertaking the +matter?" + +They had reached the door of Madame d'Aragona's hotel. She stood still +and looked curiously at Orsino. + +"Certainly not," she answered, rather coldly. "It would be asking too +much of you--too much of society, and far too much of me. Thanks. +Good-bye." + +"May I come and see you?" asked Orsino. + +He knew very well that he had gone too far, and his voice was correctly +contrite. + +"I daresay we shall meet somewhere," she answered, entering the hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The rage of speculation was at its height in Rome. Thousands, perhaps +hundreds of thousands of persons were embarked in enterprises which soon +afterwards ended in total ruin to themselves and in very serious injury +to many of the strongest financial bodies in the country. Yet it is a +fact worth recording that the general principle upon which affairs were +conducted was an honest one. The land was a fact, the buildings put up +were facts, and there was actually a certain amount of capital, of +genuine ready money, in use. The whole matter can be explained in a few +words. + +The population of Rome had increased considerably since the Italian +occupation, and house-room was needed for the newcomers. Secondly, the +partial execution of the scheme for beautifying the city had destroyed +great numbers of dwellings in the most thickly populated parts, and more +house-room was needed to compensate the loss of habitations, while +extensive lots of land were suddenly set free and offered for sale upon +easy conditions in all parts of the town. + +Those who availed themselves of these opportunities before the general +rush began, realised immense profits, especially when they had some +capital of their own to begin with. But capital was not indispensable. A +man could buy his lot on credit; the banks were ready to advance him +money on notes of hand, in small amounts at high interest, wherewith to +build his house or houses. When the building was finished the bank took +a first mortgage upon the property, the owner let the house, paid the +interest on the mortgage out of the rent and pocketed the difference, as +clear gain. In the majority of eases it was the bank itself which sold +the lot of land to the speculator. It is clear therefore that the only +money which actually changed hands was that advanced in small sums by +the bank itself. + +As the speculation increased, the banks could not of course afford to +lock up all the small notes of hand they received from various quarters. +This paper became a circulating medium as far as Vienna, Paris and even +London. The crash came when Vienna, Paris and London lost faith in the +paper, owing, in the first instance, to one or two small failures, and +returned it upon Rome; the banks, unable to obtain cash for it at any +price, and being short of ready money, could then no longer discount the +speculator's further notes of hand; so that the speculator found himself +with half-built houses upon his hands which he could neither let, nor +finish, nor sell, and owing money upon bills which he had expected to +meet by giving the bank a mortgage on the now valueless property. + +That is what took place in the majority of cases, and it is not +necessary to go into further details, though of course chance played all +the usual variations upon the theme of ruin. + +What distinguishes the period of speculation in Rome from most other +manifestations of the kind in Europe is the prominent part played in it +by the old land-holding families, a number of which were ruined in wild +schemes which no sensible man of business would have touched. This was +more or less the result of recent changes in the laws regulating the +power of persons making a will. + +Previous to 1870 the law of primogeniture was as much respected in Rome +as in England, and was carried out with considerably greater strictness. +The heir got everything, the other children got practically nothing but +the smallest pittance. The palace, the gallery of pictures and statues, +the lands, the villages and the castles, descended in unbroken +succession from eldest son to eldest son, indivisible in principle and +undivided in fact. + +The new law requires that one half of the total property shall be +equally distributed by the testator amongst all his children. He may +leave the other half to any one he pleases, and as a matter of practice +he of course leaves it to his eldest son. + +Another law, however, forbids the alienation of all collections of works +of art either wholly or in part, if they have existed as such for a +certain length of time, and if the public has been admitted daily or on +any fixed days, to visit them. It is not in the power of the Borghese, +or the Colonna, for instance, to sell a picture or a statue out of their +galleries, nor to raise money upon such an object by mortgage or +otherwise. + +Yet these works of art figure at a very high valuation, in the total +property of which the testator must divide one half amongst his +children, though in point of fact they yield no income whatever. But it +is of no use to divide them, since none of the heirs could be at liberty +to take them away nor realise their value in any manner. + +The consequence is, that the principal heir, after the division has +taken place, finds himself the nominal master of certain enormously +valuable possessions, which in reality yield him nothing or next to +nothing. He also foresees that in the next generation the same state of +things will exist in a far higher degree, and that the position of the +head of the family will go from bad to worse until a crisis of some kind +takes place. + +Such a case has recently occurred. A certain Roman prince is bankrupt. +The sale of his gallery would certainly relieve the pressure, and would +possibly free him from debt altogether. But neither he nor his creditors +can lay a finger upon the pictures, nor raise a centime upon them. This +man, therefore, is permanently reduced to penury, and his creditors are +large losers, while he is still _de jure_ and _de facto_ the owner of +property probably sufficient to cover all his obligations. Fortunately, +he chances to be childless, a fact consoling, perhaps, to the +philanthropist, but not especially so to the sufferer himself. + +It is clear that the temptation to increase "distributable" property, +if one may coin such, an expression, is very great, and accounts for the +way in which many Roman gentlemen have rushed headlong into speculation, +though possessing none of the qualities necessary for success, and only +one of the requisites, namely, a certain amount of ready money, or free +and convertible property. A few have been fortunate, while the majority +of those who have tried the experiment have been heavy losers. It cannot +be said that any one of them all has shown natural talent for finance. + +Let the reader forgive these dry explanations if he can. The facts +explained have a direct bearing upon the story I am telling, but shall +not, as mere facts, be referred to again. + +I have already said that Ugo Del Ferice had returned to Rome soon after +the change, had established himself with his wife, Donna Tullia, and was +at the time I am speaking about, deeply engaged in the speculations of +the day. He had once been, tolerably popular in society, having been +looked upon as a harmless creature, useful in his way and very obliging. +But the circumstances which had attended his flight some years earlier +had become known, and most of his old acquaintances turned him the cold +shoulder. He had expected this and was neither disappointed nor +humiliated. He had made new friends and acquaintances during his exile, +and it was to his interest to stand by them. Like many of those who had +played petty and dishonourable parts in the revolutionary times, he had +succeeded in building up a reputation for patriotism upon a very slight +foundation, and had found persons willing to believe him a sufferer who +had escaped martyrdom for the cause, and had deserved the crown of +election to a constituency as a just reward of his devotion. The Romans +cared very little what became of him. The old Blacks confounded Victor +Emmanuel with Garibaldi, Cavour with Persiano, and Silvio Pellico with +Del Ferice in one sweeping condemnation, desiring nothing so much as +never to hear the hated names mentioned in their houses. The Grey +party, being also Roman, disapproved of Ugo on general principles and +particularly because he had been a spy, but the Whites, not being Romans +at all and entertaining an especial detestation for every distinctly +Roman opinion, received him at his own estimation, as society receives +most people who live in good houses, give good dinners and observe the +proprieties in the matter of visiting-cards. Those who knew anything +definite of the man's antecedents were mostly persons who had little +histories of their own, and they told no tales out of school. The great +personages who had once employed him would have been magnanimous enough +to acknowledge him in any case, but were agreeably disappointed when +they discovered that he was not amongst the common herd of pension +hunters, and claimed no substantial rewards save their politeness and a +line in the visiting lists of their wives. And as he grew in wealth and +importance they found that he could be useful still, as bank directors +and members of parliament can be, in a thousand ways. So it came to pass +that the Count and Countess Del Ferice became prominent persons in the +Roman world. + +Ugo was a man of undoubted talent. By his own individual efforts, though +with small scruple as to the means he employed, he had raised himself +from obscurity to a very enviable position. He had only once in his life +been carried away by the weakness of a personal enmity, and he had been +made to pay heavily for his caprice. If Donna Tullia had abandoned him +when he was driven out of Rome by the influence of the Saracinesca, he +might have disappeared altogether from the scene. But she was an odd +compound of rashness and foresight, of belief and unbelief, and she had +at that time felt herself bound by an oath she dared not break, besides +being attached to him by a hatred of Giovanni Saracinesca almost as +great as his own. She had followed him and had married him without +hesitation; but she had kept the undivided possession of her fortune +while allowing him a liberal use of her income. In return, she claimed +a certain liberty of action when she chose to avail herself of it. She +would not be bound in the choice of her acquaintances nor criticised in +the measure of like or dislike she bestowed upon them. She was by no +means wholly bad, and if she had a harmless fancy now and then, she +required her husband to treat her as above suspicion. On the whole, the +arrangement worked very well. Del Ferice, on his part, was unswervingly +faithful to her in word and deed, for he exhibited in a high degree that +unfaltering constancy which is bred of a permanent, unalienable, +financial interest. Bad men are often clever, but if their cleverness is +of a superior order they rarely do anything bad. It is true that when +they yield to the pressure of necessity their wickedness surpasses that +of other men in the same degree as their intelligence. Not only honesty, +but all virtue collectively, is the best possible policy, provided that +the politician can handle such a tremendous engine of evil as goodness +is in the hands of a thoroughly bad man. + +Those who desired pecuniary accommodation of the bank in which Del +Ferice had an interest, had no better friend than he. His power with the +directors seemed to be as boundless as his desire to assist the +borrower. But he was helpless to prevent the foreclosure of a mortgage, +and had been moved almost to tears in the expression of his sympathy +with the debtor and of his horror at the hard-heartedness shown by his +partners. To prove his disinterested spirit it only need be said that on +many occasions he had actually come forward as a private individual and +had taken over the mortgage himself, distinctly stating that he could +not hold it for more than a year, but expressing a hope that the debtor +might in that time retrieve himself. If this really happened, he earned +the man's eternal gratitude; if not, he foreclosed indeed, but the loser +never forgot that by Del Fence's kindness he had been offered a last +chance at a desperate moment. It could not be said to be Del Ferice's +fault that the second case was the more frequent one, nor that the +result to himself was profit in either event. + +In his dealings with his constituency he showed a noble desire for the +public welfare, for he was never known to refuse anything in reason to +the electors who applied to him. It is true that in the case of certain +applications, he consumed so much time in preliminary enquiries and +subsequent formalities that the applicants sometimes died and sometimes +emigrated to the Argentine Republic before the matter could be settled; +but they bore with them to South America--or to the grave--the belief +that the Onorevole Del Ferice was on their side, and the instances of +his prompt, decisive and successful action were many. He represented a +small town in the Neapolitan Province, and the benefits and advantages +he had obtained for it were numberless. The provincial high road had +been made to pass through it; all express trains stopped at its station, +though the passengers who made use of the inestimable privilege did not +average twenty in the month; it possessed a Piazza Vittorio Emmanuela, a +Corso Garibaldi, a Via Cavour, a public garden of at least a quarter of +an acre, planted with no less than twenty-five acacias and adorned by a +fountain representing a desperate-looking character in the act of firing +a finely executed revolver at an imaginary oppressor. Pigs were not +allowed within the limits of the town, and the uniforms of the municipal +brass band were perfectly new. Could civilisation do more? The bank of +which Del Ferice was a director bought the octroi duties of the town at +the periodical auction, and farmed them skilfully, together with those +of many other towns in the same province. + +So Del Ferice was a very successful man, and it need scarcely be said +that he was now not only independent of his wife's help but very much +richer than she had ever been. They lived in a highly decorated, +detached modern house in the new part of the city. The gilded gate +before the little plot of garden, bore their intertwined initials, +surmounted by a modest count's coronet. Donna Tullia would have +preferred a coat of arms, or even a crest, but Ugo was sensitive to +ridicule, and he was aware that a count's coronet in Rome means nothing +at all, whereas a coat of arms means vastly more than in most cities. + +Within, the dwelling was somewhat unpleasantly gorgeous. Donna Tullia +had always loved red, both for itself and because it made her own +complexion seem less florid by contrast, and accordingly red satin +predominated in the drawing-rooms, red velvet in the dining-room, red +damask in the hall and red carpets on the stairs. Some fine specimens of +gilding were also to be seen, and Del Ferice had been one of the first +to use electric light. Everything was new, expensive and polished to its +extreme capacity for reflection. The servants wore vivid liveries and on +formal occasions the butler appeared in short-clothes and black silk +stockings. Donna Tullia's equipage was visible at a great distance, but +Del Fence's own coachman and groom wore dark green with, black +epaulettes. + +On the morning which Orsino and Madame d'Aragona had spent in Gouache's +studio the Countess Del Ferice entered her husband's study in order to +consult him upon a rather delicate matter. He was alone, but busy as +usual. His attention was divided between an important bank operation and +a petition for his help in obtaining a decoration for the mayor of the +town he represented. The claim to this distinction seemed to rest +chiefly on the petitioner's unasked evidence in regard to his own moral +rectitude, yet Del Ferice was really exercising all his ingenuity to +discover some suitable reason for asking the favour. He laid the papers +down with a sigh as Donna Tullia came in. + +"Good morning, my angel," he said suavely, as he pointed to a chair at +his side--the one usually occupied at this hour by seekers for financial +support. "Have you rested well?" + +He never failed to ask the question. + +"Not badly, not badly, thank Heaven!" answered Donna Tullia. "I have a +dreadful cold, of course, and a headache--my head is really splitting." + +"Rest--rest is what you need, my dear--" + +"Oh, it is nothing. This Durakoff is a great man. If he had not made me +go to Carlsbad--I really do not know. But I have something to say to +you. I want your help, Ugo. Please listen to me." + +Ugo's fat white face already expressed anxious attention. To accentuate +the expression of his readiness to listen, he now put all his papers +into a drawer and turned towards his wife. + +"I must go to the Jubilee," said Donna Tullia, coming to the point. + +"Of course you must go--" + +"And I must have my seat among the Roman ladies" + +"Of course you must," repeated Del Ferice with a little less alacrity. + +"Ah! You see. It is not so easy. You know it is not. Yet I have as good +a right to my seat as any one--better perhaps." + +"Hardly that," observed Ugo with a smile. "When you married me, my +angel, you relinquished your claims to a seat at the Vatican functions." + +"I did nothing of the kind. I never said so, I am sure." + +"Perhaps if you could make that clear to the majorduomo--" + +"Absurd, Ugo. You know it is. Besides, I will not beg. You must get me +the seat. You can do anything with your influence." + +"You could easily get into one of the diplomatic tribunes," observed +Ugo. + +"I will not go there. I mean to assert myself. I am a Roman lady and I +will have my seat, and you must get it for me." + +"I will do my best. But I do not quite see where I am to begin. It will +need time and consideration and much tact." + +"It seems to me very simple. Go to one of the clerical deputies and say +that you want the ticket for your wife--" + +"And then?" + +"Give him to understand that you will vote for his next measure. Nothing +could be simpler, I am sure." + +Del Ferice smiled blandly at his wife's ideas of parliamentary +diplomacy. + +"There are no clerical deputies in the parliament of the nation. If +there were the thing might be possible, and it would be very interesting +to all the clericals to read an account of the transaction in the +Osservatore Romano. In any case, I am not sure that it will be much to +our advantage that the wife of the Onorevole Del Ferice should be seen +seated in the midst of the Black ladies. It will produce an unfavourable +impression." + +"If you are going to talk of impressions--" Donna Tullia shrugged her +massive shoulders. + +"No, my dear. You mistake me. I am not going to talk of them, because, +as I at once told you, it is quite right that you should go to this +affair. If you go, you must go in the proper way. No doubt there will be +people who will have invitations but will not use them. We can perhaps +procure you the use of such a ticket." + +"I do not care what name is on the paper, provided I can sit in the +right place." + +"Very well," answered Del Ferice. "I will do my best." + +"I expect it of you, Ugo. It is not often that I ask anything of you, is +it? It is the least you can do. The idea of getting a card that is not +to be used is good; of course they will all get them, and some of them +are sure to be ill." + +Donna Tullia went away satisfied that what she wanted would be +forthcoming at the right moment. What she had said was true. She rarely +asked anything of her husband. But when she did, she gave him to +understand that she would have it at any price. It was her way of +asserting herself from time to time. On the present occasion she had no +especial interest at stake and any other woman might have been satisfied +with a seat in the diplomatic tribune, which could probably have been +obtained without great difficulty. But she had heard that the seats +there were to be very high and she did not really wish to be placed in +too prominent a position. The light might be unfavourable, and she knew +that she was subject to growing very red in places where it was hot. She +had once been a handsome woman and a very vain one, but even her vanity +could not survive the daily shock of the looking-glass torture. To sit +for four or five hours in a high light, facing fifty thousand people, +was more than she could bear with equanimity. + +Del Ferice, being left to himself, returned to the question of the +mayor's decoration which was of vastly greater importance to him than +his wife's position at the approaching function. If he failed to get the +man what he wanted, the fellow would doubtless apply to some one of the +opposite party, would receive the coveted honour and would take the +whole voting population of the town with him at the next general +election, to the total discomfiture of Del Ferice. It was necessary to +find some valid reason for proposing him for the distinction. Ugo could +not decide what to do just then, but he ultimately hit upon a successful +plan. He advised his correspondent to write a pamphlet upon the rapid +improvement of agricultural interests in his district under the existing +ministry, and he even went so far as to enclose with his letter some +notes on the subject. These notes proved to be so voluminous and +complete that when the mayor had copied them he could not find a pretext +for adding a single word or correction. They were printed upon excellent +paper, with ornamental margins, under the title of "Onward, +Parthenope!" Of course every one knows that Parthenope means Naples, the +Neapolitans and the Neapolitan Province, a siren of that name having +come to final grief somewhere between the Chiatamone and Posilippo. The +mayor got his decoration, and Del Ferice was re-elected; but no one has +inquired into the truth of the statements made in the pamphlet upon +agriculture. + +It is clear that a man who was capable of taking so much trouble for so +small a matter would not disappoint his wife when she had set her heart +upon such a trifle as a ticket for the Jubilee. Within three days he had +the promise of what he wanted. A certain lonely lady of high position +lay very ill just then, and it need scarcely be explained that her +confidential servant fell upon the invitation as soon as it arrived and +sold it for a round sum to the first applicant, who happened to be Count +Del Ferice's valet. So the matter was arranged, privately and without +scandal. + +All Rome was alive with expectation. The date fixed was the first of +January, and as the day approached the curious foreigner mustered in his +thousands and tens of thousands and took the city by storm. The hotels +were thronged. The billiard tables were let as furnished rooms, people +slept in the lifts, on the landings, in the porters' lodges. The thrifty +Romans retreated to roofs and cellars and let their small dwellings. +People reaching the city on the last night slept in the cabs they had +hired to take them to St. Peter's before dawn. Even the supplies of food +ran low and the hungry fed on what they could get, while the delicate of +taste very often did not feed at all. There was of course the usual +scare about a revolutionary demonstration, to which the natives paid +very little attention, but which delighted the foreigners. + +Not more than half of those who hoped to witness the ceremony saw +anything of it, though the basilica will hold some eighty thousand +people at a pinch, and the crowd on that occasion was far greater than +at the opening of the Oecumenical Council in 1869. + +Madame d'Aragona had also determined to be present, and she expressed +her desire to Gouache. She had spoken the strict truth when she had said +that she knew no one in Rome, and so far as general accuracy is +concerned it was equally true that she had not fixed the length of her +stay. She had not come with any settled purpose beyond a vague idea of +having her portrait painted by the French artist, and unless she took +the trouble to make acquaintances, there was nothing attractive enough +about the capital to keep her. She allowed herself to be driven about +the town, on pretence of seeing churches and galleries, but in reality +she saw very little of either. She was preoccupied with her own thoughts +and subject to fits of abstraction. Most things seemed to her intensely +dull, and the unhappy guide who had been selected to accompany her on +her excursions, wasted his learning upon her on the first morning, and +subsequently exhausted the magnificent catalogue of impossibilities +which he had concocted for the especial benefit of the uncultivated +foreigner, without eliciting so much as a look of interest or an +expression of surprise. He was a young and fascinating guide, wearing a +white satin tie, and on the third day he recited some verses of +Stecchetti and was about to risk a declaration of worship in ornate +prose, when he was suddenly rather badly scared by the lady's yellow +eyes, and ran on nervously with a string of deceased popes and their +dates. + +"Get me a card for the Jubilee," she said abruptly. + +"An entrance is very easily procured," answered the guide. "In fact I +have one in my pocket, as it happens. I bought it for twenty francs this +morning, thinking that one of my foreigners would perhaps take it of me. +I do not even gain a franc--my word of honour." + +Madame d'Aragona glanced at the slip of paper. + +"Not that," she answered. "Do you imagine that I will stand? I want a +seat in one of the tribunes." + +The guide lost himself in apologies, but explained that he could not +get what she desired. + +"What are you for?" she inquired. + +She was an indolent woman, but when by any chance she wanted anything, +Donna Tullia herself was not more restless. She drove at once to +Gouache's studio. He was alone and she told him what she needed. + +"The Jubilee, Madame? Is it possible that you have been forgotten?" + +"Since they have never heard of me! I have not the slightest claim to a +place." + +"It is you who say that. But your place is already secured. Fear +nothing. You will be with the Roman ladies." + +"I do not understand--" + +"It is simple. I was thinking of it yesterday. Young Saracinesca comes +in and begins to talk about you. There is Madame d'Aragona who has no +seat, he says. One must arrange that. So it is arranged." + +"By Don Orsino?" + +"You would not accept? No. A young man, and you have only met once. But +tell me what you think of him. Do you like him?" + +"One does not like people so easily as that," said Madame d'Aragona, +"How have you arranged about the seat?" + +"It is very simple. There are to be two days, you know. My wife has her +cards for both, of course. She will only go once. If you will accept the +one for the first day, she will be very happy." + +"You are angelic, my dear friend! Then I go as your wife?" She laughed. + +"Precisely. You will be Faustina Gouache instead of Madame d'Aragona." + +"How delightful! By the bye, do not call me Madame d'Aragona. It is not +my name. I might as well call you Monsieur de Paris, because you are a +Parisian." + +"I do not put Anastase Gouache de Paris on my cards," answered Gouache +with a laugh. "What may I call you? Donna Maria?" + +"My name is Maria Consuelo d'Aranjuez." + +"An ancient Spanish name," said Gouache. + +"My husband was an Italian." + +"Ah! Of Spanish descent, originally of Aragona. Of course." + +"Exactly. Since I am here, shall I sit for you? You might almost finish +to-day." + +"Not so soon as that. It is Don Orsino's hour, but as he has not come, +and since you are so kind--by all means." + +"Ah! Is he punctual?" + +"He is probably running after those abominable dogs in pursuit of the +feeble fox--what they call the noble sport." + +Gouache's face expressed considerable disgust." + +"Poor fellow!" said Maria Consuelo. "He has nothing else to do." + +"He will get used to it. They all do. Besides, it is really the natural +condition of man. Total idleness is his element. If Providence meant man +to work, it should have given him two heads, one for his profession and +one for himself. A man needs one entire and undivided intelligence for +the study of his own individuality." + +"What an idea!" + +"Do not men of great genius notoriously forget themselves, forget to eat +and drink and dress themselves like Christians? That is because they +have not two heads. Providence expects a man to do two things at +once--an air from an opera and invent the steam-engine at the same +moment. Nature rebels. Then Providence and Nature do not agree. What +becomes of religion? It is all a mystery. Believe me, Madame, art is +easier than, nature, and painting is simpler than theology." + +Maria Consuelo listened to Gouache's extraordinary remarks with a smile. + +"You are either paradoxical, or irreligious, or both," she said. + +"Irreligious? I, who carried a rifle at Mentana? No, Madame, I am a good +Catholic." + +"What does that mean?" + +"I believe in God, and I love my wife. I leave it to the Church to +define my other articles of belief. I have only one head, as you see." + +Gouache smiled, but there was a note of sincerity in the odd statement +which did not escape his hearer. + +"You are not of the type which belongs to the end of the century," she +said. + +"That type was not invented when I was forming myself." + +"Perhaps you belong rather to the coming age--the age of +simplification." + +"As distinguished from the age of mystification--religious, political, +scientific and artistic," suggested Gouache. "The people of that day +will guess the Sphynx's riddle." + +"Mine? You were comparing me to a sphynx the other day." + +"Yours, perhaps, Madame. Who knows? Are you the typical woman of the +ending century?" + +"Why not?" asked Maria Consuelo with a sleepy look. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +There is something grand in any great assembly of animals belonging to +the same race. The very idea of an immense number of living creatures +conveys an impression not suggested by anything else. A compact herd of +fifty or sixty thousand lions would be an appalling vision, beside which +a like multitude of human beings would sink into insignificance. A drove +of wild cattle is, I think, a finer sight than a regiment of cavalry in +motion, for the cavalry is composite, half man and half horse, whereas +the cattle have the advantage of unity. But we can never see so many +animals of any species driven together into one limited space as to be +equal to a vast throng of men and women, and we conclude naturally +enough that a crowd consisting solely of our own kind is the most +imposing one conceivable. + +It was scarcely light on the morning of New Year's Day when the Princess +Sant' Ilario found herself seated in one of the low tribunes on the +north side of the high altar in Saint Peter's. Her husband and her +eldest son had accompanied her, and having placed her in a position from +which they judged she could easily escape at the end of the ceremony, +they remained standing in the narrow, winding passage between improvised +barriers which led from the tribune to the door of the sacristy, and +which had been so arranged as to prevent confusion. Here they waited, +greeting their acquaintances when they could recognise them in the dim +twilight of the church, and watching the ever-increasing crowd that +surged slowly backward and forward outside the barrier. The old prince +was entitled by an hereditary office to a place in the great procession +of the day, and was not now with them. + +Orsino felt as though the whole world were assembled about him within +the huge cathedral, as though its heart were beating audibly and its +muffled breathing rising and falling in his hearing. The unceasing sound +that went up from the compact mass of living beings was soft in quality, +but enormous in volume and sustained in tone, a great whispering which, +might have been heard a mile away. One hears in mammoth musical +festivals the extraordinary effect of four or five thousand voices +singing very softly; it is not to be compared to the unceasing whisper +of fifty thousand men. + +The young fellow was conscious of a strange, irregular thrill of +enthusiasm which ran through him from time to time and startled his +imagination into life. It was only the instinct of a strong vitality +unconsciously longing to be the central point of the vitalities around +it. But he could not understand that. It seemed to him like a great +opportunity brought "within reach but slipping by untaken, not to return +again. He felt a strange, almost uncontrollable longing to spring upon +one of the tribunes, to raise his voice, to speak to the great +multitude, to fire all those men to break out and carry everything +before them. He laughed audibly at himself. Sant' Ilario looked at his +son with some curiosity. + +"What amuses you?" he asked. + +"A dream," answered Orsino, still smiling. "Who knows?" he exclaimed +after a pause. "What would happen, if at the right moment the right man +could stir such a crowd as this?" + +"Strange things," replied Sant' Ilario gravely. "A crowd is a terrible +weapon." + +"Then my dream was not so foolish after all. One might make history +to-day." + +Sant' Ilario made a gesture expressive of indifference. + +"What is history?" he asked. "A comedy in which the actors have no +written parts, but improvise their speeches and actions as best they +can. That is the reason why history is so dull and so full of mistakes." + +"And of surprises," suggested Orsino. + +"The surprises in history are always disagreeable, my boy," answered +Sant' Ilario. + +Orsino felt the coldness in the answer and felt even more his father's +readiness to damp any expression of enthusiasm. Of late he had +encountered this chilling indifference at almost every turn, whenever he +gave vent to his admiration for any sort of activity. + +It was not that Giovanni Saracinesca had any intention of repressing his +son's energetic instincts, and he assuredly had no idea of the effect +his words often produced. He sometimes wondered at the sudden silence +which came over the young man after such conversations, but he did not +understand it and on the whole paid little attention to it. He +remembered that he himself had been different, and had been wont to +argue hotly and not unfrequently to quarrel with his father about +trifles. He himself had been headstrong, passionate, often intractable +in his early youth, and his father had been no better at sixty and was +little improved in that respect even at his present great age. But +Orsino did not argue. He suggested, and if any one disagreed with him he +became silent. He seemed to possess energy in action, and a number of +rather fantastic aspirations, but in conversation he was easily silenced +and in outward manner he would have seemed too yielding if he had not +often seemed too cold. + +Giovanni did not see that Orsino was most like his mother in character, +while the contact with a new generation had given him something +unfamiliar to the old, an affectation at first, but one which habit was +amalgamating with the real nature beneath. + +No doubt, it was wise and right to discourage ideas which would tend in +any way to revolution. Giovanni had seen revolutions and had been the +loser by them. It was not wise and was certainly not necessary to throw +cold water on the young fellow's harmless aspirations. But Giovanni had +lived for many years in his own way, rich, respected and supremely +happy, and he believed that his way was good enough for Orsino. He had, +in his youth, tried most things for himself, and had found them failures +so far as happiness was concerned. Orsino might make the series of +experiments in his turn if he pleased, but there was no adequate reason +for such an expenditure of energy. The sooner the boy loved some girl +who would make him a good wife, and the sooner he married her, the +sooner he would find that calm, satisfactory existence which had not +finally come to Giovanni until after thirty years of age. + +As for the question of fortune, it was true that there were four sons, +but there was Giovanni's mother's fortune, there was Corona's fortune, +and there was the great Saracinesca estate behind both. They were all so +extremely rich that the deluge must be very distant. + +Orsino understood none of these things. He only realised that his father +had the faculty and apparently the intention of freezing any originality +he chanced to show, and he inwardly resented the coldness, quietly, if +foolishly, resolving to astonish those who misunderstood him by seizing +the first opportunity of doing something out of the common way. For some +time he stood in silence watching the people who came by and glancing +from time to time at the dense crowd outside the barrier. He was +suddenly aware that his father was observing intently a lady who +advanced along the open, way. + +"There is Tullia Del Ferice!" exclaimed Sant' Ilario in surprise. + +"I do not know her, except by sight," observed Orsino indifferently. + +The countess was very imposing in her black veil and draperies. Her red +face seemed to lose its colour in the dim church and she affected a slow +and stately manner more becoming to her weight than was her natural +restless vivacity. She had got what she desired and she swept proudly +along to take her old place among the ladies of Rome. No one knew whose +card she had delivered up at the entrance to the sacristy, and she +enjoyed the triumph of showing that the wife of the revolutionary, the +banker, the member of parliament, had not lost caste after all. + +She looked Giovanni full in the face with her disagreeable blue eyes as +she came up, apparently not meaning to recognise him. Then, just as she +passed him, she deigned to make a very slight inclination of the head, +just enough to compel Sant' Ilario to return the salutation. It was very +well done. Orsino did not know all the details of the past events, but +he knew that his father had once wounded Del Ferice in a duel and he +looked at Del Fence's wife with some curiosity. He had seldom had an +opportunity of being so near to her. + +"It was certainly not about her that they fought," he reflected. "It +must have been about some other woman, if there was a woman in the +question at all." + +A moment later he was aware that a pair of tawny eyes was fixed on him. +Maria Consuelo was following Donna Tullia at a distance of a dozen +yards. Orsino came forward and his new acquaintance held out her hand. +They had not met since they had first seen each other. + +"It was so kind of you," she said. + +"What, Madame?" + +"To suggest this to Gouache. I should have had no ticket--where shall I +sit?" + +Orsino did not understand, for though he had mentioned the subject, +Gouache had not told him what he meant to do. But there was no time to +be lost in conversation. Orsino led her to the nearest opening in the +tribune and pointed to a seat. + +"I called," he said quickly. "You did not receive--" + +"Come again, I will be at home," she answered in a low voice, as she +passed him. + +She sat down in a vacant place beside Donna Tullia, and Orsino noticed +that his mother was just behind them both. Corona had been watching him +unconsciously, as she often did, and was somewhat surprised to see him +conducting a lady whom she did not know. A glance told her that the lady +was a foreigner; as such, if she were present at all, she should have +been in the diplomatic tribune. There was nothing to think of, and +Corona tried to solve the small social problem that presented itself. +Orsino strolled back to his father's side. + +"Who is she?" inquired Sant' Ilario with some curiosity. + +"The lady who wanted the tiger's skin--Aranjuez--I told you of her." + +"The portrait you gave me was not flattering. She is handsome, if not +beautiful." + +"Did I say she was not?" asked Orsino with a visible irritation most +unlike him. + +"I thought so. You said she had yellow eyes, red hair and a squint." +Sant' Ilario laughed. + +"Perhaps I did. But the effect seems to be harmonious." + +"Decidedly so. You might have introduced me." + +To this Orsino said nothing, but relapsed into a moody silence. He would +have liked nothing better than to bring about the acquaintance, but he +had only met Maria Consuelo once, though that interview had been a long +one, and he remembered her rather short answer to his offer of service +in the way of making acquaintances. + +Maria Consuelo on her part was quite unconscious that she was sitting in +front of the Princess Sant' Ilario, but she had seen the lady by her +side bow to Orsino's companion in passing, and she guessed from a +certain resemblance that the dark, middle-aged man might be young +Saracinesca's father. Donna Tullia had seen Corona well enough, but as +they had not spoken for nearly twenty years she decided not to risk a +nod where she could not command an acknowledgment of it. So she +pretended to be quite unconscious of her old enemy's presence. + +Donna Tullia, however, had noticed as she turned her head in sitting +down that Orsino was piloting a strange lady to the tribune, and when +the latter sat down beside her, she determined to make her acquaintance, +no matter upon what pretext. The time was approaching at which the +procession was to make its appearance, and Donna. Tullia looked about +for something upon which to open the conversation, glancing from time to +time at her neighbour. It was easy to see that the place and the +surroundings were equally unfamiliar to the newcomer, who looked with +evident interest at the twisted columns of the high altar, at the vast +mosaics in the dome, at the red damask hangings of the nave, at the +Swiss guards, the chamberlains in court dress and at all the +mediĉval-looking, motley figures that moved about within the space kept +open for the coming function. + +"It is a wonderful sight," said Donna Tullia in Trench, very softly, +and almost as though speaking to herself. + +"Wonderful indeed," answered Maria Consuelo, "especially to a stranger." + +"Madame is a stranger, then," observed Donna Tullia with an agreeable +smile. + +She looked into her neighbour's face and for the first time realised +that she was a striking person. + +"Quite," replied the latter, briefly, and as though not wishing to press +the conversation. + +"I fancied so," said Donna Tullia, "though on seeing you in these seats, +among us Romans--" + +"I received a card through the kindness of a friend." + +There was a short pause, during which Donna Tullia concluded that the +friend must have been Orsino. But the next remark threw her off the +scent. + +"It was his wife's ticket, I believe," said Maria Consuelo. "She could +not come. I am here on false pretences." She smiled carelessly. + +Donna Tullia lost herself in speculation, but failed to solve the +problem. + +"You have chosen a most favourable moment for your first visit to Rome," +she remarked at last. + +"Yes. I am always fortunate. I believe I have seen everything worth +seeing ever since I was a little girl." + +"She is somebody," thought Donna Tullia. "Probably the wife of a +diplomatist, though. Those people see everything, and talk of nothing +but what they have seen." + +"This is historic," she said aloud. "You will have a chance of +contemplating the Romans in their glory. Colonna and Orsini marching +side by side, and old Saracinesca in all his magnificence. He is +eighty-two year old." + +"Saracinesca?" repeated Maria Consuelo, turning her tawny eyes upon her +neighbour. + +"Yes. The father of Sant' Ilario--grandfather of that young fellow who +showed you to your seat." + +"Don Orsino? Yes, I know him slightly." + +Corona, sitting immediately behind them heard her son's name. As the two +ladies turned towards each other in conversation she heard distinctly +what they said. Donna Tullia was of course aware of this. + +"Do you?" she asked. "His father is a most estimable man--just a little +too estimable, if you understand! As for the boy--" + +Donna Tullia moved, her broad shoulders expressively. It was a habit of +which even the irreproachable Del Ferice could not cure her. Corona's +face darkened. + +"You can hardly call him a boy," observed Maria Consuelo with a smile. + +"Ah well--I might have been his mother," Donna Tullia answered with a +contempt for the affectation of youth which she rarely showed. But +Corona began to understand that the conversation was meant for her ears, +and grew angry by degrees. Donna Tullia had indeed been near to marrying +Giovanni, and in that sense, too, she might have been Orsino's mother. + +"I fancied you spoke rather disparagingly," said Maria Consuelo with a +certain degree of interest. + +"I? No indeed. On the contrary, Don Orsino is a very fine fellow--but +thrown away, positively thrown away in his present surroundings. Of what +use is all this English education--but you are a stranger, Madame, you +cannot understand our Roman point of view." + +"If you could explain it to me, I might, perhaps," suggested the other. + +"Ah yes--if I could explain it! But I am far too ignorant myself--no, +ignorant is not the word--too prejudiced, perhaps, to make you see it +quite as it is. Perhaps I am a little too liberal, and the Saracinesca +are certainly far too conservative. They mistake education for progress. +Poor Don Orsino, I am sorry for him." + +Donna Tullia found no other escape from the difficulty into which she +had thrown herself. + +"I did not know that he was to be pitied," said Maria Consuelo. + +"Oh, not he in particular, perhaps," answered the stout countess, +growing more and more vague. "They are all to be pitied, you know. What +is to become of young men brought up in that way? The club, the turf, +the card-table--to drink, to gamble, to bet, it is not an existence!" + +"Do you mean that Don Orsino leads that sort of life?" inquired Maria +Consuelo indifferently. + +Again Donna Tullia's heavy shoulders moved contemptuously. + +"What else is there for him to do?" + +"And his father? Did he not do likewise in his youth?" + +"His father? Ah, he was different--before he married--full of life, +activity, originality!" + +"And since his marriage?" + +"He has become estimable, most estimable." The smile with which Donna +Tullia accompanied the statement was intended to be fine, but was only +spiteful. Maria Consuelo, who saw everything with her sleepy glance, +noticed the fact. + +Corona was disgusted, and leaned back in her seat, as far as possible, +in order not to hear more. She could not help wondering who the strange +lady might be to whom Donna Tullia was so freely expressing her opinions +concerning the Saracinesca, and she determined to ask Orsino after the +ceremony. But she wished to hear as little more as she could. + +"When a married man becomes what you call estimable," said Donna +Tullia's companion, "he either adores his wife or hates her." + +"What a charming idea!" laughed the countess. It Was tolerably evident +that the remark was beyond her. + +"She is stupid," thought Maria Consuelo. "I fancied so from the first. I +will ask Don Orsino about her. He will say something amusing. It will be +a subject of conversation at all events, in place of that endless tiger +I invented the other day. I wonder whether this woman expects me to +tell her who I am? That will amount to an acquaintance. She is certainly +somebody, or she would not be here. On the other hand, she seems to +dislike the only man I know besides Gouache. That may lead to +complications. Let us talk of Gouache first, and be guided by +circumstances." + +"Do you know Monsieur Gouache?" she inquired, abruptly. + +"The painter? Yes--I have known him a long time. Is he perhaps painting +your portrait?" + +"Exactly. It is really for that purpose that I am in Rome. What a +charming man!" + +"Do you think so? Perhaps he is. He painted me some time ago. I was not +very well satisfied. But he has talent." + +Donna Tullia had never forgiven the artist for not putting enough soul +into the picture he had painted of her when she was a very young widow. + +"He has a great reputation," said Maria Consuelo, "and I think he will +succeed very well with me. Besides, I am grateful to him. He and his +painting have been a pleasant episode in my short stay here." + +"Really, I should hardly have thought you could find it worth your while +to come all the way to Rome to be painted by Gouache," observed Donna +Tullia. "But of course, as I say, he has talent." + +"This woman is rich," she said to herself. "The wives of diplomatists do +not allow themselves such caprices, as a rule. I wonder who she is?" + +"Great talent," assented Maria Consuelo. "And great charm, I think." + +"Ah well--of course--I daresay. We Romans cannot help thinking that for +an artist he is a little too much occupied in being a gentleman--and for +a gentleman he is quite too much an artist." + +The remark was not original with Donna Tullia, but had been reported to +her as Spicca's, and Spicca had really said something similar about +somebody else. + +"I had not got that impression," said Maria Consuelo, quietly. + +"She hates him, too," she thought. "She seems to hate everybody. That +either means that she knows everybody, or is not received in society." + +"But of course you know him better than I do," she added aloud, after a +little pause. + +At that moment a strain of music broke out above the great, soft, +muffled whispering that filled the basilica. Some thirty chosen voices +of the choir of Saint Peter's had begun the hymn "Tu es Petrus," as the +procession began to defile from the south aisle into the nave, close by +the great door, to traverse the whole distance thence to the high altar. +The Pope's own choir, consisting solely of the singers of the Sixtine +Chapel, waited silently behind the lattice under the statue of Saint +Veronica. + +The song rang out louder and louder, simple and grand. Those who have +heard Italian singers at their best know that thirty young Roman throats +can emit a volume of sound equal to that which a hundred men of any +other nation could produce. The stillness around them increased, too, as +the procession lengthened. The great, dark crowd stood shoulder to +shoulder, breathless with expectation, each man and woman feeling for a +few short moments that thrill of mysterious anxiety and impatience which +Orsino had felt. No one who was there can ever forget what followed. +More than forty cardinals filed out in front from the Chapel of the +Pietà. Then the hereditary assistants of the Holy See, the heads of the +Colonna and the Orsini houses, entered the nave, side by side for the +first time, I believe, in history. Immediately after them, high above +all the procession and the crowd, appeared the great chair of state, the +huge white feathered fans moving slowly on each side, and upon the +throne, the central figure of that vast display, sat the Pope, Leo the +Thirteenth. + +Then, without warning and without hesitation, a shout went up such as +has never been heard before in that dim cathedral, nor will, perhaps, be +heard again. + +"_Viva il Papa-Rè!_ Long life to the Pope-King!" + +At the same instant, as though at a preconcerted signal--utterly +impossible in such a throng--in the twinkling of an eye, the dark crowd +was as white as snow. In every hand a white handkerchief was raised, +fluttering and waving above every head. + +And the shout once taken up, drowned the strong voices of the singers as +long-drawn thunder drowns the pattering of the raindrops and the sighing +of the wind. + +The wonderful face, that seemed to be carved out of transparent +alabaster, smiled and slowly turned from side to side as it passed by. +The thin, fragile hand moved unceasingly, blessing the people. + +Orsino Saracinesca saw and heard, and his young face turned pale while +his lips set themselves. By his side, a head shorter than he, stood his +father, lost in thought as he gazed at the mighty spectacle of what had +been, and of what might still have been, but for one day of history's +surprises. + +Orsino said nothing, but he glanced at Sant' Ilario's face as though to +remind his father of what he had said half an hour earlier; and the +elder man knew that there had been truth in the boy's words. There were +soldiers in the church, and they were not Italian soldiers--some +thousands of them in all, perhaps. They were armed, and there were at +the very least computation thirty thousand strong, grown men in the +crowd. And the crowd was on fire. Had there been a hundred, nay a score, +of desperate, devoted leaders there, who knows what bloody work might +not have been done in the city before the sun went down? Who knows what +new surprises history might have found for her play? The thought must +have crossed many minds at that moment. But no one stirred; the +religious ceremony remained a religious ceremony and nothing more; holy +peace reigned within the walls, and the hour of peril glided away +undisturbed to take its place among memories of good. + +"The world is worn out!" thought Orsino. "The days of great deeds are +over. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die--they are right in +teaching me their philosophy." + +A gloomy, sullen melancholy took hold of the boy's young nature, a +passing mood, perhaps, but one which left its mark upon him. For he was +at that age when a very little thing will turn the balance of a +character, when an older man's thoughtless words may direct half a +lifetime in a good or evil channel, being recalled and repeated for a +score of years. Who is it that does not remember that day when an +impatient "I will," or a defiant "I will not," turned the whole current +of his existence in the one direction or the other, towards good or +evil, or towards success or failure? Who, that has fought his way +against odds into the front rank, has forgotten the woman's look that +gave him courage, or the man's sneer that braced nerve and muscle to +strike the first of many hard blows? + +The depression which fell upon Orsino was lasting, for that morning at +least. The stupendous pageant went on before him, the choirs sang, the +sweet boys' voices answered back, like an angel's song, out of the lofty +dome, the incense rose in columns through the streaming sunlight as the +high mass proceeded. Again the Pope was raised upon the chair and borne +out into the nave, whence in the solemn silence the thin, clear, aged +voice intoned the benediction three times, slowly rising and falling, +pausing and beginning again. Once more the enormous shout broke out, +louder and deeper than ever, as the procession moved away. Then all was +over. + +Orsino saw and heard, but the first impression was gone, and the thrill +did not come back. + +"It was a fine sight," he said to his father, as the shout died away. + +"A fine sight? Have you no stronger expression than that?" + +"No," answered Orsino, "I have not." + +The ladies were already coming out of the tribunes, and Orsino saw his +father give his arm to Corona to lead her through the crowd. Naturally +enough, Maria Consuelo and Donna Tullia came out together very soon +after her. Orsino offered to pilot the former through the confusion, and +she accepted gratefully. Donna Tullia walked beside them. + +"You do not know me, Don Orsino," said she with a gracious smile. + +"I beg your pardon--you are the Countess Del Ferice--I have not been +back from England long, and have not had an opportunity of being +presented." + +Whatever might be Orsino's weaknesses, shyness was certainly not one of +them, and as he made the civil answer he calmly looked at Donna Tullia +as though to inquire what in the world she wished to accomplish in +making his acquaintance. He had been so situated during the ceremony as +not to see that the two ladies had fallen into conversation. + +"Will you introduce me?" said Maria Consuelo. "We have been talking +together." + +She spoke in a low voice, but the words could hardly have escaped Donna +Tullia. Orsino was very much surprised and not by any means pleased, for +he saw that the elder woman had forced the introduction by a rather +vulgar trick. Nevertheless, he could not escape. + +"Since you have been good enough to recognise me," he said rather +stiffly to Donna Tullia, "permit me to make you acquainted with Madame +d'Aranjuez d'Aragona." + +Both ladies nodded and smiled the smile of the newly introduced. Donna +Tullia at once began to wonder how it was that a person with such a name +should have but a plain "Madame" to put before it. But her curiosity was +not satisfied on this occasion. + +"How absurd society is!" she exclaimed. "Madame d'Aranjuez and I have +been talking all the morning, quite like old friends--and now we need an +introduction!" + +Maria Consuelo glanced at Orsino as though, expecting him to make some +remark. But he said nothing. + +"What should we do without conventions!" she said, for the sake of +saying something. + +By this time they were threading the endless passages of the sacristy +building, on their way to the Piazza Santa, Marta. Sant' Ilario and +Corona were not far in front of them. At a turn in the corridor Corona +looked back. + +"There is Orsino talking to Tullia Del Ferice!" she exclaimed in great +surprise. "And he has given his arm to that other lady who was next to +her in the tribune." + +"What does it matter?" asked Sant' Ilario indifferently. "By the bye, +the other lady is that Madame d'Aranjuez he talks about." + +"Is she any relation of your mother's family, Giovanni?" + +"Not that I am aware of. She may have married some younger son of whom I +never heard." + +"You do not seem to care whom Orsino knows," said Corona rather +reproachfully. + +"Orsino is grown up, dear. You must not forget that." + +"Yes--I suppose he is," Corona answered with a little sigh. "But surely +you will not encourage him to cultivate the Del Ferice!" + +"I fancy it would take a deal of encouragement to drive him to that," +said Sant' Ilario with a laugh. "He has better taste." + +There was some confusion outside. People were waiting for their +carriages, and as most of them knew each other intimately every one was +talking at once. Donna Tullia nodded here and there, but Maria Consuelo +noticed that her salutations were coldly returned. Orsino and his two +companions stood a little aloof from the crowd. Just then the +Saracinesca carriage drove up. + +"Who is that magnificent woman?" asked Maria Consuelo, as Corona got in. + +"My mother," said Orsino. "My father is getting in now." + +"There comes my carriage! Please help me." + +A modest hired brougham made its appearance. Orsino hoped that Madame +d'Aranjuez would offer him a seat. But he was mistaken. + +"I am afraid mine is miles away," said Donna Tullia. "Good-bye, I shall +be so glad if you will come and see me." She held out her hand. + +"May I not take you home?" asked Maria Consuelo. "There is just room--it +will be better than waiting here." + +Donna Tullia hesitated a moment, and then accepted, to Orsino's great +annoyance. He helped the two ladies to get in, and shut the door. + +"Come soon," said Maria Consuelo, giving him her hand out of the window. + +He was inclined to be angry, but the look that accompanied the +invitation did its work satisfactorily. + +"He is very young," thought Maria Consuelo, as she drove away. + +"She can be very amusing. It is worth while," said Orsino to himself as +he passed in front of the next carriage, and walked out upon the small +square. + +He had not gone far, hindered as he was at every step, when some one +touched his arm. It was Spicca, looking more cadaverous and exhausted +than usual. + +"Are you going home in a cab?" he asked. "Then let us go together." + +They got out of the square, scarcely knowing how they had accomplished +the feat. Spicca seemed nervous as well as tired, and he leaned on +Orsino's arm. + +"There was a chance lost this morning," said the latter when they were +under the colonnade. He felt sure of a bitter answer from the keen old +man. + +"Why did you not seize it then?" asked Spicca. "Do you expect old men +like me to stand up and yell for a republic, or a restoration, or a +monarchy, or whichever of the other seven plagues of Egypt you desire? I +have not voice enough left to call a cab, much less to howl down a +kingdom." + +"I wonder what would have happened, if I, or some one else, had tried." + +"You would have spent the night in prison with a few kindred spirits. +After all, that would have been better than making love to old Donna +Tullia and her young friend." + +Orsino laughed. + +"You have good eyes," he said. + +"So have you, Orsino. Use them. You will see something odd if you look +where you were looking this morning. Do you know what sort of a place +this world is?" + +"It is a dull place. I have found that out already." + +"You are mistaken. It is hell. Do you mind calling that cab?" + +Orsino stared a moment at his companion, and then hailed the passing +conveyance. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Orsino had shown less anxiety to see Madame d'Aranjuez than might +perhaps have been expected. In the ten days which had elapsed between +the sitting at Gouache's studio and the first of January he had only +once made an attempt to find her at home, and that attempt had failed. +He had not even seen her passing in the street, and he had not been +conscious of any uncontrollable desire to catch a glimpse of her at any +price. + +But he had not forgotten her existence as he would certainly have +forgotten that of a wholly indifferent person in the same time. On the +contrary, he had thought of her frequently and had indulged in many +speculations concerning her, wondering among other matters why he did +not take more trouble to see her since she occupied his thoughts so +much. He did not know that he was in reality hesitating, for he would +not have acknowledged to himself that he could be in danger of falling +seriously in love. He was too young to admit such a possibility, and the +character which he admired and meant to assume was altogether too cold +and superior to such weaknesses. To do him justice, he was really not of +the sort to fall in love at first sight. Persons capable of a +self-imposed dualism rarely are, for the second nature they build up on +the foundation of their own is never wholly artificial. The disposition +to certain modes of thought and habits of bearing is really present, as +is sufficiently proved by their admiration of both. Very shy persons, +for instance, invariably admire very self-possessed ones, and in trying +to imitate them occasionally exhibit a cold-blooded arrogance which is +amazing. Timothy Titmouse secretly looks up to Don Juan as his ideal, +and after half a lifetime of failure outdoes his model, to the horror of +his friends. Dionysus masks as Hercules, and the fox is sometimes not +unsuccessful in his saint's disguise. Those who have been intimate with +a great actor know that the characters he plays best are not all +assumed; there is a little of each in his own nature. There is a touch +of the real Othello in Salvini--there is perhaps a strain of the +melancholy Scandinavian in English Irving. + +To be short, Orsino Saracinesca was too enthusiastic to be wholly cold, +and too thoughtful to be thoroughly enthusiastic. He saw things +differently according to his moods, and being dissatisfied, he tried to +make one mood prevail constantly over the other. In a mean nature the +double view often makes an untruthful individual; in one possessing +honourable instincts it frequently leads to unhappiness. Affectation +then becomes aspiration and the man's failure to impose on others is +forgotten in his misery at failing to impose upon himself. + +The few words Orsino had exchanged with Maria Consuelo on the morning of +the great ceremony recalled vividly the pleasant hour he had spent with +her ten days earlier, and he determined to see her as soon as possible. +He was out of conceit with himself and consequently with all those who +knew him, and he looked forward with pleasure to the conversation of an +attractive woman who could have no preconceived opinion of him, and who +could take him at his own estimate. He was curious, too, to find out +something more definite in regard to her. She was mysterious, and the +mystery pleased him. She had admitted that her deceased husband had +spoken of being connected with the Saracinesca, but he could not +discover where the relationship lay. Spicca's very odd remark, too, +seemed to point to her, in some way which Orsino could not understand, +and he remembered her having said that she had heard of Spicca. Her +husband had doubtless been an Italian of Spanish descent, but she had +given no clue to her own nationality, and she did not look Spanish, in +spite of her name, Maria Consuelo. As no one in Rome knew her it was +impossible to get any information whatever. It was all very interesting. + +Accordingly, late on the afternoon of the second of January, Orsino +called and was led to the door of a small sitting-room on the second +floor of the hotel. The servant shut the door behind him and Orsino +found himself alone. A lamp with a pretty shade was burning on the table +and beside it an ugly blue glass vase contained a few flowers, common +roses, but fresh and fragrant. Two or three new books in yellow paper +covers lay scattered upon the hideous velvet table cloth, and beside one +of them Orsino noticed a magnificent paper cutter of chiselled silver, +bearing a large monogram done in brilliants and rubies. The thing +contrasted oddly with its surroundings and attracted the light. An easy +chair was drawn up to the table, an abominable object covered with +perfectly new yellow satin. A small red morocco cushion, of the kind +used in travelling, was balanced on the back, and there was a depression +in it, as though some one's head had lately rested there. + +Orsino noticed all these details as he stood waiting for Madame +d'Aranjuez to appear, and they were not without interest to him, for +each one told a story, and the stories were contradictory. The room was +not encumbered with those numberless objects which most women scatter +about them within an hour after reaching a hotel. Yet Madame d'Aranjuez +must have been at least a month in Rome. The room smelt neither of +perfume nor of cigarettes, but of the roses, which was better, and a +little of the lamp, which was much worse. The lady's only possessions +seemed to be three books, a travelling cushion and a somewhat too +gorgeous paper cutter; and these few objects were perfectly new. He +glanced at the books; they were of the latest, and only one had been +cut. The cushion might have been bought that morning. Not a breath had +tarnished the polished blade of the silver knife. + +A door opened softly and Orsino drew himself up as some one pushed in +the heavy, vivid curtains. But it was not Madame d'Aranjuez. A small +dark woman of middle age, with downcast eyes and exceedingly black hair, +came forward a step. + +"The signora will come presently," she said in Italian, in a very low +voice, as though she were almost afraid of hearing herself speak. + +She was gone in a moment, as noiselessly as she had come. This was +evidently the silent maid of whom Gouache had spoken. The few words she +had spoken had revealed to Orsino the fact that she was an Italian from +the north, for she had the unmistakable accent of the Piedmontese, whose +own language is comprehensible only by themselves. + +Orsino prepared to wait some time, supposing that the message could +hardly have been sent without an object. But another minute had not +elapsed before Maria Consuelo herself appeared. In the soft lamplight +her clear white skin looked very pale and her auburn hair almost red. +She wore one of those nondescript garments which we have elected to +call tea-gowns, and Orsino, who had learned to criticise dress as he had +learned Latin grammar, saw that the tea-gown was good and the lace real. +The colours produced no impression upon him whatever. As a matter of +fact they were dark, being combined in various shades of olive. + +Maria Consuelo looked at her visitor and held out her hand, but said +nothing. She did not even smile, and Orsino began to fancy that he had +chosen an unfortunate moment for his visit. + +"It was very good of you to let me come," he said, waiting for her to +sit down. + +Still she said nothing. She placed the red morocco cushion carefully in +the particular position which would be most comfortable, turned the +shade of the lamp a little, which, of course, produced no change +whatever in the direction of the light, pushed one of the books half +across the table and at last sat down in the easy chair. Orsino sat down +near her, holding his hat upon his knee. He wondered whether she had +heard him speak, or whether she might not be one of those people who are +painfully shy when there is no third person present. + +"I think it was very good of you to come," she said at last, when she +was comfortably settled. + +"I wish goodness were always so easy," answered Orsino with alacrity. + +"Is it your ambition to be good?" asked Maria Consuelo with a smile. + +"It should be. But it is not a career." + +"Then you do not believe in Saints?" + +"Not until they are canonised and made articles of belief--unless you +are one, Madame." + +"I have thought of trying it," answered Maria Consuelo, calmly. +"Saintship is a career, even in society, whatever you may say to the +contrary. It has attractions, after all." + +"Not equal to those of the other side. Every one admits that. The +majority is evidently in favour of sin, and if we are to believe in +modern institutions, we must believe that majorities are right." + +"Then the hero is always wrong, for he is the enthusiastic individual +who is always for facing odds, and if no one disagrees with him he is +very unhappy. Yet there are heroes--" + +"Where?" asked Orsino. "The heroes people talk of ride bronze horses on +inaccessible pedestals. When the bell rings for a revolution they are +all knocked down and new ones are set up in their places--also executed +by the best artists--and the old ones are cast into cannon to knock to +pieces the ideas they invented. That is called history." + +"You take a cheerful and encouraging view of the world's history, Don +Orsino." + +"The world is made for us, and we must accept it. But we may criticise +it. There is nothing to the contrary in the contract." + +"In the social contract? Are you going to talk to me about +Jean-Jacques?" + +"Have you read him, Madame?" + +"'No woman who respects herself--'" began Maria Consuelo, quoting the +famous preface. + +"I see that you have," said Orsino, with a laugh. "I have not." + +"Nor I." + +To Orsino's surprise, Madame d'Aranjuez blushed. He could not have told +why he was pleased, nor why her change of colour seemed so unexpected. + +"Speaking of history," he said, after a very slight pause, "why did you +thank me yesterday for having got you a card?" + +"Did you not speak to Gouache about it?" + +"I said something--I forget what. Did he manage it?" + +"Of course. I had his wife's place. She could not go. Do you dislike +being thanked for your good offices? Are you so modest as that?" + +"Not in the least, but I hate misunderstandings, though I will get all +the credit I can for what I have not done, like other people. When I saw +that you knew the Del Ferice, I thought that perhaps she had been +exerting herself." + +"Why do you hate her so?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +"I do not hate her. She does not exist--that is all." + +"Why does she not exist, as you call it? She is a very good-natured +woman. Tell me the truth. Everybody hates her--I saw that by the way +they bowed to her while we were waiting--why? There must be a reason. Is +she a--an incorrect person?" + +Orsino laughed. + +"No. That is the point at which existence is more likely to begin than +to end." + +"How cynical you are! I do not like that. Tell me about Madame Del +Ferice." + +"Very well. To begin with, she is a relation of mine." + +"Seriously?" + +"Seriously. Of course that gives me a right to handle the whole +dictionary of abuse against her." + +"Of course. Are you going to do that?" + +"No. You would call me cynical. I do not like you to call me by bad +names, Madame." + +"I had an idea that men liked it," observed Maria Consuelo gravely. + +"One does not like to hear disagreeable truths." + +"Then it is the truth? Go on. You have forgotten what we were talking +about." + +"Not at all Donna Tullia, my second, third or fourth cousin, was married +once upon a time to a certain Mayer." + +"And left him. How interesting!" + +"No, Madame. He left her--very suddenly, I believe--for another world. +Better or worse? Who can say? Considering his past life, worse, I +suppose; but considering that he was not obliged to take Donna Tullia +with him, decidedly better." + +"You certainly hate her. Then she married Del Ferice." + +"Then she married Del Ferice--before I was born. She is fabulously old. +Mayer left her very rich, and without conditions. Del Ferice was an +impossible person. My father nearly killed him in a duel once--also +before I was born. I never knew what it was about. Del Ferice was a spy, +in the old days when spies got a living in a Rome--" + +"Ah! I see it all now!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo. "Del Ferice is white, +and you are black. Of course you hate each other. You need not tell me +any more." + +"How you take that for granted!" + +"Is it not perfectly clear? Do not talk to me of like and dislike when +your dreadful parties have anything to do with either! Besides, if I had +any sympathy with either side it would be for the whites. But the whole +thing is absurd, complicated, mediaeval, feudal--anything you like +except sensible. Your intolerance is--intolerable." + +"True tolerance should tolerate even intolerance," observed Orsino +smartly. + +"That sounds like one of the puzzles of pronunciation like 'in un piatto +poco cupo poco pepe pisto cape,'" laughed Maria Consuelo. "Tolerably +tolerable tolerance tolerates tolerable tolerance intolerably--" + +"You speak Italian?" asked Orsino, surprised by her glib enunciation of +the difficult sentence she had quoted. "Why are we talking a foreign +language?" + +"I cannot really speak Italian. I have an Italian maid, who speaks +French. But she taught me that puzzle." + +"It is odd--your maid is a Piedmontese and you have a good accent." + +"Have I? I am very glad. But tell me, is it not absurd that you should +hate these people as you do--you cannot deny it--merely because they are +whites?" + +"Everything in life is absurd if you take the opposite point of view. +Lunatics find endless amusement in watching sane people." + +"And of course, you are the sane people," observed Maria Consuelo. + +"Of course." + +"What becomes of me? I suppose I do not exist? You would not be rude +enough to class me with the lunatics." + +"Certainly not. You will of course choose to be a black." + +"In order to be discontented, as you are?" + +"Discontented?" + +"Yes. Are you not utterly out of sympathy with your surroundings? Are +you not hampered at every step by a network of traditions which have no +meaning to your intelligence, but which are laid on you like a harness +upon a horse, and in which you are driven your daily little round of +tiresome amusement--or dissipation? Do you not hate the Corso as an +omnibus horse hates it? Do you not really hate the very faces of all +those people who effectually prevent you from using your own +intelligence, your own strength--your own heart? One sees it in your +face. You are too young to be tired of life. No, I am not going to call +you a boy, though I am older than you, Don Orsino. You will find people +enough in your own surroundings to call you a boy--because you are not +yet so utterly tamed and wearied as they are, and for no other reason. +You are a man. I do not know your age, but you do not talk as boys do. +You are a man--then be a man altogether, be independent--use your hands +for something better than throwing mud at other people's houses merely +because they are new!" + +Orsino looked at her in astonishment. This was certainly not the sort of +conversation he had anticipated when he had entered the room. + +"You are surprised because I speak like this," she said after a short +pause. "You are a Saracinesca and I am--a stranger, here to-day and gone +to-morrow, whom you will probably never see again. It is amusing, is it +not? Why do you not laugh?" + +Maria Consuelo smiled and as usual her strong red lips closed as soon +as she had finished speaking, a habit which lent the smile something +unusual, half-mysterious, and self-contained. + +"I see nothing to laugh at," answered Orsino. "Did the mythological +personage whose name I have forgotten laugh when the sphynx proposed the +riddle to him?" + +"That is the third time within the last few days that I have been +compared to a sphynx by you or Gouache. It lacks originality in the +end." + +"I was not thinking of being original. I was too much interested. Your +riddle is the problem of my life." + +"The resemblance ceases there. I cannot eat you up if you do not guess +the answer--or if you do not take my advice. I am not prepared to go so +far as that." + +"Was it advice? It sounded more like a question." + +"I would not ask one when I am sure of getting no answer. Besides, I do +not like being laughed at." + +"What has that to do with the matter? Why imagine anything so +impossible?" + +"After all--perhaps it is more foolish to say, 'I advise you to do so +and so,' than to ask, 'Why do you not do so and so?' Advice is always +disagreeable and the adviser is always more or less ridiculous. Advice +brings its own punishment." + +"Is that not cynical?" asked Orsino. + +"No. Why? What is the worst thing you can do to your social enemy? +Prevail upon him to give you his counsel, act upon it--it will of course +turn out badly--then say, "I feared this would happen, but as you +advised me I did not like--" and so on! That is simple and always +effectual. Try it." + +"Not for worlds!" + +"I did not mean with me," answered Maria Consuelo with a laugh. + +"No. I am afraid there are other reasons which will prevent me from +making a career for myself," said Orsino thoughtfully. + +Maria Consuelo saw by his face that the subject was a serious one with +him, as she had already guessed that it must be, and one which would +always interest him. She therefore let it drop, keeping it in reserve in +case the conversation flagged. + +"I am going to see Madame Del Ferice to-morrow," she observed, changing +the subject. + +"Do you think that is necessary?" + +"Since I wish it! I have not your reasons for avoiding her." + +"I offended you the other day, Madame, did I not? You remember--when I +offered my services in a social way." + +"No--you amused me," answered Maria Consuelo coolly, and watching to see +how he would take the rebuke. + +But, young as Orsino was, he was a match for her in self-possession. + +"I am very glad," he answered without a trace of annoyance. "I feared +you were displeased." + +Maria Consuelo smiled again, and her momentary coldness vanished. The +answer delighted her, and did more to interest her in Orsino than fifty +clever sayings could have done. She resolved to push the question a +little further. + +"I will be frank," she said. + +"It is always best," answered Orsino, beginning to suspect that +something very tortuous was coming. His disbelief in phrases of the +kind, though originally artificial, was becoming profound. + +"Yes, I will be quite frank," she repeated. "You do not wish me to know +the Del Ferice and their set, and you do wish me to know the people you +like." + +"Evidently." + +"Why should I not do as I please?" + +She was clearly trying to entrap him into a foolish answer, and he grew +more and more wary. + +"It would be very strange if you did not," answered Orsino without +hesitation. + +"Why, again?" + +"Because you are absolutely free to make your own choice." + +"And if my choice does not meet with your approval?" she asked. + +"What can I say, Madame? I and my friends will be the losers, not you." + +Orsino had kept his temper admirably, and he did not suffer a hasty word +to escape his lips nor a shadow of irritation to appear in his face. Yet +she had pressed him in a way which was little short of rude. She was +silent for a few seconds, during which Orsino watched her face as she +turned it slightly away from him and from the lamp. In reality he was +wondering why she was not more communicative about herself, and +speculating as to whether her silence in that quarter proceeded from the +consciousness of a perfectly assured position in the world, or from the +fact that she had something to conceal; and this idea led him to +congratulate himself upon not having been obliged to act immediately +upon his first proposal by bringing about an acquaintance between Madame +d'Aranjuez and his mother. This uncertainty lent a spice of interest to +the acquaintance. He knew enough of the world already to be sure that +Maria Consuelo was born and bred in that state of life to which it has +pleased Providence to call the social elect. But the peculiar people +sometimes do strange things and afterwards establish themselves in +foreign cities where their doings are not likely to be known for some +time. Not that Orsino cared what this particular stranger's past might +have been. But he knew that his mother would care very much indeed, if +Orsino wished her to know the mysterious lady, and would sift the matter +very thoroughly before asking her to the Palazzo Saracinesca. Donna +Tullia, on the other hand, had committed herself to the acquaintance on +her own responsibility, evidently taking it for granted that if Orsino +knew Madame d'Aranjuez, the latter must be socially irreproachable. It +amused Orsino to imagine the fat countess's rage if she turned out to +have made a mistake. + +"I shall be the loser too," said Maria Consuelo, in a different tone, +"if I make a bad choice. But I cannot draw back. I took her to her house +in my carriage. She seemed to take a fancy to me--" she laughed a +little. + +Orsino smiled as though to imply that the circumstance did not surprise +him. + +"And she said she would come to see me. As a stranger I could not do +less than insist upon making the first visit, and I named the day--or +rather she did. I am going to-morrow." + +"To-morrow? Tuesday is her day. You will meet all her friends." + +"Do you mean to say that people still have days in Rome?" Maria Consuelo +did not look pleased. + +"Some people do--very few. Most people prefer to be at home one evening +in the week." + +"What sort of people are Madame Del Ferice's friends?" + +"Excellent people." + +"Why are you so cautious?" + +"Because you are about to be one of them, Madame." + +"Am I? No, I will not begin another catechism! You are too clever--I +shall never get a direct answer from you." + +"Not in that way," answered Orsino with a frankness that made his +companion smile. + +"How then?" + +"I think you would know how," he replied gravely, and he fixed his young +black eyes on her with an expression that made her half close her own. + +"I should think you would make a good actor," she said softly. + +"Provided that I might be allowed to be sincere between the acts." + +"That sounds well. A little ambiguous perhaps. Your sincerity might or +might not take the same direction as the part you had been acting." + +"That would depend entirely upon yourself, Madame." + +This time Maria Consuelo opened her eyes instead of closing them. + +"You do not lack--what shall I say? A certain assurance--you do not +waste time!" + +She laughed merrily, and Orsino laughed with her. + +"We are between the acts now," he said. "The curtain goes up to-morrow, +and you join the enemy." + +"Come with me, then." + +"In your carriage? I shall be enchanted." + +"No. You know I do not mean that. Come with me to the enemy's camp. It +will be very amusing." + +Orsino shook his head. + +"I would rather die--if possible at your feet, Madame." + +"Are you afraid to call upon Madame Del Ferice?" + +"More than of death itself." + +"How can you say that?" + +"The conditions of the life to come are doubtful--there might be a +chance for me. There is no doubt at all as to what would happen if I +went to see Madame Del Ferice." + +"Is your father so severe with you?" asked Maria Consuelo with a little +scorn. + +"Alas, Madame, I am not sensitive to ridicule," answered Orsino, quite +unmoved. "I grant that there is something wanting in my character." + +Maria Consuelo had hoped to find a weak point, and had failed, though +indeed there were many in the young man's armour. She was a little +annoyed, both at her own lack of judgment and because it would have +amused her to see Orsino in an element so unfamiliar to him as that in +which Donna Tullia lived. + +"And there is nothing which would induce you to go there?" she asked. + +"At present--nothing," Orsino answered coldly. + +"At present--but in the future of all possible possibilities?" + +"I shall undoubtedly go there. It is only the unforeseen which +invariably happens." + +"I think so too." + +"Of course. I will illustrate the proverb by bidding you good evening," +said Orsino, laughing as he rose. "By this time the conviction must have +formed itself in your mind that I was never going. The unforeseen +happens. I go." + +Maria Consuelo would have been glad if he had stayed even longer, for he +amused her and interested her, and she did not look forward with +pleasure to the lonely evening she was to spend in the hotel. + +"I am generally at home at this hour," she said, giving him her hand. + +"Then, if you will allow me? Thanks. Good evening, Madame." + +Their eyes met for a moment, and then Orsino left the room. As he lit +his cigarette in the porch of the hotel, he said to himself that he had +not wasted his hour, and he was pleasantly conscious of tha inward and +spiritual satisfaction which every very young man feels when he is aware +of having appeared at his best in the society of a woman alone. Youth +without vanity is only premature old age after all. + +"She is certainly more than pretty," he said to himself, affecting to be +critical when he was indeed convinced. "Her mouth is fabulous, but it is +well shaped and the rest is perfect--no, the nose is insignificant, and +one of those yellow eyes wanders a little. These are not perfections. +But what does it matter? The whole is charming, whatever the parts may +be. I wish she would not go to that horrible fat woman's tea to-morrow." + +Such were the observations which Orsino thought fit to make to himself, +but which by no means represented all that he felt, for they took no +notice whatever of that extreme satisfaction at having talked well with +Maria Consuelo, which in reality dominated every other sensation just +then. He was well enough accustomed to consideration, though his only +taste of society had been enjoyed during the winter vacations of the +last two years. He was not the greatest match in the Roman matrimonial +market for nothing, and he was perfectly well aware of his advantages in +this respect. He possessed that keen, business-like appreciation of his +value as a marriageable man which seems to characterise the young +generation of to-day, and he was not mistaken in his estimate. It was +made sufficiently clear to him at every turn that he had but to ask in +order to receive. But he had not the slightest intention of marrying at +one and twenty as several of his old school-fellows were doing, and he +was sensible enough to foresee that his position as a desirable +son-in-law would soon cause him more annoyance than amusement. + +Madame d'Aranjuez was doubtless aware that she could not marry him if +she wished to do so. She was several years older than he--he admitted +the fact rather reluctantly--she was a widow, and she seemed to have no +particular social position. These were excellent reasons against +matrimony, but they were also equally excellent reasons for being +pleased with himself at having produced a favourable impression on her. + +He walked rapidly along the crowded street, glancing carelessly at the +people who passed and at the brilliantly lighted windows of the shops. +He passed the door of the club, where he was already becoming known for +rather reckless play, and he quite forgot that a number of men were +probably spending an hour at the tables before dinner, a fact which +would hardly have escaped his memory if he had not been more than +usually occupied with pleasant thoughts. He did not need the excitement +of baccarat nor the stimulus of brandy and soda, for his brain was +already both excited and stimulated, though he was not at once aware of +it. But it became clear to him when he suddenly found himself standing +before the steps of the Capitol in the gloomy square of the Ara Coeli, +wondering what in the world had brought him so far out of his way. + +"What a fool I am!" he exclaimed impatiently, as he turned back and +walked in the direction of his home. "And yet she told me that I would +make a good actor. They say that an actor should never be carried away +by his part." + +At dinner that evening he was alternately talkative and very silent. + +"Where have you been to-day, Orsino?" asked his father, looking at him +curiously. + +"I spent half an hour with Madame d'Aranjuez, and then went for a walk," +answered Orsino with sudden indifference. + +"What is she like?" asked Corona. + +"Clever--at least in Rome." There was an odd, nervous sharpness about +the answer. + +Old Saracinesca raised his keen eyes without lifting his head and looked +hard at his grandson. He was a little bent in his great old age. + +"The boy is in love!" he exclaimed abruptly, and a laugh that was still +deep and ringing followed the words. Orsino recovered his +self-possession and smiled carelessly. + +Corona was thoughtful during the remainder of the meal. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The Princess Sant' Ilario's early life had been deeply stirred by the +great makers of human character, sorrow and happiness. She had suffered +profoundly, she had borne her trials with a rare courage, and her +reward, if one may call it so, had been very great. She had seen the +world and known it well, and the knowledge had not been forgotten in +the peaceful prosperity of later years. Gifted with a beauty not +equalled, perhaps, in those times, endowed with a strong and passionate +nature under a singularly cold and calm outward manner, she had been +saved from many dangers by the rarest of commonplace qualities, common +sense. She had never passed for an intellectual person, she had never +been very brilliant in conversation, she had even been thought +old-fashioned in her prejudices concerning the books she read. But her +judgment had rarely failed her at critical moments. Once only, she +remembered having committed a great mistake, of which the sudden and +unexpected consequences had almost wrecked her life. But in that case +she had suffered her heart to lead her, an innocent girl's good name had +been at stake, and she had rashly taken a responsibility too heavy for +love itself to bear. Those days were long past now; twenty years +separated Corona, the mother of four tall sons, from the Corona who had +risked all to save poor little Faustina Montevarchi. + +But even she knew that a state of such perpetual and unclouded happiness +could hardly last a lifetime, and she had forced herself, almost +laughing at the thought, to look forward to the day when Orsino must +cease to be a boy and must face the world of strong loves and hates +through which most men have to pass, and which all men must have known +in order to be men indeed. + +The people whose lives are full of the most romantic incidents, are not +generally, I think, people of romantic disposition. Romance, like power, +will come uncalled for, and those who seek it most, are often those who +find it least. And the reason is simple enough. The man of heart is not +perpetually burrowing in his surroundings for affections upon which his +heart may feed, any more than the very strong man is naturally impelled +to lift every weight he sees or to fight with every man he meets. The +persons whom others call romantic are rarely conscious of being so. They +are generally far too much occupied with the one great thought which +make their strongest, bravest and meanest actions seem perfectly +commonplace to themselves. Corona Del Carmine, who had heroically +sacrificed herself in her earliest girlhood to save her father from ruin +and who a few years later had risked a priceless happiness to shield a +foolish girl, had not in her whole life been conscious of a single +romantic instinct. Brave, devoted, but unimaginative by nature, she had +followed her heart's direction in most worldly matters. + +She was amazed to find that she was becoming romantic now, in her dreams +for Orsino's future. All sorts of ideas which she would have laughed at +in her own youth flitted through her brain from morning till night. Her +fancy built up a life for her eldest son, which she knew to be far from +the possibility of realisation, but which had for her a new and strange +attraction. + +She planned for him the most unimaginable happiness, of a kind which +would perhaps have hardly satisfied his more modern instincts. She saw a +maiden of indescribable beauty, brought up in unapproachable +perfections, guarded by the all but insuperable jealousy of an ideal +home. Orsino was to love this vision, and none other, from the first +meeting to the term of his natural life, and was to win her in the face +or difficulties such as would have made even Giovanni, the incomparable, +look grave. This radiant creature was also to love Orsino, as a matter +of course, with a love vastly more angelic than human, but not hastily +nor thoughtlessly, lest Orsino should get her too easily and not value +her as he ought. Then she saw the two betrothed, side by side on shady +lawns and moonlit terraces, in a perfectly beautiful intimacy such as +they would certainly never enjoy in the existing conditions of their own +society. But that mattered little. The wooing, the winning and the +marrying of the exquisite girl were to make up Orsino's life, and fifty +or sixty years of idyllic happiness were to be the reward of their +mutual devotion. Had she not spent twenty such years herself? Then why +should not all the rest be possible? + +The dreams came and went and she was too sensible not to laugh at them. +That was not the youth of Giovanni, her husband, nor of men who even +faintly resembled him in her estimation. Giovanni had wandered far, had +seen much, and had undoubtedly indulged more than one passing affection, +before he had been thirty years of age and had loved Corona. Giovanni +would laugh too, if she told him of her vision of two young and +beautiful married saints. And his laugh would be more sincere than her +own. Nevertheless, her dreams haunted her, as they have haunted many a +loving mother, ever since Althaea plucked from the flame the burning +brand that measured Meleager's life, and smothered the sparks upon it +and hid it away among her treasures. + +Such things seem foolish, no doubt, in the measure of fact, in the +glaring light of our day. The thought is none the less noble. The dream +of an untainted love, the vision of unspotted youth and pure maiden, the +glory of unbroken faith kept whole by man and wife in holy wedlock, the +pride of stainless name and stainless race--these things are not less +high because there is a sublimity in the strength of a great sin which +may lie the closer to our sympathy, as the sinning is the nearer to our +weakness. + +When old Saracinesca looked up from under his bushy brows and laughed +and said that his grandson was in love, he thought no more of what he +said than if he had remarked that Orsino's beard was growing or that +Giovanni's was turning grey. But Corona's pretty fancies received a +shock from which they never recovered again, and though she did her best +to call them back they lost all their reality from that hour. The plain +fact that at one and twenty years the boy is a man, though a very young +one, was made suddenly clear to her, and she was faced by another fact +still more destructive of her ideals, namely, that a man is not to be +kept from falling in love, when and where he is so inclined, by any +personal influence whatsoever. She knew that well enough, and the +supposition that his first young passion might be for Madame d'Aranjuez +was by no means comforting. Corona immediately felt an interest in that +lady which she had not felt before and which was not altogether +friendly. + +It seemed to her necessary in the first place to find out something +definite concerning Maria Consuelo, and this was no easy matter. She +communicated her wish to her husband when they were alone that evening. + +"I know nothing about her," answered Giovanni. "And I do not know any +one who does. After all it is of very little importance." + +"What if he falls seriously in love with this woman?" + +"We will send him round the world. At his age that will cure anything. +When he comes back Madame d'Aranjuez will have retired to the chaos of +the unknown out of which Orsino has evolved her." + +"She does not look the kind of woman to disappear at the right moment," +observed Corona doubtfully. + +Giovanni was at that moment supremely comfortable, both in mind and +body. It was late. The old prince had gone to his own quarters, the boys +were in bed, and Orsino was presumably at a party or at the club. Sant' +Ilario was enjoying the delight of spending an hour alone in his wife's +society. They were in Corona's old boudoir, a place full of associations +for them both. He did not want to be mentally disturbed. He said nothing +in answer to his wife's remark. She repeated it in a different form. + +"Women like her do not disappear when one does not want them," she said. + +"What makes you think so?" inquired Giovanni with a man's irritating +indolence when he does not mean to grasp a disagreeable idea. + +"I know it," Corona answered, resting her chin upon her hand and staring +at the fire. + +Giovanni surrendered unconditionally. + +"You are probably right, dear. You always are about people." + +"Well--then you must see the importance of what I say," said Corona +pushing her victory. + +"Of course, of course," answered Giovanni, squinting at the flames with +one eye between his outstretched fingers. + +"I wish you would wake up!" exclaimed Corona, taking the hand in hers +and drawing it to her. "Orsino is probably making love to Madame +d'Aranjuez at this very moment." + +"Then I will imitate him, and make love to you, my dear. I could not be +better occupied, and you know it. You used to say I did it very well." + +Corona laughed in her deep, soft voice. + +"Orsino is like you. That is what frightens me. He will make love too +well. Be serious, Giovanni. Think of what I am saying." + +"Let us dismiss the question then, for the simple reason that there is +absolutely nothing to be done. We cannot turn this good woman out of +Rome, and we cannot lock Orsino up in his room. To tell a boy not to +bestow his affections in a certain quarter is like ramming a charge into +a gun and then expecting that it will not come out by the same way. The +harder you ram it down the more noise it makes--that is all. Encourage +him and he may possibly tire of it. Hinder him and he will become +inconveniently heroic." + +"I suppose that is true," said Corona. "Then at least find out who the +woman is," she added, after a pause. + +"I will try," Giovanni answered. "I will even go to the length of +spending an hour a day at the club, if that will do any good--and you +know how I detest clubs. But if anything whatever is known of her, it +will be known there." + +Giovanni kept his word and expended more energy in attempting to find +out something about Madame d'Aranjuez during the next few days than he +had devoted to anything connected with society for a long time. Nearly +a week elapsed before his efforts met with any success. + +He was in the club one afternoon at an early hour, reading the papers, +and not more than three or four other men were present. Among them were +Frangipani and Montevarchi, who was formerly known as Ascanio Bellegra. +There was also a certain young foreigner, a diplomatist, who, like Sant' +Ilario, was reading a paper, most probably in search of an idea for the +next visit on his list. + +Giovanni suddenly came upon a description of a dinner and reception +given by Del Ferice and his wife. The paragraph was written in the usual +florid style with a fine generosity in the distribution of titles to +unknown persons. + +"The centre of all attraction," said the reporter, "was a most beautiful +Spanish princess, Donna Maria Consuelo d'A----z d'A----a, in whose +mysterious eyes are reflected the divine fires of a thousand triumphs, +and who was gracefully attired in olive green brocade--" + +"Oh! Is that it?" said Sant' Ilario aloud, and in the peculiar tone +always used by a man who makes a discovery in a daily paper. + +"What is it?" inquired Frangipani and Montevarchi in the same breath. +The young diplomatist looked up with an air of interrogation. + +Sant' Ilario read the paragraph aloud. All three listened as though the +fate of empires depended on the facts reported. + +"Just like the newspapers!" exclaimed Frangipani. "There probably is no +such person. Is there, Ascanio?" + +Montevarchi had always been a weak fellow, and was reported to be at +present very deep in the building speculations of the day. But there was +one point upon which he justly prided himself. He was a superior +authority on genealogy. It was his passion and no one ever disputed his +knowledge or decision. He stroked his fair beard, looked out of the +window, winked his pale blue eyes once or twice and then gave his +verdict. + +"There is no such person," he said gravely. + +"I beg your pardon, prince," said the young diplomatist, "I have met +her. She exists." + +"My dear friend," answered Montevarchi, "I do not doubt the existence of +the woman, as such, and I would certainly not think of disagreeing with +you, even if I had the slightest ground for doing so, which, I hasten to +say, I have not. Nor, of course, if she is a friend of yours, would I +like to say more on the subject. But I have taken some little interest +in genealogy and I have a modest library--about two thousand volumes, +only--consisting solely of works on the subject, all of which I have +read and many of which I have carefully annotated. I need not say that +they are all at your disposal if you should desire to make any +researches." + +Montevarchi had much of his murdered father's manner, without the old +man's strength. The young secretary of embassy was rather startled at +the idea of searching through two thousand volumes in pursuit of Madame +d'Aranjuez's identity. Sant' Ilario laughed. + +"I only mean that I have met the lady," said the young man. "Of course +you are right. I have no idea who she may really be. I have heard odd +stories about her." + +"Oh--have you?" asked Sant' Ilario with renewed interest. + +"Yes, very odd." He paused and looked round the room to assure himself +that no one else was present. "There are two distinct stories about her. +The first is this. They say that she is a South American prima donna, +who sang only a few months, at Rio de Janeiro and then at Buenos Ayres. +An Italian who had gone out there and made a fortune married her from +the stage. In coming to Europe, he unfortunately fell overboard and she +inherited all his money. People say that she was the only person who +witnessed the accident. The man's name was Aragno. She twisted it once +and made Aranjuez of it, and she turned it again and discovered that it +spelled Aragona. That is the first story. It sounds well at all events." + +"Very," said Sant' Ilario, with a laugh. + +"A profoundly interesting page in genealogy, if she happens to marry +somebody," observed Montevarchi, mentally noting all the facts. + +"What is the other story?" asked Frangipani. + +"The other story is much less concise and detailed. According to this +version, she is the daughter of a certain royal personage and of a +Polish countess. There is always a Polish countess in those stories! She +was never married. The royal personage has had her educated in a convent +and has sent her out into the wide world with a pretty fancy name of his +own invention, plentifully supplied with money and regular documents +referring to her union with the imaginary Aranjuez, and protected by a +sort of body-guard of mutes and duennas who never appear in public. She +is of course to make a great match for herself, and has come to Rome to +do it. That is also a pretty tale." + +"More interesting than the other," said Montevarchi. "These side lights +of genealogy, these stray rivulets of royal races, if I may so +poetically call them, possess an absorbing interest for the student. I +will make a note of it." + +"Of course, I do not vouch for the truth of a single word in either +story," observed the young man. "Of the two the first is the less +improbable. I have met her and talked to her and she is certainly not +less than five and twenty years old. She may be more. In any case she is +too old to have been just let out of a convent." + +"Perhaps she has been loose for some years," observed Sant' Ilario, +speaking of her as though she were a dangerous wild animal. + +"We should have heard of her," objected the other. "She has the sort of +personality which is noticed anywhere and which makes itself felt." + +"Then you incline to the belief that she dropped the Signor Aragno +quietly overboard in the neighbourhood of the equator?" + +"The real story may be quite different from either of those I have told +you." + +"And she is a friend of poor old Donna Tullia!" exclaimed Montevarchi +regretfully. "I am sorry for that. For the sake of her history I could +almost have gone to the length of making her acquaintance." + +"How the Del Ferice would rave if she could hear you call her poor old +Donna Tullia," observed Frangipani. "I remember how she danced at the +ball when I came of age!" + +"That was a long time ago, Filippo," said Montevarchi thoughtfully, "a +very long time ago. We were all young once, Filippo--but Donna Tullia is +really only fit to fill a glass case in a museum of natural history +now." + +The remark was not original, and had been in circulation some time. But +the three men laughed a little and Montevarchi was much pleased by their +appreciation. He and Frangipani began to talk together, and Sant' Ilario +took up his paper again. When the young diplomatist laid his own aside +and went out, Giovanni followed him, and they left the club together. + +"Have you any reason to believe that there is anything irregular about +this Madame d'Aranjuez?" asked Sant' Ilario. + +"No. Stories of that kind are generally inventions. She has not been +presented at Court--but that means nothing here. And there is a doubt +about her nationality--but no one has asked her directly about it." + +"May I ask who told you the stories?" + +The young man's face immediately lost all expression. + +"Really--I have quite forgotten," he said. "People have been talking +about her." + +Sant' Ilario justly concluded that his companion's informant was a lady, +and probably one in whom the diplomatist was interested. Discretion is +so rare that it can easily be traced to its causes. Giovanni left the +young man and walked away in the opposite direction, inwardly meditating +a piece of diplomacy quite foreign to his nature. He said to himself +that he would watch the man in the world and that it would be easy to +guess who the lady in question was. It would have been clear to any one +but himself that he was not likely to learn anything worth knowing, by +his present mode of procedure. + +"Gouache," he said, entering the artist's studio a quarter of an hour +later, "do you know anything about Madame d'Aranjuez?" + +"That is all I know," Gouache answered, pointing to Maria Consuelo's +portrait which stood finished upon an easel before him, set in an old +frame. He had been touching it when Giovanni entered. "That is all I +know, and I do not know that thoroughly. I wish I did. She is a +wonderful subject." + +Sant' Ilario gazed at the picture in silence. + +"Are her eyes really like these?" he asked at length. + +"Much finer." + +"And her mouth?" + +"Much larger," answered Gouache with a smile. + +"She is bad," said Giovanni with conviction, and he thought of the +Signor Aragno. + +"Women are never bad," observed Gouache with a thoughtful air. "Some are +less angelic than others. You need only tell them all so to assure +yourself of the fact." + +"I daresay. What is this person? French, Spanish--South American?" + +"I have not the least idea. She is not French, at all events." + +"Excuse me--does your wife know her?" + +Gouache glanced quickly at his visitor's face. + +"No." + +Gouache was a singularly kind man, and he did his best perhaps for +reasons of his own, to convey nothing by the monosyllable beyond the +simple negation of a fact. But the effort was not altogether successful. +There was an almost imperceptible shade of surprise in the tone which +did not escape Giovanni. On the other hand it was perfectly clear to +Gouache that Sant' Ilario's interest in the matter was connected with +Orsino. + +"I cannot find any one who knows anything definite," said Giovanni after +a pause. + +"Have you tried Spicca?" asked the artist, examining his work +critically. + +"No. Why Spicca?" + +"He always knows everything," answered Gouache vaguely. "By the way, +Saracinesca, do you not think there might be a little more light just +over the left eye?" + +"How should I know?" + +"You ought to know. What is the use of having been brought up under the +very noses of original portraits, all painted by the best masters and +doubtless ordered by your ancestors at a very considerable expense--if +you do not know?" + +Giovanni laughed. + +"My dear old friend," he said good-humouredly, "have you known us nearly +five and twenty years without discovering that it is our peculiar +privilege to be ignorant without reproach?" + +Gouache laughed in his turn. + +"You do not often make sharp remarks--but when you do!" + +Giovanni left the studio very soon, and went in search of Spicca. It was +no easy matter to find the peripatetic cynic on a winter's afternoon, +but Gouache's remark had seemed to mean something, and Sant' Ilario saw +a faint glimmer of hope in the distance. He knew Spicca's habits very +well, and was aware that when the sun was low he would certainly turn +into one of the many houses where he was intimate, and spend an hour +over a cup of tea. The difficulty lay in ascertaining which particular +fireside he would select on that afternoon. Giovanni hastily sketched a +route for himself and asked the porter at each of his friends' houses if +Spicca had entered. Fortune favoured him at last. Spicca was drinking +his tea with the Marchesa di San Giacinto. + +Giovanni paused a moment before the gateway of the palace in which San +Giacinto had inhabited a large hired apartment for many years. He did +not see much of his cousin, now, on account of differences in political +opinion, and he had no reason whatever for calling on Flavia, especially +as formal New Year's visits had lately been exchanged. However, as San +Giacinto was now a leading authority on questions of landed property in +the city, it struck him that he could pretend a desire to see Flavia's +husband, and make that an excuse for staying a long time, if necessary, +in order to wait for him. + +He found Flavia and Spicca alone together, with a small tea-table +between them. The air was heavy with the smoke of cigarettes, which +clung to the oriental curtains and hung in clouds about the rare palms +and plants. Everything in the San Giacinto house was large, comfortable +and unostentatious. There was not a chair to be seen which might not +have held the giant's frame. San Giacinto was a wonderful judge of what +was good. If he paid twice as much as Montevarchi for a horse, the horse +turned out to be capable of four times the work. If he bought a picture +at a sale, it was discovered to be by some good master and other people +wondered why they had lost courage in the bidding for a trifle of a +hundred francs. Nothing ever turned out badly with him, but no success +had the power to shake his solid prudence. No one knew how rich he was, +but those who had watched him understood that he would never let the +world guess at half his fortune. He was a giant in all ways and he had +shown what he could do when he had dominated Flavia during the first +year of their marriage. She had at first been proud of him, but about +the time when she would have wearied of another man, she discovered that +she feared him in a way she certainly did not fear the devil. Yet lie +had never spoken a harsh, word to her in his life. But there was +something positively appalling to her in his enormous strength, rarely +exhibited and never without good reason, but always quietly present, as +the outline of a vast mountain reflected in a placid lake. Then she +discovered to her great surprise that he really loved her, which she had +not expected, and at the end of three years he became aware that she +loved him, which was still more astonishing. As usual, his investment +had turned out well. + +At the time of which I am speaking Flavia was a slight, graceful woman +of forty years or thereabouts, retaining much of the brilliant +prettiness which served her for beauty, and conspicuous always for her +extremely bright eyes. She was of the type of women who live to a great +age. + +She had not expected to see Sant' Ilario, and as she gave her hand, she +looked up at him with an air of inquiry. It would have been like him to +say that he had come to see her husband and not herself, for he had no +tact with persons whom he did not especially like. There are such people +in the world. + +"Will you give me a cup of tea, Flavia?" he asked, as he sat down, after +shaking hands with Spicca. + +"Have you at last heard that your cousin's tea is good?" inquired the +latter, who was surprised by Giovanni's coming. + +"I am afraid it is cold," said Flavia, looking into the teapot, as +though she could discover the temperature by inspection. + +"It is no matter," answered Giovanni absently. + +He was wondering how he could lead the conversation to the discussion of +Madame d'Aranjuez. + +"You belong to the swallowers," observed Spicca, lighting a fresh +cigarette. "You swallow something, no matter what, and you are +satisfied." + +"It is the simplest way--one is never disappointed." + +"It is a pity one cannot swallow people in the same way," said Flavia +with a laugh. + +"Most people do," answered Spicca viciously. + +"Were you at the Jubilee on the first day?" asked Giovanni, addressing +Flavia. + +"Of course I was--and you spoke to me." + +"That is true. By the bye, I saw that excellent Donna Tullia there. I +wonder whose ticket she had." + +"She had the Princess Befana's," answered Spicca, who knew everything. +"The old lady happened to be dying--she always dies at the beginning of +the season--it used to be for economy, but it has become a habit--and so +Del Ferice bought her card of her servant for his wife." + +"Who was the lady who sat with her?" asked Giovanni, delighted with his +own skill. + +"You ought to know!" exclaimed Flavia. "We all saw Orsino take her out. +That is the famous, the incomparable Madame d'Aranjuez--the most +beautiful of Spanish princesses according to to-day's paper. I daresay +you have seen the account of the Del Ferice party. She is no more +Spanish than Alexander the Great. Is she, Spicca?" + +"No, she is not Spanish," answered the latter. + +"Then what in the world is she?" asked Giovanni impatiently. + +"How should I know? Of course it is very disagreeable for you." It was +Flavia who spoke. + +"Disagreeable? How?" + +"Why, about Orsino of course. Everybody says he is devoted to her." + +"I wish everybody would mind his and her business," said Giovanni +sharply. "Because a boy makes the acquaintance of a stranger at a +studio--" + +"Oh--it was at a studio? I did not know that." + +"Yes, at Gouache's--I fancied your sister might have told you that," +said Giovanni, growing more and more irritable, and yet not daring to +change the subject, lest he should lose some valuable information. +"Because Orsino makes her acquaintance accidentally, every one must say +that he is in love with her." + +Flavia laughed. + +"My dear Giovanni," she answered. "Let us be frank. I used never to +tell the truth under any circumstances, when I was a girl, but +Giovanni--my Giovanni--did not like that. Do you know what he did? He +used to cut off a hundred francs of my allowance for every fib I +told--laughing at me all the time. At the end of the first quarter I +positively had not a pair of shoes, and all my gloves had been cleaned +twice. He used to keep all the fines in a special pocket-book--if you +knew how hard I tried to steal it! But I could not. Then, of course, I +reformed. There was nothing else to be done--that or rags--fancy! And do +you know? I have grown quite used to being truthful. Besides, it is so +original, that I pose with it." + +Flavia paused, laughed a little, and puffed at her cigarette. + +"You do not often come to see me, Giovanni," she said, "and since you +are here I am going to tell you the truth about your visit. You are +beside yourself with rage at Orsino's new fancy, and you want to find +out all about this Madame d'Aranjuez. So you came here, because we are +Whites and you saw that she had been at the Del Ferice party, and you +know that we know them--and the rest is sung by the organ, as we say +when high mass is over. Is that the truth, or not?" + +"Approximately," said Giovanni, smiling in spite of himself. + +"Does Corona cut your allowance when you tell fibs?" asked Flavia. "No? +Then why say that it is only approximately true?" + +"I have my reasons. And you can tell me nothing?" + +"Nothing. I believe Spicca knows all about her. But he will not tell +what he knows." + +Spicca made no answer to this, and Giovanni determined to outstay him, +or rather, to stay until he rose to go and then go with him. It was +tedious work for he was not a man who could talk against time on all +occasions. But he struggled bravely and Spicca at last got up from his +deep chair. They went out together, and stopped as though by common +consent upon the brilliantly lighted landing of the first floor. + +"Seriously, Spicca," said Giovanni, "I am afraid Orsino is falling in +love with this pretty stranger. If you can tell me anything about her, +please do so." + +Spicca stared at the wall, hesitated a moment, and then looked straight +into his companion's eyes. + +"Have you any reason to suppose that I, and I especially, know anything +about this lady?" he asked. + +"No--except that you know everything." + +"That is a fable." Spicca turned from him and began to descend the +stairs. + +Giovanni followed and laid a hand upon his arm. + +"You will not do me this service?" he asked earnestly. + +Again Spicca stopped and looked at him. + +"You and I are very old friends, Giovanni," he said slowly. "I am older +than you, but we have stood by each other very often--in places more +slippery than these marble steps. Do not let us quarrel now, old friend. +When I tell you that my omniscience exists only in the vivid +imaginations of people whose tea I like, believe me, and if you wish to +do me a kindness--for the sake of old times--do not help to spread the +idea that I know everything." + +The melancholy Spicca had never been given to talking about friendship +or its mutual obligations. Indeed, Giovanni could not remember having +ever heard him speak as he had just spoken. It was perfectly clear that +he knew something very definite about Maria Consuelo, and he probably +had no intention of deceiving Giovanni in that respect. But Spicca also +knew his man, and he knew that his appeal for Giovanni's silence would +not be vain. + +"Very well," said Sant' Ilario. + +They exchanged a few indifferent words before parting, and then Giovanni +walked slowly homeward, pondering on the things he had heard that day. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +While Giovanni was exerting himself to little purpose in attempting to +gain information concerning Maria Consuelo, she had launched herself +upon the society of which the Countess Del Ferice was an important and +influential member. Chance, and probably chance alone, had guided her in +the matter of this acquaintance, for it could certainly not be said that +she had forced herself upon Donna Tullia, nor even shown any uncommon +readiness to meet the latter's advances. The offer of a seat in her +carriage had seemed natural enough, under the circumstances, and Donna +Tullia had been perfectly free to refuse it if she had chosen to do so. + +Though possessing but the very slightest grounds for believing herself +to be a born diplomatist, the Countess had always delighted in petty +plotting and scheming. She now saw a possibility of annoying all +Orsino's relations by attracting the object of Orsino's devotion to her +own house. She had no especial reason for supposing that the young man +was really very much in love with Madame d'Aranjuez, but her woman's +instinct, which far surpassed her diplomatic talents in acuteness, told +her that Orsino was certainly not indifferent to the interesting +stranger. She argued, primitively enough, that to annoy Orsino must be +equivalent to annoying his people, and she supposed that she could do +nothing more disagreeable to the young man's wishes than to induce +Madame d'Aranjuez to join that part of society from which all the +Saracinesca were separated by an insuperable barrier. + +And Orsino indeed resented the proceeding, as she had expected; but his +family were at first more inclined to look upon Donna Tullia as a good +angel who had carried off the tempter at the right moment to an +unapproachable distance. It was not to be believed that Orsino could do +anything so monstrous as to enter Del Ferice's house or ask a place in +Del Ferice's circle, and it was accordingly a relief to find that Madame +d'Aranjuez had definitely chosen to do so, and had appeared in +olive-green brocade at the Del Ferice's last party. The olive-green +brocade would now assuredly not figure in the gatherings of the +Saracinesca's intimate friends. + +Like every one else, Orsino read the daily chronicle of Roman life in +the papers, and until he saw Maria Consuelo's name among the Del +Ferice's guests, he refused to believe that she had taken the +irrevocable step he so much feared. He had still entertained vague +notions of bringing about a meeting between her and his mother, and he +saw at a glance that such a meeting was now quite out of the question. +This was the first severe shock his vanity had ever received and he was +surprised at the depth of his own annoyance. Maria Consuelo might indeed +have been seen once with Donna Tullia, and might have gone once to the +latter's day. That was bad enough, but might be remedied by tact and +decision in her subsequent conduct. But there was no salvation possible +after a person had been advertised in the daily paper as Madame +d'Aranjuez had been. Orsino was very angry. He had been once to see her +since his first visit, and she had said nothing about this invitation, +though Donna Tullia's name had been mentioned. He was offended with her +for not telling him that she was going to the dinner, as though he had +any right to be made acquainted with her intentions. He had no sooner +made the discovery than he determined to visit his anger upon her, and +throwing the paper aside went straight to the hotel where she was +stopping. + +Maria Consuelo was at home and he was ushered into the little +sitting-room without delay. To his inexpressible disgust he found Del +Ferice himself installed upon the chair near the table, engaged in +animated conversation with Madame d'Aranjuez. The situation was awkward +in the extreme. Orsino hoped that Del Ferice would go at once, and thus +avoid the necessity of an introduction. But Ugo did nothing of the kind. +He rose, indeed, but did not take his hat from the table, and stood +smiling pleasantly while Orsino shook hands with Maria Consuelo. + +"Let me make you acquainted," she said with exasperating calmness, and +she named the two men to each other. + +Ugo put out his hand quietly and Orsino was obliged to take it, which he +did coldly enough. Ugo had more than his share of tact, and he never +made a disagreeable impression upon any one if he could help it. Maria +Consuelo seemed to take everything for granted, and Orsino's appearance +did not disconcert her in the slightest degree. Both men sat down and +looked at her as though expecting that she would choose a subject of +conversation for them. + +"We were talking of the change in Rome," she said. "Monsieur Del Ferice +takes a great interest in all that is doing, and he was explaining to me +some of the difficulties with which he has to contend." + +"Don Orsino knows what they are, as well as I, though we might perhaps +differ as to the way of dealing with them," said Del Ferice. + +"Yes," answered Orsino, more coldly than was necessary. "You play the +active part, and we the passive." + +"In a certain sense, yes," returned the other, quite unruffled. "You +have exactly defined the situation, and ours is by far the more +disagreeable and thankless part to play. Oh--I am not going to defend +all we have done! I only defend what we mean to do. Change of any sort +is execrable to the man of taste, unless it is brought about by +time--and that is a beautifier which we have not at our disposal. We are +half Vandals and half Americans, and we are in a terrible hurry." + +Maria Consuelo laughed, and Orsino's face became a shade less gloomy. He +had expected to find Del Ferice the arrogant, self-satisfied apostle of +the modern, which he was represented to be. + +"Could you not have taken a little more time?" asked Orsino. + +"I cannot see how. Besides it is our time which takes us with it. So +long as Rome was the capital of an idea there was no need of haste in +doing anything. But when it became the capital of a modern kingdom, it +fell a victim to modern facts--which are not beautiful. The most we can +hope to do is to direct the current, clumsily enough, I daresay. We +cannot stop it. Nothing short of Oriental despotism could. We cannot +prevent people from flocking to the centre, and where there is a +population it must be housed." + +"Evidently," said Madame d'Aranjuez. + +"It seems to me that, without disturbing the old city, a new one might +have been built beside it," observed Orsino. + +"No doubt. And that is practically what we have done. I say 'we,' +because you say 'you.' But I think you will admit that, as far as +personal activity is concerned, the Romans of Rome are taking as active +a share in building ugly houses as any of the Italian Romans. The +destruction of the Villa Ludovisi, for instance, was forced upon the +owner not by the national government but by an insane municipality, and +those who have taken over the building lots are largely Roman princes of +the old stock." + +The argument was unanswerable, and Orsino knew it, a fact which did not +improve his temper. It was disagreeable enough to be forced into a +conversation with Del Ferice, and it was still worse to be obliged to +agree with him. Orsino frowned and said nothing, hoping that the subject +would drop. But Del Ferice had only produced an unpleasant impression in +order to remove it and thereby improve the whole situation, which was +one of the most difficult in which he had found himself for some time. + +"I repeat," he said, with a pleasant smile, "that it is hopeless to +defend all of what is actually done in our day in Rome. Some of your +friends and many of mine are building houses which even age and ruin +will never beautify. The only defensible part of the affair is the +political change which has brought about the necessity of building at +all, and upon that point I think that we may agree to differ. Do you not +think so, Don Orsino?" + +"By all means," answered the young man, conscious that the proposal was +both just and fitting. + +"And for the rest, both your friends and mine--for all I know, your own +family and certainly I myself--have enormous interests at stake. We may +at least agree to hope that none of us may be ruined." + +"Certainly--though we have had nothing to do with the matter. Neither my +father nor my grandfather have entered into any such speculation." + +"It is a pity," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. + +"Why a pity?" + +"On the one hand my instincts are basely commercial," Del Ferice +answered with a frank laugh. "No matter how great a fortune may be, it +may be doubled and trebled. You must remember that I am a banker in fact +if not exactly in designation, and the opportunity is excellent. But the +greater pity is that such men as you, Don Orsino, who could exercise as +much influence as it might please you to use, leave it to men--very +unlike you, I fancy--to murder the architecture of Rome and prepare the +triumph of the hideous." + +Orsino did not answer the remark, although he was not altogether +displeased with the idea it conveyed. Maria Consuelo looked at him. + +"Why do you stand aloof and let things go from bad to worse when you +might really do good by joining in the affairs of the day?" she asked. + +"I could not join in them, if I would," answered Orsino. + +"Why not?" + +"Because I have not command of a hundred francs in the world, Madame. +That is the simplest and best of all reasons." + +Del Ferice laughed incredulously. + +"The eldest son of Casa Saracinesca would not find that a practical +obstacle," he said, taking his hat and rising to go. "Besides, what is +needed in these transactions is not so much ready money as courage, +decision and judgment. There is a rich firm of contractors now doing a +large business, who began with three thousand francs as their whole +capital--what you might lose at cards in an evening without missing it, +though you say that you have no money at your command." + +"Is that possible?" asked Orsino with some interest. + +"It is a fact. There were three men, a tobacconist, a carpenter and a +mason, and they each had a thousand francs of savings. They took over a +contract last week for a million and a half, on which they will clear +twenty per cent. But they had the qualities--the daring and the prudence +combined. They succeeded." + +"And if they had failed, what would have happened?" + +"They would have lost their three thousand francs. They had nothing else +to lose, and there was nothing in the least irregular about their +transactions. Good evening, Madame--I have a private meeting of +directors at my house. Good evening, Don Orsino." + +He went out, leaving behind him an impression which was not by any means +disagreeable. His appearance was against him, Orsino thought. His fat +white face and dull eyes were not pleasant to look at. But he had shown +tact in a difficult situation, and there was a quiet energy about him, a +settled purpose which could not fail to please a young man who hated his +own idleness. + +Orsino found that his mood had changed. He was less angry than he had +meant to be, and he saw extenuating circumstances where he had at first +only seen a wilful mistake. He sat down again. + +"Confess that he is not the impossible creature you supposed," said +Maria Consuelo with a laugh. + +"No, he is not. I had imagined something very different. Nevertheless, I +wish--one never has the least right to wish what one wishes--" He +stopped in the middle of the sentence. + +"That I had not gone to his wife's party, you would say? But my dear Don +Orsino, why should I refuse pleasant things when they come into my +life?" + +"Was it so pleasant?" + +"Of course it was. A beautiful dinner--half a dozen clever men, all +interested in the affairs of the day, and all anxious to explain them to +me because I was a stranger. A hundred people or so in the evening, who +all seemed to enjoy themselves as much as I did. Why should I refuse all +that? Because my first acquaintance in Rome--who was Gouache--is so +'indifferent,' and because you--my second--are a pronounced clerical? +That is not reasonable." + +"I do not pretend to be reasonable," said Orsino. "To be reasonable is +the boast of people who feel nothing." + +"Then you are a man of heart?" Maria Consuelo seemed amused. + +"I make no pretence to being a man of head, Madame." + +"You are not easily caught." + +"Nor Del Ferice either." + +"Why do you talk of him?" + +"The opportunity is good, Madame. As he is just gone, we know that he is +not coming." + +"You can be very sarcastic, when you like," said Maria Consuelo. "But I +do not believe that you are as bitter as you make yourself out to be. I +do not even believe that you found Del Ferice so very disagreeable as +you pretend. You were certainly interested in what he said." + +"Interest is not always agreeable. The guillotine, for instance, +possesses the most lively interest for the condemned man at an +execution." + +"Your illustrations are startling. I once saw an execution, quite by +accident, and I would rather not think of it. But you can hardly compare +Del Ferice to the guillotine." + +"He is as noiseless, as keen and as sure," said Orsino smartly. + +"There is such a thing as being too clever," answered Maria Consuelo, +without a smile. + +"Is Del Ferice a case of that?" + +"No. You are. You say cutting things merely because they come into your +head, though I am sure that you do not always mean them. It is a bad +habit." + +"Because it makes enemies, Madame?" Orsino was annoyed by the rebuke. + +"That is the least good of good reasons." + +"Another, then?" + +"It will prevent people from loving you," said Maria Consuelo gravely. + +"I never heard that--" + +"No? It is true, nevertheless." + +"In that case I will reform at once," said Orsino, trying to meet her +eyes. But she looked away from him. + +"You think that I am preaching to you," she answered. "I have not the +right to do that, and if I had, I would certainly not use it. But I have +seen something of the world. Women rarely love a man who is bitter +against any one but himself. If he says cruel things of other women, the +one to whom he says them believes that he will say much worse of her to +the next he meets; if he abuses the men she knows, she likes it even +less--it is an attack on her judgment, on her taste and perhaps upon a +half-developed sympathy for the man attacked. One should never be witty +at another person's expense, except with one's own sex." She laughed a +little. + +"What a terrible conclusion!" + +"Is it? It is the true one." + +"Then the way to win a woman's love is to praise her acquaintances? That +is original." + +"I never said that." + +"No? I misunderstood. What is the best way?" + +"Oh--it is very simple," laughed Maria Consuelo. + +"Tell her you love her, and tell her so again and again--you will +certainly please her in the end." + +"Madame--" Orsino stopped, and folded his hands with an air of devout +supplication. + +"What?" + +"Oh, nothing! I was about to begin. It seemed so simple, as you say." + +They both laughed and their eyes met for a moment. + +"Del Ferice interests me very much," said Maria Consuelo, abruptly +returning to the original subject of conversation. "He is one of those +men who will be held responsible for much that is now doing. Is it not +true? He has great influence." + +"I have always heard so." Orsino was not pleased at being driven to talk +of Del Ferice again. + +"Do you think what he said about you so altogether absurd?" + +"Absurd, no--impracticable, perhaps. You mean his suggestion that I +should try a little speculation? Frankly, I had no idea that such things +could be begun with so little capital. It seems incredible. I fancy that +Del Ferice was exaggerating. You know how carelessly bankers talk of a +few thousands, more or less. Nothing short of a million has much meaning +for them. Three thousand or thirty thousand--it is much the same in +their estimation." + +"I daresay. After all, why should you risk anything? I suppose it is +simpler to play cards, though I should think it less amusing. I was only +thinking how easy it would be for you to find a serious occupation if +you chose." + +Orsino was silent for a moment, and seemed to be thinking over the +matter. + +"Would you advise me to enter upon such a business without my father's +knowledge?" he asked presently. + +"How can I advise you? Besides, your father would let you do as you +please. There is nothing dishonourable in such things. The prejudice +against business is old-fashioned, and if you do not break through it +your children will." + +Orsino looked thoughtfully at Maria Consuelo. She sometimes found an +oddly masculine bluntness with which to express her meaning, and which +produced a singular impression on the young man. It made him feel what +he supposed to be a sort of weakness, of which he ought to be ashamed. + +"There is nothing dishonourable in the theory," he answered, "and the +practice depends on the individual." + +Maria Consuelo laughed. + +"You see--you can be a moralist when you please," she said. + +There was a wonderful attraction in her yellow eyes just at that moment. + +"To please you, Madame, I could do something much worse--or much +better." + +He was not quite in earnest, but he was not jesting, and his face was +more serious than his voice. Maria Consuelo's hand was lying on the +table beside the silver paper-cutter. The white, pointed fingers were +very tempting and he would willingly have touched them. He put out his +hand. If she did not draw hers away he would lay his own upon it. If she +did, he would take up the paper-cutter. As it turned out, he had to +content himself with the latter. She did not draw her hand away as +though she understood what he was going to do, but quietly raised it and +turned the shade of the lamp a few inches. + +"I would rather not be responsible for your choice," she said quietly. + +"And yet you have left me none," he answered with, sudden boldness. + +"No? How so?" + +He held up the silver knife and smiled. + +"I do not understand," she said, affecting a look of surprise. + +"I was going to ask your permission to take your hand." + +"Indeed? Why? There it is." She held it out frankly. + +He took the beautiful fingers in his and looked at them for a moment. +Then he quietly raised them to his lips. + +"That was not included in the permission," she said, with a little laugh +and drawing back. "Now you ought to go away at once." + +"Why?" + +"Because that little ceremony can belong only to the beginning or the +end of a visit." + +"I have only just come." + +"Ah? How long the time has seemed! I fancied you had been here half an +hour." + +"To me it has seemed but a minute," answered Orsino promptly. + +"And you will not go?" + +There was nothing of the nature of a peremptory dismissal in the look +which accompanied the words. + +"No--at the most, I will practise leave-taking." + +"I think not," said Maria Consuelo with sudden coldness. "You are a +little too--what shall I say?--too enterprising, prince. You had better +make use of the gift where it will be a recommendation--in business, for +instance." + +"You are very severe, Madame," answered Orsino, deeming it wiser to +affect humility, though a dozen sharp answers suggested themselves to +his ready wit. + +Maria Consuelo was silent for a few seconds. Her head was resting upon +the little red morocco cushion, which heightened the dazzling whiteness +of her skin and lent a deeper colour to her auburn hair. She was gazing +at the hangings above the door. Orsino watched her in quiet admiration. +She was beautiful as he saw her there at that moment, for the +irregularities of her features were forgotten in the brilliancy of her +colouring and in the grace of the attitude. Her face was serious at +first. Gradually a smile stole over it, beginning, as it seemed, from +the deeply set eyes and concentrating itself at last in the full, red +mouth. Then she spoke, still looking upwards and away from him. + +"What would you think if I were not a little severe?" she asked. "I am a +woman living--travelling, I should say--quite alone, a stranger here, +and little less than a stranger to you. What would you think if I were +not a little severe, I say? What conclusion would you come to, if I let +you take my hand as often as you pleased, and say whatever suggested +itself to your imagination--your very active imagination?" + +"I should think you the most adorable of women--" + +"But it is not my ambition to be thought the most adorable of women by +you, Prince Orsino." + +"No--of course not. People never care for what they get without an +effort." + +"You are absolutely irrepressible!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo, laughing +in spite of herself. + +"And you do not like that! I will be meekness itself--a lamb, if you +please." + +"Too playful--it would not suit your style." + +"A stone--" + +"I detest geology." + +"A lap-dog, then. Make your choice, Madame. The menagerie of the +universe is at your disposal. When Adam gave names to the animals, he +could have called a lion a lap-dog--to reassure the Africans. But he +lacked imagination--he called a cat, a cat." + +"That had the merit of simplicity, at all events." + +"Since you admire his system, you may call me either Cain or Abel," +suggested Orsino. "Am I humble enough? Can submission go farther?" + +"Either would be flattery--for Abel was good and Cain was interesting." + +"And I am neither--you give me another opportunity of exhibiting my deep +humility. I thank you sincerely. You are becoming more gracious than I +had hoped." + +"You are very like a woman, Don Orsino. You always try to have the last +word." + +"I always hope that the last word may be the best. But I accept the +criticism--or the reproach, with my usual gratitude. I only beg you to +observe that to let you have the last word would be for me to end the +conversation, after which I should be obliged to go away. And I do not +wish to go, as I have already said." + +"You suggest the means of making you go," answered Maria Consuelo, with +a smile. "I can be silent--if you will not." + +"It will be useless. If you do not interrupt me, I shall become +eloquent--" + +"How terrible! Pray do not!" + +"You see! I have you in my power. You cannot get rid of me." + +"I would appeal to your generosity, then." + +"That is another matter, Madame," said Orsino, taking his hat. + +"I only said that I would--" Maria Consuelo made a gesture to stop him. + +But he was wise enough to see that the conversation had reached its +natural end, and his instinct told him that he should not outstay his +welcome. He pretended not to see the motion of her hand, and rose to +take his leave. + +"You do not know me," he said. "To point out to me a possible generous +action, is to ensure my performing it without hesitation. When may I be +so fortunate as to see you again, Madame?" + +"You need not be so intensely ceremonious. You know that I am always at +home at this hour." + +Orsino was very much struck by this answer. There was a shade of +irritation in the tone, which he had certainly not expected, and which +flattered him exceedingly. She turned her face away as she gave him her +hand and moved a book on the table with the other as though she meant to +begin reading almost before he should be out of the room. He had not +felt by any means sure that she really liked his society, and he had not +expected that she would so far forget herself as to show her inclination +by her impatience. He had judged, rightly or wrongly, that she was a +woman who weighed every word and gesture beforehand, and who would be +incapable of such an oversight as an unpremeditated manifestation of +feeling. + +Very young men are nowadays apt to imagine complications of character +where they do not exist, often overlooking them altogether where they +play a real part. The passion for analysis discovers what it takes for +new simple elements in humanity's motives, and often ends by feeding on +itself in the effort to decompose what is not composite. The greatest +analysers are perhaps the young and the old, who, being respectively +before and behind the times, are not so intimate with them as those who +are actually making history, political or social, ethical or scandalous, +dramatic or comic. + +It is very much the custom among those who write fiction in the English +language to efface their own individuality behind the majestic but +rather meaningless plural, "we," or to let the characters created +express the author's view of mankind. The great French novelists are +more frank, for they say boldly "I," and have the courage of their +opinions. Their merit is the greater, since those opinions seem to be +rarely complimentary to the human race in general, or to their readers +in particular. Without introducing any comparison between the fiction of +the two languages, it may be said that the tendency of the method is +identical in both cases and is the consequence of an extreme preference +for analysis, to the detriment of the romantic and very often of the +dramatic element in the modern novel. The result may or may not be a +volume of modern social history for the instruction of the present and +the future generation. If it is not, it loses one of the chief merits +which it claims; if it is, then we must admit the rather strange +deduction, that the political history of our times has absorbed into +itself all the romance and the tragedy at the disposal of destiny, +leaving next to none at all in the private lives of the actors and +their numerous relations. + +Whatever the truth may be, it is certain that this love of minute +dissection is exercising an enormous influence in our time; and as no +one will pretend that a majority of the young persons in society who +analyse the motives of their contemporaries and elders are successful +moral anatomists, we are forced to the conclusion that they are +frequently indebted to their imaginations for the results they obtain +and not seldom for the material upon which they work. A real Chemistry +may some day grow out of the failures of this fanciful Alchemy, but the +present generation will hardly live to discover the philosopher's stone, +though the search for it yield gold, indirectly, by the writing of many +novels. If fiction is to be counted among the arts at all, it is not yet +time to forget the saying of a very great man: "It is the mission of all +art to create and foster agreeable illusions." + +Orsino Saracinesca was no further removed from the action of the +analytical bacillus than other men of his age. He believed and desired +his own character to be more complicated than it was, and he had no +sooner made the acquaintance of Maria Consuelo than he began to +attribute to her minutest actions such a tortuous web of motives as +would have annihilated all action if it had really existed in her brain. +The possible simplicity of a strong and much tried character, good or +bad, altogether escaped him, and even an occasional unrestrained word or +gesture failed to convince him that he was on the wrong track. To tell +the truth, he was as yet very inexperienced. His visits to Maria +Consuelo passed in making light conversation. He tried to amuse her, and +succeeded fairly well, while at the same time he indulged in endless and +fruitless speculations as to her former life, her present intentions and +her sentiments with regard to himself. He would have liked to lead her +into talking of herself, but he did not know where to begin. It was not +a part of his system to believe in mysteries concerning people, but +when he reflected upon the matter he was amazed at the impenetrability +of the barrier which cut him off from all knowledge of her life. He soon +heard the tales about her which were carelessly circulated at the club, +and he listened to them without much interest, though he took the +trouble to deny their truth on his own responsibility, which surprised +the men who knew him and gave rise to the story that he was in love with +Madame d'Aranjuez. The most annoying consequence of the rumour was that +every woman to whom he spoke in society overwhelmed him with questions +which he could not answer except in the vaguest terms. In his ignorance +he did his best to evolve a satisfactory history for Maria Consuelo out +of his imagination, but the result was not satisfactory. + +He continued his visits to her, resolving before each meeting that he +would risk offending her by putting some question which she must either +answer directly or refuse to answer altogether. But he had not counted +upon his own inherent hatred of rudeness, nor upon the growth of an +attachment which he had not foreseen when he had coldly made up his mind +that it would be worth while to make love to her, as Gouache had +laughingly suggested. Yet he was pleased with what he deemed his own +coldness. He assuredly did not love her, but he knew already that he +would not like to give up the half hours he spent with her. To offend +her seriously would be to forfeit a portion of his daily amusement which +he could not spare. + +From time to time he risked a careless, half-jesting declaration such as +many a woman might have taken seriously. But Maria Consuelo turned such +advances with a laugh or by an answer that was admirably tempered with +quiet dignity and friendly rebuke. + +"If she is not good," he said to himself at last, "she must be +enormously clever. She must be one or the other." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Orsino's twenty-first birthday fell in the latter part of January, when +the Roman season was at its height, but as the young man's majority did +not bring him any of those sudden changes in position which make epochs +in the lives of fatherless sons, the event was considered as a family +matter and no great social celebration of it was contemplated. It +chanced, too, that the day of the week was the one appropriated by the +Montevarchi for their weekly dance, with which it would have been a +mistake to interfere. The old Prince Saracinesca, however, insisted that +a score of old friends should be asked to dinner, to drink the health of +his eldest grandson, and this was accordingly done. + +Orsino always looked back to that banquet as one of the dullest at which +he ever assisted. The friends were literally old, and their conversation +was not brilliant. Each one on arriving addressed to him a few +congratulatory and moral sentiments, clothed in rounded periods and +twanging of Cicero in his most sermonising mood. Each drank his especial +health at the end of the dinner in a teaspoonful of old "vin santo," and +each made a stiff compliment to Corona on her youthful appearance. The +men were almost all grandees of Spain of the first class and wore their +ribbons by common consent, which lent the assembly an imposing +appearance; but several of them were of a somnolent disposition and +nodded after dinner, which did not contribute to prolong the effect +produced. Orsino thought their stories and anecdotes very long-winded +and pointless, and even the old prince himself seemed oppressed by the +solemnity of the affair, and rarely laughed. Corona, with serene good +humour did her best to make conversation, and a shade of animation +occasionally appeared at her end of the table; but Sant' Ilario was +bored to the verge of extinction and talked of nothing but archaeology +and the trial of the Cenci, wondering inwardly why he chose such +exceedingly dry subjects. As for Orsino, the two old princesses between +whom he was placed paid very little attention to him, and talked across +him about the merits of their respective confessors and directors. He +frivolously asked them whether they ever went to the theatre, to which +they replied very coldly that they went to their boxes when the piece +was not on the Index and when there was no ballet. Orsino understood why +he never saw them at the opera, and relapsed into silence. The butler, a +son of the legendary Pasquale of earlier days, did his best to cheer the +youngest of his masters with a great variety of wines; but Orsino would +not be comforted either by very dry champagne or very mellow claret. But +he vowed a bitter revenge and swore to dance till three in the morning +at the Montevarchi's and finish the night with a rousing baccarat at the +club, which projects he began to put into execution as soon as was +practicable. + +In due time the guests departed, solemnly renewing their expressions of +good wishes, and the Saracinesca household was left to itself. The old +prince stood before the fire in the state drawing-room, rubbing his +hands and shaking his head. Giovanni and Corona sat on opposite sides of +the fireplace, looking at each other and somewhat inclined to laugh. +Orsino was intently studying a piece of historical tapestry which had +never interested him before. + +The silence lasted some time. Then old Saracinesca raised his head and +gave vent to his feelings, with all his old energy. + +"What a museum!" he exclaimed. "I would not have believed that I should +live to dine in my own house with a party of stranded figure-heads, set +up in rows around my table! The paint is all worn off and the brains are +all worn out and there is nothing left but a cracked old block of wood +with a ribbon around its neck. You will be just like them, Giovanni, in +a few years, for you will be just like me--we all turn into the same +shape at seventy, and if we live a dozen years longer it is because +Providence designs to make us an awful example to the young." + +"I hope you do not call yourself a figure-head," said Giovanni. + +"They are calling me by worse names at this very minute as they drive +home. 'That old Methuselah of a Saracinesca, how has he the face to go +on living?' That is the way they talk. 'People ought to die decently +when other people have had enough of them, instead of sitting up at the +table like death's-heads to grin at their grandchildren and +great-grandchildren!' They talk like that, Giovanni. I have known some +of those old monuments for sixty years and more--since they were babies +and I was of Orsino's age. Do you suppose I do not know how they talk? +You always take me for a good, confiding old fellow, Giovanni. But then, +you never understood human nature." + +Giovanni laughed and Corona smiled. Orsino turned round to enjoy the +rare delight of seeing the old gentleman rouse himself in a fit of +temper. + +"If you were ever confiding it was because you were too good," said +Giovanni affectionately. + +"Yes--good and confiding--that is it! You always did agree with me as to +my own faults. Is it not true, Corona? Can you not take my part against +that graceless husband of yours? He is always abusing me--as though I +were his property, or his guest. Orsino, my boy, go away--we are all +quarrelling here like a pack of wolves, and you ought to respect your +elders. Here is your father calling me by bad names--" + +"I said you were too good," observed Giovanni. + +"Yes--good and confiding! If you can find anything worse to say, say +it--and may you live to hear that good-for-nothing Orsino call you good +and confiding when you are eighty-two years old. And Corona is laughing +at me. It is insufferable. You used to be a good girl, Corona--but you +are so proud of having four sons that there is no possibility of talking +to you any longer. It is a pity that you have not brought them up +better. Look at Orsino. He is laughing too." + +"Certainly not at you, grandfather," the young man hastened to say. + +"Then you must be laughing at your father or your mother, or both, since +there is no one else here to laugh at. You are concocting sharp speeches +for your abominable tongue. I know it. I can see it in your eyes. That +is the way you have brought up your children, Giovanni. I congratulate +you. Upon my word, I congratulate you with all my heart! Not that I ever +expected anything better. You addled your own brains with curious +foreign ideas on your travels--the greater fool I for letting you run +about the world when you were young. I ought to have locked you up in +Saracinesca, on bread and water, until you understood the world well +enough to profit by it. I wish I had." + +None of the three could help laughing at this extraordinary speech. +Orsino recovered his gravity first, by the help of the historical +tapestry. The old gentleman noticed the fact. + +"Come here, Orsino, my boy," he said. "I want to talk to you." + +Orsino came forward. The old prince laid a hand on his shoulder and +looked up into his face. + +"You are twenty-one years old to-day," he said, "and we are all +quarrelling in honour of the event. You ought to be flattered that we +should take so much trouble to make the evening pass pleasantly for you, +but you probably have not the discrimination to see what your amusement +costs us." + +His grey beard shook a little, his rugged features twitched, and then a +broad good-humoured smile lit up the old face. + +"We are quarrelsome people," he continued in his most Cheerful and +hearty tone. "When Giovanni and I were young--we were young together, +you know--we quarrelled every day as regularly as we ate and drank. I +believe it was very good for us. We generally made it up before +night--for the sake of beginning again with a clear conscience. Anything +served us--the weather, the soup, the colour of a horse." + +"You must have led an extremely lively life," observed Orsino, +considerably amused. + +"It was very well for us, Orsino. But it will not do for you. You are +not so much like your father, as he was like me at your age. We fought +with the same weapons, but you two would not, if you fought at all. We +fenced for our own amusement and we kept the buttons on the foils. You +have neither my really angelic temper nor your father's stony +coolness--he is laughing again--no matter, he knows it is true. You have +a diabolical tongue. Do not quarrel with your father for amusement, +Orsino. His calmness will exasperate you as it does me, but you will not +laugh at the right moment as I have done all my life. You will bear +malice and grow sullen and permanently disagreeable. And do not say all +the cutting things you think of, because with your disposition you will +get into serious trouble. If you have really good cause for being angry, +it is better to strike than to speak, and in such cases I strongly +advise you to strike first. Now go and amuse yourself, for you must have +had enough of our company. I do not think of any other advice to give +you on your coming of age." + +Thereupon he laughed again and pushed his grandson away, evidently +delighted with the lecture he had given him. Orsino was quick to profit +by the permission and was soon in the Montevarchi ballroom, doing his +best to forget the lugubrious feast in his own honour at which he had +lately assisted. + +He was not altogether successful, however. He had looked forward to the +day for many months as one of rejoicing as well as of emancipation, and +he had been grievously disappointed. There was something of ill augury, +he thought, in the appalling dulness of the guests, for they had +congratulated him upon his entry into a life exactly similar to their +own. Indeed, the more precisely similar it proved to be, the more he +would be respected when he reached their advanced age. The future +unfolded to him was not gay. He was to live forty, fifty or even sixty +years in the same round of traditions and hampered by the same net of +prejudices. He might have his romance, as his father had had before him, +but there was nothing beyond that. His father seemed perfectly satisfied +with his own unruffled existence and far from desirous of any change. +The feudalism of it all was still real in fact, though abolished in +theory, and the old prince was as much a great feudal lord as ever, +whose interests were almost tribal in their narrowness, almost sordid in +their detail, and altogether uninteresting to his presumptive heir in +the third generation. What was the peasant of Aquaviva, for instance, to +Orsino? Yet Sant' Ilario and old Saracinesca took a lively interest in +his doings and in the doings of four or five hundred of his kind, whom +they knew by name and spoke of as belongings, much as they would have +spoken of books in the library. To collect rents from peasants and to +ascertain in person whether their houses needed repair was not a career. +Orsino thought enviously of San Giacinto's two sons, leading what seemed +to him a life of comparative activity and excitement in the Italian +army, and having the prospect of distinction by their own merits. He +thought of San Giacinto himself, of his ceaseless energy and of the +great position he was building up. San Giacinto was a Saracinesca as +well as Orsino, bearing the same name and perhaps not less respected +than the rest by the world at large, though he had sullied his hands +with finance. Even Del Ferice's position would have been above +criticism, but for certain passages in his earlier life not immediately +connected with his present occupation. And as if such instances were not +enough there were, to Orsino's certain knowledge, half a dozen men of +his father's rank even now deeply engaged in the speculations of the +day. Montevarchi was one of them, and neither he nor the others made any +secret of their doings. + +"Surely," thought Orsino, "I have as good a head as any of them, except, +perhaps, San Giacinto." + +And he grew more and more discontented with his lot, and more and more +angry at himself for submitting to be bound hand and foot and sacrificed +upon the altar of feudalism. Everything had disappointed and irritated +him on that day, the weariness of the dinner, the sight of his parents' +placid felicity, the advice his grandfather had given him--good of its +kind, but lamentably insufficient, to say the least of it. He was +rapidly approaching that state of mind in which young men do the most +unexpected things for the mere pleasure of surprising their relations. + +He grew tired of the ball, because Madame d'Aranjuez was not there. He +longed to dance with her and he wished that he were at liberty to +frequent the houses la which she was asked. But as yet she saw only the +Whites and had not made the acquaintance of a single Grey family, in +spite of his entreaties. He could not tell whether she had any fixed +reason in making her choice, or whether as yet it had been the result of +chance, but he discovered that he was bored wherever he went because she +was not present. At supper-time on this particular evening, he entered +into a conspiracy with certain choice spirits to leave the party and +adjourn to the club and cards. + +The sight of the tables revived him and he drew a long breath as he sat +down with a cigarette in his mouth and a glass at his elbow. It seemed +as though the day were beginning at last. + +Orsino was no more a born gambler than he was disposed to be a hard +drinker. He loved excitement in any shape, and being so constituted as +to bear it better than most men, he took it greedily in whatever form it +was offered to him. He neither played nor drank every day, but when he +did either he was inclined to play more than other people and to consume +more strong liquor. Yet his judgment was not remarkable, nor his head +much stronger than the heads of his companions. Great gamblers do not +drink, and great drinkers are not good players, though they are +sometimes amazingly lucky when in their cups. + +It is of no use to deny the enormous influence of brandy and games of +chance on the men of the present day, but there is little profit in +describing such scenes as take place nightly in many clubs all over +Europe. Something might be gained, indeed, if we could trace the causes +which have made gambling especially the vice of our generation, for that +discovery might show us some means of influencing the next. But I do not +believe that this is possible. The times have undoubtedly grown more +dull, as civilisation has made them more alike, but there is, I think, +no truth in the common statement that vice is bred of idleness. The +really idle man is a poor creature, incapable of strong sins. It is far +more often the man of superior gifts, with faculties overwrought and +nerves strained above concert pitch by excessive mental exertion, who +turns to vicious excitement for the sake of rest, as a duller man falls +asleep. Men whose lives are spent amidst the vicissitudes, surprises and +disappointments of the money market are assuredly less idle than country +gentlemen; the busy lawyer has less time to spare than the equally +gifted fellow of a college; the skilled mechanic works infinitely +harder, taking the average of the whole year, than the agricultural +labourer; the life of a sailor on an ordinary merchant ship is one of +rest, ease and safety compared with that of the collier. Yet there can +hardly be a doubt as to which individual in each example is the one to +seek relaxation in excitement, innocent or the reverse, instead of in +sleep. The operator in the stock market, the barrister, the mechanic, +the miner, in every case the men whose faculties are the more severely +strained, are those who seek strong emotions in their daily leisure, and +who are the more inclined to extend that leisure at the expense of +bodily rest. It may be objected that the worst vice is found in the +highest grades of society, that is to say, among men who have no settled +occupation. I answer that, in the first place, this is not a known fact, +but a matter of speculation, and that the conclusion is principally +drawn from the circumstance that the evil deeds of such persons, when +they become known, are very severely criticised by those whose criticism +has the most weight, namely by the equals of the sinners in question--as +well as by writers of fiction whose opinions may or may not be worth +considering. For one Zola, historian of the Rougon-Macquart family, +there are a hundred would-be Zolas, censors of a higher class, less +unpleasantly fond of accurate detail, perhaps, but as merciless in +intention. But even if the case against society be proved, which is +possible, I do not think that society can truly be called idle, because +many of those who compose it have no settled occupation. The social day +is a long one. Society would not accept the eight hours' system demanded +by the labour unions. Society not uncommonly works at a high pressure +for twelve, fourteen and even sixteen hours at a stretch. The mental +strain, though, not of the most intellectual order, is incomparably more +severe than that required for success in many lucrative professions or +crafts. The general absence of a distinct aim sharpens the faculties in +the keen pursuit of details, and lends an importance to trifles which +overburdens at every turn the responsibility borne by the nerves. Lazy +people are not favourites in drawing-rooms, and still less at the +dinner-table. Consider also that the average man of the world, and many +women, daily sustain an amount of bodily fatigue equal perhaps to that +borne by many mechanics and craftsmen and much greater than that +required in the liberal professions, and that, too, under far less +favourable conditions. Recapitulate all these points. Add together the +physical effort, the mental activity, the nervous strain. Take the sum +and compare it with that got by a similar process from other conditions +of existence. I think there can be little doubt of the verdict. The +force exerted is wasted, if you please, but it is enormously great, and +more than sufficient to prove that those who daily exert it are by no +means idle. Besides, none of the inevitable outward and visible results +of idleness are apparent in the ordinary society man or woman. On the +contrary, most of them exhibit the peculiar and unmistakable signs of +physical exhaustion, chief of which is cerebral anĉmia. They are +overtrained and overworked. In the language of training they are +"stale." + +Men like Orsino Saracinesca are not vicious at his age, though they may +become so. Vice begins when the excitement ceases to be a matter of +taste and turns into a necessity. Orsino gambled because it amused him +when no other amusement was obtainable, and he drank while he played +because it made the amusement seem more amusing. He was far too young +and healthy and strong to feel an irresistible longing for anything not +natural. + +On the present occasion he cared very little, at first, whether he won +or lost, and as often happens to a man in that mood he won a +considerable sum during the first hour. The sight of the notes before +him strengthened an idea which had crossed his mind more than once of +late, and the stimulants he drank suddenly fixed it into a purpose. It +was true that he did not command any sum of money which could be +dignified by the name of capital, but he generally had enough in his +pocket to play with, and to-night he had rather more than usual. It +struck him that if he could win a few thousands by a run of luck, he +would have more than enough to try his fortune in the building +speculations of which Del Ferice had talked. The scheme took shape and +at once lent a passionate interest to his play. + +Orsino had no system and generally left everything to chance, but he +had no sooner determined that he must win than he improvised a method, +and began to play carefully. Of course he lost, and as he saw his heap +of notes diminishing, he filled his glass more and more often. By two +o'clock he had but five hundred francs left, his face was deadly pale, +the lights dazzled him and his hands moved uncertainly. He held the bank +and he knew that if he lost on the card he must borrow money, which he +did not wish to do. + +He dealt himself a five of spades, and glanced at the stakes. They were +considerable. A last sensation of caution prevented him from taking +another card. The table turned up a six and he lost. + +"Lend me some money, Filippo," he said to the man nearest him, who +immediately counted out a number of notes. + +Orsino paid with the money and the bank passed. He emptied his glass and +lit a cigarette. At each succeeding deal he staked a small sum and lost +it, till the bank came to him again. Once more he held a five. The other +men saw that he was losing and put up all they could. Orsino hesitated. +Some one observed justly that he probably held a five again. The lights +swam indistinctly before him and he drew another card. It was a four. +Orsino laughed nervously as he gathered the notes and paid back what he +had borrowed. + +He did not remember clearly what happened afterwards. The faces of the +cards grew less distinct and the lights more dazzling. He played blindly +and won almost without interruption until the other men dropped off one +by one, having lost as much as they cared to part with at one sitting. +At four o'clock in the morning Orsino went home in a cab, having about +fifteen thousand francs in his pockets. The men he had played with were +mostly young fellows like himself, having a limited allowance of pocket +money, and Orsino's winnings were very large under the circumstances. + +The night air cooled his head and he laughed gaily to himself as he +drove through the deserted streets. His hand was steady enough now, and +the gas lamps did not move disagreeably before his eyes. But he had +reached the stage of excitement in which a fixed idea takes hold of the +brain, and if it had been possible he would undoubtedly have gone as he +was, in evening dress, with his winnings in his pocket, to rouse Del +Ferice, or San Giacinto, or any one else who could put him in the way of +risking his money on a building lot. He reluctantly resigned himself to +the necessity of going to bed, and slept as one sleeps at twenty-one +until nearly eleven o'clock on the following morning. + +While he dressed he recalled the circumstances of the previous night and +was surprised to find that his idea was as fixed as ever. He counted the +money. There was five times as much as the Del Ferice's carpenter, +tobacconist and mason had been able to scrape together amongst them. He +had therefore, according to his simple calculation, just five times as +good a chance of succeeding as they. And they had been successful. His +plan fascinated him, and he looked forward to the constant interest and +occupation with a delight which was creditable to his character. He +would be busy and the magic word "business" rang in his ears. It was +speculation, no doubt, but he did not look upon it as a form of +gambling; if he had done so, he would not have cared for it on two +consecutive days. It was something much better in his eyes. It was to do +something, to be some one, to strike out of the everlastingly dull road +which lay before him and which ended in the vanishing point of an +insignificant old age. + +He had not the very faintest conception of what that business was with +which he aspired to occupy himself. He was totally ignorant of the +methods of dealing with money, and he no more knew what a draft at three +months meant than he could have explained the construction of the watch +he carried in his pocket. Of the first principles of building he knew, +if possible, even less and he did not know whether land in the city +were worth a franc or a thousand francs by the square foot. But he said +to himself that those things were mere details, and that he could learn +all he needed of them in a fortnight. Courage and judgment, Del Ferice +had said, were the chief requisites for success. Courage he possessed, +and he believed himself cool. He would avail himself of the judgment of +others until he could judge for himself. + +He knew very well what his father would think of the whole plan, but he +had no intention of concealing his project. Since yesterday, he was of +age and was therefore his own master to the extent of his own small +resources. His father had not the power to keep him from entering upon +any honourable undertaking, though he might justly refuse to be +responsible for the consequences. At the worst, thought Orsino, those +consequences might be the loss of the money he had in hand. Since he had +nothing else to risk, he had nothing else to lose. That is the light in +which most inexperienced people regard speculation. Orsino therefore +went to his father and unfolded his scheme, without mentioning Del +Ferice. + +Sant' Ilario listened rather impatiently and laughed when Orsino had +finished. He did not mean to be unkind, and if he had dreamed of the +effect his manner would produce, he would have been more careful. But he +did not understand his son, as he himself had been understood by his own +father. + +"This is all nonsense, my boy," he answered. "It is a mere passing +fancy. What do you know of business or architecture, or of a dozen other +matters which you ought to understand thoroughly before attempting +anything like what you propose?" + +Orsino was silent, and looked out of the window, though he was evidently +listening. + +"You say you want an occupation. This is not one. Banking is an +occupation, and architecture is a career, but what we call affairs in +Rome are neither one nor the other. If you want to be a banker you must +go into a bank and do clerk's work for years. If you mean to follow +architecture as a profession you must spend four or five years in study +at the very least." + +"San Giacinto has not done that," observed Orsino coldly. + +"San Giacinto has a very much better head on his shoulders than you, or +I, or almost any other man in Rome. He has known how to make use of +other men's talents, and he had a rather more practical education than I +would have cared to give you. If he were not one of the most honest men +alive he would certainly have turned out one of the greatest +scoundrels." + +"I do not see what that has to do with it," said Orsino. + +"Not much, I confess. But his early life made him understand men as you +and I cannot understand them, and need not, for that matter." + +"Then you object to my trying this?" + +"I do nothing of the kind. When I object to the doing of anything I +prevent it, by fair words or by force. I am not inclined for a pitched +battle with you, Orsino, and I might not get the better of you after +all. I will be perfectly neutral. I will have nothing to do with this +business. If I believed in it, I would give you all the capital you +could need, but I shall not diminish your allowance in order to hinder +you from throwing it away. If you want more money for your amusements or +luxuries, say so. I am not fond of counting small expenses, and I have +not brought you up to count them either. Do not gamble at cards any more +than you can help, but if you lose and must borrow, borrow of me. When I +think you are going too far, I will tell you so. But do not count upon +me for any help in this scheme of yours. You will not get it. If you +find yourself in a commercial scrape, find your own way out of it. If +you want better advice than mine, go to San Giacinto. He will give you a +practical man's view of the case." + +"You are frank, at all events," said Orsino, turning from the window +and facing his father. + +"Most of us are in this house," answered Sant' Ilario. "That will make +it all the harder for you to deal with the scoundrels who call +themselves men of business." + +"I mean to try this, father," said the young man. "I will go and see San +Giacinto, as you suggest, and I will ask his opinion. But if he +discourages me I will try my luck all the same. I cannot lead this life +any longer. I want an occupation and I will make one for myself." + +"It is not an occupation that you want, Orsino. It is another +excitement. That is all. If you want an occupation, study, learn +something, find out what work means. Or go to Saracinesca and build +houses for the peasants--you will do no harm there, at all events. Go +and drain that land in Lombardy--I can do nothing with it and would sell +it if I could. But that is not what you want. You want an excitement for +the hours of the morning. Very well. You will probably find more of it +than you like. Try it, that is all I have to say." + +Like many very just men Giovanni could state a case with alarming +unfairness when thoroughly convinced that he was right. Orsino stood +still for a moment and then walked towards the door without another +word. His father called him back. + +"What is it?" asked Orsino coldly. + +Sant' Ilario held out his hand with a kindly look in his eyes. + +"I do not want you to think that I am angry, my boy. There is to be no +ill feeling between us about this." + +"None whatever," said the young man, though without much alacrity, as he +shook hands with his father. "I see you are not angry. You do not +understand me, that is all." + +He went out, more disappointed with the result of the interview than he +had expected, though he had not looked forward to receiving any +encouragement. He had known very well what his father's views were but +he had not foreseen that he would be so much irritated by the +expression of them. His determination hardened and he resolved that +nothing should hinder him. But he was both willing and ready to consult +San Giacinto, and went to the latter's house immediately on leaving +Sant' Ilario's study. + +As for Giovanni, he was dimly conscious that he had made a mistake, +though he did not care to acknowledge it. He was a good horseman and he +was aware that he would have used a very different method with a restive +colt. But few men are wise enough to see that there is only one +universal principle to follow in the exertion of strength, moral or +physical; and instead of seeking analogies out of actions familiar to +them as a means of accomplishing the unfamiliar, they try to discover +new theories of motion at every turn and are led farther and farther +from the right line by their own desire to reach the end quickly. + +"At all events," thought Sant' Ilario, "the boy's new hobby will take +him to places where he is not likely to meet that woman." + +And with this discourteous reflection upon Madame d'Aranjuez he consoled +himself. He did not think it necessary to tell Corona of Orsino's +intentions, simply because he did not believe that they would lead to +anything serious, and there was no use in disturbing her unnecessarily +with visions of future annoyance. If Orsino chose to speak of it to her, +he was at liberty to do so. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Orsino went directly to San Giacinto's house, and found him in the room +which he used for working and in which he received the many persons whom +he was often obliged to see on business. The giant was alone and was +seated behind a broad polished table, occupied in writing. Orsino was +struck by the extremely orderly arrangement of everything he saw. Papers +were tied together in bundles of exactly like shape, which lay in two +lines of mathematical precision. The big inkstand was just in the middle +of the rows and a paper-cutter, a pen-rack and an erasing knife lay side +by side in front of it. The walls were lined with low book-cases of a +heavy and severe type, filled principally with documents neatly filed in +volumes and marked on the back in San Giacinto's clear handwriting. The +only object of beauty in the room was a full-length portrait of Flavia +by a great artist, which hung above the fireplace. The rigid symmetry of +everything was made imposing by the size of the objects--the table was +larger than ordinary tables, the easy-chairs were deeper, broader and +lower than common, the inkstand was bigger, even the penholder in San +Giacinto's fingers was longer and thicker than any Orsino had ever seen. +And yet the latter felt that there was no affectation about all this. +The man to whom these things belonged and who used them daily was +himself created on a scale larger than other men. + +Though he was older than Sant' Ilario and was, in fact, not far from +sixty years of age San Giacinto might easily have passed for less than +fifty. There was hardly a grey thread in his short, thick, black hair, +and he was still as lean and strong, and almost as active, as he had +been thirty years earlier. The large features were perhaps a little more +bony and the eyes somewhat deeper than they had been, but these changes +lent an air of dignity rather than of age to the face. + +He rose to meet Orsino and then made him sit down beside the table. The +young man suddenly felt an unaccountable sense of inferiority and +hesitated as to how he should begin. + +"I suppose you want to consult me about something," said San Giacinto +quietly. + +"Yes. I want to ask your advice, if you will give it to me--about a +matter of business." + +"Willingly. What is it?" + +Orsino was silent for a moment and stared at the wall. He was conscious +that the very small sum of which he could dispose must seem even smaller +in the eyes of such a man, but this did not disturb him. He was +oppressed by San Giacinto's personality and prepared himself to speak as +though he had been a student undergoing oral examination. He stated his +case plainly, when he at last spoke. He was of age and he looked forward +with dread to an idle life. All careers were closed to him. He had +fifteen thousand francs in his pocket. Could San Giacinto help him to +occupy himself by investing the sum in a building speculation? Was the +sum sufficient as a beginning? Those were the questions. + +San Giacinto did not laugh as Sant' Ilario had done. He listened very +attentively to the end and then deliberately offered Orsino a cigar and +lit one himself, before he delivered his answer. + +"You are asking the same question which is put to me very often," he +said at last. "I wish I could give you any encouragement. I cannot." + +Orsino's face fell, for the reply was categorical. He drew back a little +in his chair, but said nothing. + +"That is my answer," continued San Giacinto thoughtfully, "but when one +says 'no' to another the subject is not necessarily exhausted. On the +contrary, in such a case as this I cannot let you go without giving you +my reasons. I do not care to give my views to the public, but such as +they are, you are welcome to them. The time is past. That is why I +advise you to have nothing to do with any speculation of this kind. That +is the best of all reasons." + +"But you yourself are still engaged in this business," objected Orsino. + +"Not so deeply as you fancy. I have sold almost everything which I do +not consider a certainty, and am selling what little I still have as +fast as I can. In speculation there are only two important moments--the +moment to buy and the moment to sell. In my opinion, this is the time +to sell, and I do not think that the time for buying will come again +without a crisis." + +"But everything is in such a flourishing state--" + +"No doubt it is--to-day. But no one can tell what state business will be +in next week, nor even to-morrow." + +"There is Del Ferice--" + +"No doubt, and a score like him," answered San Giacinto, looking quietly +at Orsino. "Del Ferice is a banker, and I am a speculator, as you wish +to be. His position is different from ours. It is better to leave him +out of the question. Let us look at the matter logically. You wish to +speculate--" + +"Excuse me," said Orsino, interrupting him. "I want to try what I can do +in business." + +"You wish to risk money, in one way or another. You therefore wish one +or more of three things--money for its own sake, excitement or +occupation. I can hardly suppose that you want money. Eliminate that. +Excitement is not a legitimate aim, and you can get it more safely in +other ways. Therefore you want occupation." + +"That is precisely what I said at the beginning," observed Orsino with a +shade of irritation. + +"Yes. But I like to reach my conclusions in my own way. You are then a +young man in search of an occupation. Speculation, and what you propose +is nothing else, is no more an occupation than playing at the public +lottery and much less one than playing at baccarat. There at least you +are responsible for your own mistakes and in decent society you are safe +from the machinations of dishonest people. That would matter less if the +chances were in your favour, as they might have been a year ago and as +they were in mine from the beginning. They are against you now, because +it is too late, and they are against me. I would as soon buy a piece of +land on credit at the present moment, as give the whole sum in cash to +the first man I met in the street." + +"Yet there is Montevarchi who still buys--" + +"Montevarchi is not worth the paper on which he signs his name," said +San Giacinto calmly. + +Orsino uttered an exclamation of surprise and incredulity. + +"You may tell him so, if you please," answered the giant with perfect +indifference. "If you tell any one what I have said, please to tell him +first, that is all. He will not believe you. But in six months he will +know it, I fancy, as well as I know it now. He might have doubled his +fortune, but he was and is totally ignorant of business. He thought it +enough to invest all he could lay hands on and that the returns would be +sure. He has invested forty millions and owns property which he believes +to be worth sixty, but which will not bring ten in six months, and those +remaining ten millions he owes on all manner of paper, on mortgages on +his original property, in a dozen ways which he has forgotten himself." + +"I do not see how that is possible!" exclaimed Orsino. + +"I am a plain man, Orsino, and I am your cousin. You may take it for +granted that I am right. Do not forget that I was brought up in a +hand-to-hand struggle for fortune such as you cannot dream of. When I +was your age I was a practical man of business, and I had taught myself, +and it was all on such a small scale that a mistake of a hundred francs +made the difference between profit and loss. I dislike details, but I +have been a man of detail all my life, by force of circumstances. +Successful business implies the comprehension of details. It is tedious +work, and if you mean to try it you must begin at the beginning. You +ought to do so. There is an enormous business before you, with +considerable capabilities in it. If I were in your place, I would take +what fell naturally to my lot." + +"What is that?" + +"Farming. They call it agriculture in parliament, because they do not +know what farming means. The men who think that Italy can live without +farmers are fools. We are not a manufacturing people any more than we +are a business people. The best dictator for us would be a practical +farmer, a ploughman like Cincinnatus. Nobody who has not tried to raise +wheat on an Italian mountain-side knows the great difficulties or the +great possibilities of our country. Do you know that bad as our farming +is, and absurd as is our system of land taxation, we are food exporters, +to a small extent? The beginning is there. Take my advice, be a farmer. +Manage one of the big estates you have amongst you for five or six +years. You will not do much good to the land in that time, but you will +learn what land really means. Then go into parliament and tell people +facts. That is an occupation and a career as well, which cannot be said +of speculation in building lots, large or small. If you have any ready +money keep it in government bonds until you have a chance of buying +something worth keeping." + +Orsino went away disappointed and annoyed. San Giacinto's talk about +farming seemed very dull to him. To bury himself for half a dozen years +in the country in order to learn the rotation of crops and the +principles of land draining did not present itself as an attractive +career. If San Giacinto thought farming the great profession of the +future, why did he not try it himself? Orsino dismissed the idea rather +indignantly, and his determination to try his luck became stronger by +the opposition it met. Moreover he had expected very different language +from San Giacinto, whose sober view jarred on Orsino's enthusiastic +impulse. + +But he now found himself in considerable difficulty. He was ignorant +even of the first steps to be taken, and knew no one to whom he could +apply for information. There was Prince Montevarchi indeed, who though +he was San Giacinto's brother-in-law, seemed by the latter's account to +have got into trouble. He did not understand how San Giacinto could +allow his wife's brother to ruin himself without lending him a helping +hand, but San Giacinto was not the kind of man of whom people ask +indiscreet questions, and Orsino had heard that the two men were not on +the best of terms. Possibly good advice had been offered and refused. +Such affairs generally end in a breach of friendship. However that might +be, Orsino would not go to Montevarchi. + +He wandered aimlessly about the streets, and the money seemed to burn in +his pocket, though he had carefully deposited it in a place of safety at +home. Again and again Del Ferice's story of the carpenter and his two +companions recurred to his mind. He wondered how they had set about +beginning, and he wished he could ask Del Ferice himself. He could not +go to the man's house, but he might possibly meet him at Maria +Consuelo's. He was surprised to find that he had almost forgotten her in +his anxiety to become a man of business. It was too early to call yet, +and in order to kill the time he went home, got a horse from the stables +and rode out into the country for a couple of hours. + +At half-past five o'clock he entered the familiar little sitting-room in +the hotel. Madame d'Aranjuez was alone, cutting a new book with the +jewelled knife which continued to be the only object of the kind visible +in the room. She smiled as Orsino entered, and she laid aside the volume +as he sat down in his accustomed place. + +"I thought you were not coming," she said. + +"Why?" + +"You always come at five. It is half-past to-day." Orsino looked at his +watch. + +"Do you notice whether I come or not?" he asked. + +Maria Consuelo glanced at his face, and laughed. + +"What have you been doing to-day?" she asked. "That is much more +interesting." + +"Is it? I am afraid not. I have been listening to those disagreeable +things which are called truths by the people who say them. I have +listened to two lectures delivered by two very intelligent men for my +especial benefit. It seems to me that as soon as I make a good +resolution it becomes the duty of sensible people to demonstrate that I +am a fool." + +"You are not in a good humour. Tell me all about it." + +"And weary you with my grievances? No. Is Del Ferice coming this +afternoon?" + +"How can I tell? He does not come often." + +"I thought he came almost every day," said Orsino gloomily. + +He was disappointed, but Maria Consuelo did not understand what was the +matter. She leaned forward in her low seat, her chin resting upon one +hand, and her tawny eyes fixed on Orsino's. + +"Tell me, my friend--are you unhappy? Can I do anything? Will you tell +me?" + +It was not easy to resist the appeal. Though the two had grown intimate +of late, there had hitherto always been something cold and reserved +behind her outwardly friendly manner. To-day she seemed suddenly willing +to be different. Her easy, graceful attitude, her soft voice full of +promised sympathy, above all the look in her strange eyes revealed a +side of her character which Orsino had not suspected and which affected +him in a way he could not have described. + +Without hesitation he told her his story, from beginning to end, simply, +without comment and without any of the cutting phrases which came so +readily to his tongue on most occasions. She listened very thoughtfully +to the end. + +"Those things are not misfortunes," she said. "But they may be the +beginnings of unhappiness. To be unhappy is worse than any misfortune. +What right has your father to laugh at you? Because he never needed to +do anything for himself, he thinks it absurd that his son should dislike +the lazy life that is prepared for him. It is not reasonable--it is not +kind!" + +"Yet he means to be both, I suppose," said Orsino bitterly. + +"Oh, of course! People always mean to be the soul of logic and the +paragon of charity! Especially where their own children are concerned." + +Maria Consuelo added the last words with more feeling than seemed +justified by her sympathy for Orsino's woes. The moment was perhaps +favourable for asking a leading question about herself, and her answer +might have thrown light on her problematic past. But Orsino was too busy +with his own troubles to think of that, and the opportunity slipped by +and was lost. + +"You know now why I want to see Del Ferice," he said. "I cannot go to +his house. My only chance of talking to him lies here." + +"And that is what brings you? You are very flattering!" + +"Do not be unjust! We all look forward to meeting our friends in +heaven." + +"Very pretty. I forgive you. But I am afraid that you will not meet Del +Ferice. I do not think he has left the Chambers yet. There was to be a +debate this afternoon in which he had to speak." + +"Does he make speeches?" + +"Very good ones. I have heard him." + +"I have never been inside the Chambers," observed Orsino. + +"You are not very patriotic. You might go there and ask for Del Ferice. +You could see him without going to his house--without compromising your +dignity." + +"Why do you laugh?" + +"Because it all seems to me so absurd. You know that you are perfectly +free to go and see him when and where you will. There is nothing to +prevent you. He is the one man of all others whose advice you need. He +has an unexceptional position in the world--no doubt he has done strange +things, but so have dozens of people whom you know--his present +reputation is excellent, I say. And yet, because some twenty years ago, +when you were a child, he held one opinion and your father held another, +you are interdicted from crossing his threshold! If you can shake hands +with him here, you can take his hand in his own house. Is not that +true?" + +"Theoretically, I daresay, but not in practice. You see it yourself. You +have chosen one side from the first, and all the people on the other +side know it. As a foreigner, you are not bound to either, and you can +know everybody in time, if you please. Society is not so prejudiced as +to object to that. But because you begin with the Del Ferice in a very +uncompromising way, it would take a long time for you to know the +Montevarchi, for instance." + +"Who told you that I was a foreigner?" asked Maria Consuelo, rather +abruptly. + +"You yourself--" + +"That is good authority!" She laughed. "I do not remember--ah! because I +do not speak Italian? You mean that? One may forget one's own language, +or for that matter one may never have learned it." + +"Are you Italian, then, Madame?" asked Orsino, surprised that she should +lead the conversation so directly to a point which he had supposed must +be reached by a series of tactful approaches. + +"Who knows? I am sure I do not. My father was Italian. Does that +constitute nationality?" + +"Yes. But the woman takes the nationality of her husband, I believe," +said Orsino, anxious to hear more. + +"Ah yes--poor Aranjuez!" Maria Consuelo's voice suddenly took that +sleepy tone which Orsino had heard more than once. Her eyelids drooped a +little and she lazily opened and shut her hand, and spread out the +fingers and looked at them. + +But Orsino was not satisfied to let the conversation drop at this point, +and after a moment's pause he put a decisive question. + +"And was Monsieur d'Aranjuez also Italian?" he asked. + +"What does it matter?" she asked in the same indolent tone. "Yes, since +you ask me, he was Italian, poor man." + +Orsino was more and more puzzled. That the name did not exist in Italy +he was almost convinced. He thought of the story of the Signor Aragno, +who had fallen overboard in the south seas, and then he was suddenly +aware that he could not believe in anything of the sort. Maria Consuelo +did not betray a shade of emotion, either, at the mention of her +deceased husband. She seemed absorbed in the contemplation of her hands. +Orsino had not been rebuked for his curiosity and would have asked +another question if he had known how to frame it. An awkward silence +followed. Maria Consuelo raised her eyes slowly and looked thoughtfully +into Orsino's face. + +"I see," she said at last. "You are curious. I do not know whether you +have any right to be--have you?" + +"I wish I had!" exclaimed Orsino thoughtlessly. + +Again she looked at him in silence for some moments. + +"I have not known you long enough," she said. "And if I had known you +longer, perhaps it would not be different. Are other people curious, +too? Do they talk about me?" + +"The people I know do--but they do not know you. They see your name in +the papers, as a beautiful Spanish princess. Yet everybody is aware that +there is no Spanish nobleman of your name. Of course they are curious. +They invent stories about you, which I deny. If I knew more, it would be +easier." + +"Why do you take the trouble to deny such things?" + +She asked the question with a change of manner. Once more she leaned +forward and her face softened wonderfully as she looked at him. + +"Can you not guess?" he asked. + +He was conscious of a very unusual emotion, not at all in harmony with +the imaginary character he had chosen for himself, and which he +generally maintained with considerable success. Maria Consuelo was one +person when she leaned back in her chair, laughing or idly listening to +his talk, or repulsing the insignificant declarations of devotion which +were not even meant to be taken altogether in earnest. She was pretty +then, attractive, graceful, feminine, a little artificial, perhaps, and +Orsino felt that he was free to like her or not, as he pleased, but that +he pleased to like her for the present. She was quite another woman +to-day, as she bent forward, her tawny eyes growing darker and more +mysterious every moment, her auburn hair casting wonderful shadows upon +her broad pale forehead, her lips not closed as usual, but slightly +parted, her fragrant breath just stirring the quiet air Orsino breathed. +Her features might be irregular. It did not matter. She was beautiful +for the moment with a kind of beauty Orsino had never seen, and which +produced a sudden and overwhelming effect upon him. + +"Do you not know?" he asked again, and his voice trembled unexpectedly. + +"Thank you," she said softly and she touched his hand almost +caressingly. + +But when he would have taken it, she drew back instantly and was once +more the woman whom he saw every day, careless, indifferent, pretty. + +"Why do you change so quickly?" he asked in a low voice, bending towards +her. "Why do you snatch your hand away? Are you afraid of me?" + +"Why should I be afraid? Are you dangerous?" + +"You are. You may be fatal, for all I know." + +"How foolish!" she exclaimed, with a quick glance. + +"You are Madame d'Aranjuez, now," he answered. "We had better change the +subject." + +"What do you mean?" + +"A moment ago you were Consuelo," he said boldly. + +"Have I given you any right to say that?" + +"A little." + +"I am sorry. I will be more careful. I am sure I cannot imagine why you +should think of me at all, unless when you are talking to me, and then I +do not wish to be called by my Christian name. I assure you, you are +never anything in my thoughts but His Excellency Prince Orsino +Saracinesca--with as many titles after that as may belong to you." + +"I have none," said Orsino. + +Her speech irritated him strongly, and the illusion which had been so +powerful a few moments earlier all but disappeared. + +"Then you advise me to go and find Del Ferice at Monte Citorio," he +observed. + +"If you like." She laughed. "There is no mistaking your intention when +you mean to change the subject," she added. + +"You made it sufficiently clear that the other was disagreeable to you." + +"I did not mean to do so." + +"Then in heaven's name, what do you mean, Madame?" he asked, suddenly +losing his head in his extreme annoyance. + +Maria Consuelo raised her eyebrows in surprise. + +"Why are you so angry?" she asked. "Do you know that it is very rude to +speak like that?" + +"I cannot help it. What have I done to-day that you should torment me as +you do?" + +"I? I torment you? My dear friend, you are quite mad." + +"I know I am. You make me so." + +"Will you tell me how? What have I done? What have I said? You Romans +are certainly the most extraordinary people. It is impossible to please +you. If one laughs, you become tragic. If one is serious, you grow gay! +I wish I understood you better." + +"You will end by making it impossible for me to understand myself," said +Orsino. "You say that I am changeable. Then what are you?" + +"Very much the same to-day as yesterday," said Maria Consuelo calmly. +"And I do not suppose that I shall be very different to-morrow." + +"At least I will take my chance of finding that you are mistaken," said +Orsino, rising suddenly, and standing before her. + +"Are you going?" she asked, as though she were surprised. + +"Since I cannot please you." + +"Since you will not." + +"I do not know how." + +"Be yourself--the same that you always are. You are affecting to be some +one else, to-day." + +"I fancy it is the other way," answered Orsino, with more truth than he +really owned to himself. + +"Then I prefer the affectation to the reality." + +"As you will, Madame. Good evening." + +He crossed the room to go out. She called him back. + +"Don Orsino!" + +He turned sharply round. + +"Madame?" + +Seeing that he did not move, she rose and went to him. He looked down +into her face and saw that it was changed again. + +"Are you really angry?" she asked. There was something girlish in the +way she asked the question, and, for a moment, in her whole manner. + +Orsino could not help smiling. But he said nothing. + +"No, you are not," she continued. "I can see it. Do you know? I am very +glad. It was foolish of me to tease you. You will forgive me? This +once?" + +"If you will give me warning the next time." He found that he was +looking into her eyes. + +"What is the use of warning?" she asked. + +They were very close together, and there was a moment's silence. +Suddenly Orsino forgot everything and bent down, clasping her in his +arms and kissing her again and again. It was brutal, rough, senseless, +but he could not help it. + +Maria Consuelo uttered a short, sharp cry, more of surprise, perhaps, +than of horror. To Orsino's amazement and confusion her voice was +immediately answered by another, which was that of the dark and usually +silent maid, whom he had seen once or twice. The woman ran into the +room, terrified by the cry she had heard. + +"Madame felt faint in crossing the room, and was falling when I caught +her," said Orsino, with a coolness that did him credit. + +And, in fact, Maria Consuelo closed her eyes as he let her sink into the +nearest chair. The maid fell on her knees beside her mistress and began +chafing her hands. + +"The poor Signora!" she exclaimed. "She should never be left alone! She +has not been herself since the poor Signore died. You had better leave +us, sir--I will put her to bed when she revives. It often happens--pray +do not be anxious!" + +Orsino picked up his hat and left the room. + +"Oh--it often happens, does it?" he said to himself as he closed the +door softly behind him and walked down the corridor of the hotel. + +He was more amazed at his own boldness than he cared to own. He had not +supposed that scenes of this description produced themselves so very +unexpectedly, and, as it were, without any fixed intention on the part +of the chief actor. He remembered that he had been very angry with +Madame d'Aranjuez, that she had spoken half a dozen words, and that he +had felt an irresistible impulse to kiss her. He had done so, and he +thought with considerable trepidation of their next meeting. She had +screamed, which showed that she was outraged by his boldness. It was +doubtful whether she would receive him again. The best thing to be done, +he thought, was to write her a very humble letter of apology, explaining +his conduct as best he could. This did not accord very well with his +principles, but he had already transgressed them in being so excessively +hasty. Her eyes had certainly been provoking in the extreme, and it had +been impossible to resist the expression on her lips. But at all events, +he should have begun by kissing her hand, which she would certainly not +have withdrawn again--then he might have put his arm round her and drawn +her head to his shoulder. These were preliminaries in the matter of +kissing which it was undoubtedly right to observe, and he had culpably +neglected them. He had been abominably brutal, and he ought to +apologise. Nevertheless, he would not have forfeited the recollection of +that moment for all the other recollections of his life, and he knew it. +As he walked along the street he felt a wild exhilaration such as he had +never known before. He owned gladly to himself that he loved Maria +Consuelo, and resolutely thrust away the idea that his boyish vanity was +pleased by the snatching of a kiss. + +Whatever the real nature of his delight might be it was for the time so +sincere that he even forgot to light a cigarette in order to think over +the circumstances. + +Walking rapidly up the Corso he came to the Piazza Colonna, and the +glare of the electric light somehow recalled him to himself. + +"Great speech of the Honourable Del Ferice!" yelled a newsboy in his +ear. "Ministerial crisis! Horrible murder of a grocer!" + +Orsino mechanically turned to the right in the direction of the +Chambers. Del Ferice had probably gone home, since his speech was +already in print. But fate had ordained otherwise. Del Ferice had +corrected his proofs on the spot and had lingered to talk with his +friends before going home. Not that it mattered much, for Orsino could +have found him as well on the following day. His brougham was standing +in front of the great entrance and he himself was shaking hands with a +tall man under the light of the lamps. Orsino went up to him. + +"Could you spare me a quarter of an hour?" asked the young man in a +voice constrained by excitement. He felt that he was embarked at last +upon his great enterprise. + +Del Ferice looked up in some astonishment. He had reason to dread the +quarrelsome disposition of the Saracinesca as a family, and he wondered +what Orsino wanted. + +"Certainly, certainly, Don Orsino," he answered, with a particularly +bland smile. "Shall we drive, or at least sit in my carriage? I am a +little fatigued with my exertions to-day." + +The tall man bowed and strolled away, biting the end of an unlit cigar. + +"It is a matter of business," said Orsino, before entering the carriage. +"Can you help me to try my luck--in a very small way--in one of the +building enterprises you manage?" + +"Of course I can, and will," answered Del Ferice, more and more +astonished. "After you, my dear Don Orsino, after you," he repeated, +pushing the young man into the brougham. "Quiet streets--till I stop +you," he said to the footman, as he himself got in. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +Del Ferice was surprised beyond measure at Orsino's request, and was not +guilty of any profoundly nefarious intention when he so readily acceded +to it. His own character made him choose as a rule to refuse nothing +that was asked of him, though his promises were not always fulfilled +afterwards. To express his own willingness to help those who asked, was +of course not the same as asserting his power to give assistance when +the time should come. In the present case he did not even make up his +mind which of two courses he would ultimately pursue. Orsino came to him +with a small sum of ready money in his hand. Del Ferice had it in his +power to make him lose that sum, and a great deal more besides, thereby +causing the boy endless trouble with his family; or else the banker +could, if he pleased, help him to a very considerable success. His +really superior talent for diplomacy inclined him to choose the latter +plan, but he was far too cautious to make any hasty decision. + +The brougham rolled on through quiet and ill-lighted streets, and Del +Ferice leaned back in his corner, not listening at all to Orsino's talk, +though he occasionally uttered a polite though utterly unintelligible +syllable or two which might mean anything agreeable to his companion's +views. The situation was easy enough to understand, and he had grasped +it in a moment. What Orsino might say was of no importance whatever, but +the consequences of any action on Del Ferice's part might be serious and +lasting. + +Orsino stated his many reasons for wishing to engage in business, as he +had stated them more than once already during the day and during the +past weeks, and when he had finished he repeated his first question. + +"Can you help me to try my luck?" he asked. + +Del Ferice awoke from his reverie with characteristic readiness and +realised that he must say something. His voice had never been strong and +he leaned out of his corner of the carriage in order to speak near +Orsino's ear. + +"I am delighted with all you say," he began, "and I scarcely need repeat +that my services are altogether at your disposal. The only question is, +how are we to begin? The sum you mention is certainly not large, but +that does not matter. You would have little difficulty in raising as +many hundreds of thousands as you have thousands, if money were +necessary. But in business of this kind the only ready money needed is +for stamp duty and for the wages of workmen, and the banks advance what +is necessary for the latter purpose, in small sums on notes of hand +guaranteed by a general mortgage. When you have paid the stamp duties, +you may go to the club and lose the balance of your capital at baccarat +if you please. The loss in that direction will not affect your credit as +a contractor. All that is very simple. You wish to succeed, however, not +at cards, but at business. That is the difficulty." + +Del Ferice paused. + +"That is not very clear to me," observed Orsino. + +"No--no," answered Del Ferice thoughtfully. "No--I daresay it is not so +very clear. I wish I could make it clearer. Speculation means gambling +only when the speculator is a gambler. Of course there are successful +gamblers in the world, but there are not many of them. I read somewhere +the other day that business was the art of handling other +people's-money. The remark is not particularly true. Business is the art +of creating a value where none has yet existed. That is what you wish to +do. I do not think that a Saracinesca would take pleasure in turning +over money not belonging to him." + +"Certainly not!" exclaimed Orsino. "That is usury." + +"Not exactly, but it is banking; and banking, it is quite true, is usury +within legal bounds. There is no question of that here. The operation is +simple in the extreme. I sell you a piece of land on the understanding +that you will build upon it, and instead of payment you give me a +mortgage. I lend you money from month to month in small sums at a small +interest, to pay for material and labour. You are only responsible upon +one point. The money is to be used for the purpose stated. When the +building is finished you sell it. If you sell it for cash, you pay off +the mortgage, and receive the difference. If you sell it with the +mortgage, the buyer becomes the mortgager and only pays you the +difference, which remains yours, out and out. That is the whole process +from beginning to end." + +"How wonderfully simple!" + +"It is almost primitive in its simplicity," answered Del Ferice gravely. +"But in every case two difficulties present themselves, and I am bound +to tell you that they are serious ones." + +"What are they?" + +"You must know how to buy in the right part of the city and you must +have a competent assistant. The two conditions are indispensable." + +"What sort of an assistant?" asked Orsino. + +"A practical man. If possible, an architect, who will then have a share +of the profits instead of being paid for his work." + +"Is it very hard to find such a person?" + +"It is not easy." + +"Do you think you could help me?" + +"I do not know. I am assuming a great responsibility in doing so. You do +not seem to realise that, Don Orsino." + +Del Ferice laughed a little in his quiet way, but Orsino was silent. It +was the first time that the banker had reminded him of the vast +difference in their social and political positions. + +"I do not think it would be very wise of me to help you into such a +business as this," said Del Ferice cautiously. "I speak quite selfishly +and for my own sake. Success is never certain, and it would be a great +injury to me if you failed." + +He was beginning to make up his mind. + +"Why?" asked Orsino. His own instincts of generosity were aroused. He +would certainly not do Del Ferice an injury if he could help it, nor +allow him to incur the risk of one. + +"If you fail," answered the other, "all Rome will say that I have +intentionally brought about your failure. You know how people talk. +Thousands will become millions and I shall be accused of having plotted +the destruction of your family, because your father once wounded me in a +duel, nearly five and twenty years ago." + +"How absurd!" + +"No, no. It is not absurd. I am afraid I have the reputation of being +vindictive. Well, well--it is in bad taste to talk of oneself. I am good +at hating, perhaps, but I have always felt that I preferred peace to +war, and now I am growing old. I am not what I once was, Don Orsino, and +I do not like quarrelling. But I would not allow people to say +impertinent things about me, and if you failed and lost money, I should +be abused by your friends, and perhaps censured by my own. Do you see? +Yes, I am selfish. I admit it. You must forgive that weakness in me. I +like peace." + +"It is very natural," said Orsino, "and I have no right to put you in +danger of the slightest inconvenience. But, after all, why need I appear +before the public?" + +Del Ferice smiled in the dark. + +"True," he answered. "You could establish an anonymous firm, so to say, +and the documents would be a secret between you and me and the notary. +Of course there are many ways of managing such an affair quietly." + +He did not add that the secret could only be kept so long as Orsino was +successful. It seemed a pity to damp so much good enthusiasm. + +"We will do that, then, if you will show me how. My ambition is not to +see my name on a door-plate, but to be really occupied." + +"I understand, I understand," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. "I must ask +you to give me until to-morrow to consider the matter. It needs a little +thought." + +"Where can I find you, to hear your decision?" + +Del Ferice was silent for a moment. + +"I think I once met you late in the afternoon at Madame d'Aranjuez's. We +might manage to meet there to-morrow and come away together. Shall we +name an hour? Would it suit you?" + +"Perfectly," answered Orsino with alacrity. + +The idea of meeting Maria Consuelo alone was very disturbing in his +present state of mind. He felt that he had lost his balance in his +relations with her, and that in order to regain it he must see her in +the presence of a third person, if only for a quarter of an hour. It +would be easier, then, to resume the former intercourse and to say +whatever he should determine upon saying. If she were offended, she +would at least not show it in any marked way before Del Ferice. Orsino's +existence, he thought, was becoming complicated for the first time, and +though he enjoyed the vague sensation of impending difficulty, he wanted +as many opportunities as possible of reviewing the situation and of +meditating upon each new move. + +He got out of Del Ferice's carriage at no great distance from his own +home, and after a few words of very sincere thanks walked slowly away. +He found it very hard to arrange his thoughts in any consecutive order, +though he tried several methods of self-analysis, and repeated to +himself that he had experienced a great happiness and was probably on +the threshold of a great success. These two reflections did not help him +much. The happiness had been of the explosive kind, and the success in +the business matter was more than problematic, as well as certainly +distant in the future. + +He was very restless and craved the immediate excitement of further +emotions, so that he would certainly have gone to the club that night, +had not the fear of losing his small and precious capital deterred him. +He thought of all that was coming and he determined to be careful, even +sordid if necessary, rather than lose his chance of making the great +attempt. Besides, he would cut a poor figure on the morrow if he were +obliged to admit to Del Ferice that he had lost his fifteen thousand +francs and was momentarily penniless. He accordingly shut himself up in +his own room at an early hour, and smoked in solitude until he was +sleepy, reviewing the various events of the day, or trying to do so, +though his mind reverted constantly to the one chief event of all, to +the unaccountable outburst of passion by which he had perhaps offended +Maria Consuelo beyond forgiveness. With all his affectation of +cynicism he had not learned that sin is easy only because it meets with +such very general encouragement. Even if he had been aware of that +undeniable fact, the knowledge might not have helped him very +materially. + +The hours passed very slowly during the next day, and even when the +appointed time had come, Orsino allowed another quarter of an hour to go +by before he entered the hotel and ascended to the little sitting-room +in which Maria Consuelo received. He meant to be sure that Del Ferice +was there before entering, but he was too proud to watch for the +latter's coming, or to inquire of the porter whether Maria Consuelo were +alone or not. It seemed simpler in every way to appear a little late. + +But Del Ferice was a busy man and not always punctual, so that to +Orsino's considerable confusion, he found Maria Consuelo alone, in spite +of his precaution. He was so much surprised as to become awkward, for +the first time in his life, and he felt the blood rising in his face, +dark as he was. + +"Will you forgive me?" he asked, almost timidly, as he held out his +hand. + +Maria Consuelo's tawny eyes looked curiously at him. Then she smiled +suddenly. + +"My dear child," she said, "you should not do such things! It is very +foolish, you know." + +The answer was so unexpected and so exceedingly humiliating, as Orsino +thought at first, that he grew pale and drew back a little. But Maria +Consuelo took no notice of his behaviour, and settled herself in her +accustomed chair. + +"Did you find Del Ferice last night?" she asked, changing the subject +without the least hesitation. + +"Yes," answered Orsino. + +Almost before the word was spoken there was a knock at the door and Del +Ferice appeared. Orsino's face cleared, as though something pleasant had +happened, and Maria Consuelo observed the fact. She concluded, naturally +enough, that the two men had agreed to meet in her sitting-room, and +she resented the punctuality which she supposed they had displayed in +coming almost together, especially after what had happened on the +preceding day. She noted the cordiality with which they greeted each +other and she felt sure that she was right. On the other hand she could +not afford to show the least coldness to Del Ferice, lest he should +suppose that she was annoyed at being disturbed in her conversation with +Orsino. The situation was irritating to her, but she made the best of it +and began to talk to Del Ferice about the speech he had made on the +previous evening. He had spoken well, and she found it easy to be just +and flattering at the same time. + +"It must be an immense satisfaction to speak as you do," said Orsino, +wishing to say something at least agreeable. + +Del Ferice acknowledged the compliment by a deprecatory gesture. + +"To speak as some of my colleagues can--yes--it must be a great +satisfaction. But Madame d'Aranjuez exaggerates. And, besides, I only +make speeches when I am called upon to do so. Speeches are wasted in +nine cases out of ten, too. They are, if I may say so, the music at the +political ball. Sometimes the guests will dance, and sometimes they will +not, but the musicians must try and suit the taste of the great invited. +The dancing itself is the thing." + +"Deeds not words," suggested Maria Consuelo, glancing at Orsino, who +chanced to be looking at her. + +"That is a good motto enough," he said gloomily. + +"Deeds may need explanation, _post facto_," remarked Del Ferice, +unconsciously making such a direct allusion to recent events that Orsino +looked sharply at him, and Maria Consuelo smiled. + +"That is true," she said. + +"And when you need any one to help you, it is necessary to explain your +purpose beforehand," observed Del Ferice. "That is what happens so often +in politics, and in other affairs of life as well. If a man takes money +from me without my consent, he steals, but if I agree to his taking it, +the transaction becomes a gift or a loan. A despotic government steals, +a constitutional one borrows or receives free offerings. The fact that +the despot pays interest on a part of what he steals raises him to the +position of the magnanimous brigand who leaves his victims just enough +money to carry them to the nearest town. Possibly it is after all a +quibble of definitions, and the difference may not be so great as it +seems at first sight. But then, all morality is but the shadow cast on +one side or the other of a definition." + +"Surely that is not your political creed!" said Maria Consuelo. + +"Certainly not, Madame, certainly not," answered Del Ferice in gentle +protest. "It is not a creed at all, but only a very poor explanation of +the way in which most experienced people look upon the events of their +day. The idea in which we believe is very different from the results it +has brought about, and very much higher, and very much better. But the +results are not all bad either. Unfortunately the bad ones are on the +surface, and the good ones, which are enduring, must be sought in places +where the honest sunshine has not yet dispelled the early shadows." + +Maria Consuelo smiled faintly, and the slight cast in her eyes was more +than usually apparent, as though her attention were wandering. Orsino +said nothing, and wondered why Del Ferice continued to talk. The latter, +indeed, was allowing himself to run on because neither of his hearers +seemed inclined to make a remark which might serve to turn the +conversation, and he began to suspect that something had occurred before +his coming which had disturbed their equanimity. + +He presently began to talk of people instead of ideas, for he had no +intention of being thought a bore by Madame d'Aranjuez, and the man who +is foolish enough to talk of anything but his neighbours, when he has +more than one hearer, is in danger of being numbered with the +tormentors. + +Half an hour passed quickly enough after the common chord had been +struck, and Del Ferice and Orsino exchanged glances of intelligence, +meaning to go away together as had been agreed. Del Ferice rose first, +and Orsino took up his hat. To his surprise and consternation Maria +Consuelo made a quick and imperative sign to him to remain. Del Ferice's +dull blue eyes saw most things that happened within the range of their +vision, and neither the gesture nor the look that accompanied it escaped +him. + +Orsino's position was extremely awkward. He had put Del Ferice to some +inconvenience on the understanding that they were to go away together +and did not wish to offend him by not keeping his engagement. On the +other hand it was next to impossible to disobey Maria Consuelo, and to +explain his difficulty to Del Ferice was wholly out of the question. He +almost wished that the latter might have seen and understood the signal. +But Del Ferice made no sign and took Maria Consuelo's offered hand, in +the act of leavetaking. Orsino grew desperate and stood beside the two, +holding his hat. Del Ferice turned to shake hands with him also. + +"But perhaps you are going too," he said, with a distinct interrogation. + +Orsino glanced at Maria Consuelo as though imploring her permission to +take his leave, but her face was impenetrable, calm and indifferent. + +Del Ferice understood perfectly what was taking place, but he found a +moment while Orsino hesitated. If the latter had known how completely he +was in Del Ferice's power throughout the little scene, he would have +then and there thrown over his financial schemes in favour of Maria +Consuelo. But Del Ferice's quiet, friendly manner did not suggest +despotism, and he did not suffer Orsino's embarrassment to last more +than five seconds. + +"I have a little proposition to make," said the fat count, turning +again to Maria Consuelo. "My wife and I are alone this evening. Will you +not come and dine with us, Madame? And you, Don Orsino, will you not +come too? We shall just make a party of four, if you will both come." + +"I shall be enchanted!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo without hesitation. + +"I shall be delighted!" answered Orsino with an alacrity which surprised +himself. + +"At eight then," said Del Ferice, shaking hands with him again, and in a +moment he was gone. + +Orsino was too much confused, and too much delighted at having escaped +so easily from his difficulty to realise the importance of the step he +was taking in going to Del Fence's house, or to ask himself why the +latter had so opportunely extended the invitation. He sat down in his +place with a sigh of relief. + +"You have compromised yourself for ever," said Maria Consuelo with a +scornful laugh. "You, the blackest of the Black, are to be numbered +henceforth with the acquaintances of Count Del Ferice and Donna Tullia." + +"What difference does it make? Besides, I could not have done +otherwise." + +"You might have refused the dinner." + +"I could not possibly have done that. To accept was the only way out of +a great difficulty." + +"What difficulty?" asked Maria Consuelo relentlessly. + +Orsino was silent, wondering how he could explain, as explain he must, +without offending her. + +"You should not do such things," she said suddenly. "I will not always +forgive you." + +A gleam of light which, indeed, promised little forgiveness, flashed in +her eyes. + +"What things?" asked Orsino. + +"Do not pretend that you think me so simple," she said, in a tone of +irritation. "You and Del Ferice come here almost at the same moment. +When he goes, you show the utmost anxiety to go too. Of course you have +agreed to meet here. It is evident. You might have chosen the steps of +the hotel for your place of meeting instead of my sitting-room." + +The colour rose slowly in her cheeks. She was handsome when she was +angry. + +"If I had imagined that you could be displeased--" + +"Is it so surprising? Have you forgotten what happened yesterday? You +should be on your knees, asking my forgiveness for that--and instead, +you make a convenience of your visit to-day in order to meet a man of +business. You have very strange ideas of what is due to a woman." + +"Del Fence suggested it," said Orsino, "and I accepted the suggestion." + +"What is Del Ferice to me, that I should be made the victim of his +suggestions, as you call them? Besides, he does not know anything of +your folly of yesterday, and he has no right to suspect it." + +"I cannot tell you how sorry I am." + +"And yet you ought to tell me, if you expect that I will forget all +this. You cannot? Then be so good as to do the only other sensible thing +in your power, and leave me as soon as possible." + +"Forgive me, this once!" Orsino entreated in great distress, but not +finding any words to express his sense of humiliation. + +"You are not eloquent," she said scornfully. "You had better go. Do not +come to the dinner this evening, either. I would rather not see you. You +can easily make an excuse." + +Orsino recovered himself suddenly. + +"I will not go away now, and I will not give up the dinner to-night," he +said quietly. + +"I cannot make you do either--but I can leave you," said Maria Consuelo, +with a movement as though she were about to rise from her chair. + +"You will not do that," Orsino answered. + +She raised her eyebrows in real or affected surprise at his persistence. + +"You seem very sure of yourself," she said. "Do not be so sure of me." + +"I am sure that I love you. Nothing else matters." He leaned forward and +took her hand, so quickly that she had not time to prevent him. She +tried to draw it away, but he held it fast. + +"Let me go!" she cried. "I will call, if you do not!" + +"Call all Rome if you will, to see me ask your forgiveness. Consuelo--do +not be so hard and cruel--if you only knew how I love you, you would be +sorry for me, you would see how I hate myself, how I despise myself for +all this--" + +"You might show a little more feeling," she said, making a final effort +to disengage her hand, and then relinquishing the struggle. + +Orsino wondered whether he were really in love with her or not. Somehow, +the words he sought did not rise to his lips, and he was conscious that +his speech was not of the same temperature, so to say, as his actions. +There was something in Maria Consuelo's manner which disturbed him +disagreeably, like a cold draught blowing unexpectedly through a warm +room. Still he held her hand and endeavoured to rise to the occasion. + +"Consuelo!" he cried in a beseeching tone. "Do not send me away--see how +I am suffering--it is so easy for you to say that you forgive!" + +She looked at him a moment, and her eyelids drooped suddenly. + +"Will you let me go, if I forgive you?" she asked in a low voice. + +"Yes." + +"I forgive you then. Well? Do you still hold my hand?" + +"Yes." + +He leaned forward and tried to draw her toward him, looking into her +eyes. She yielded a little, and their faces came a little nearer to +each other, and still a little nearer. All at once a deep blush rose in +her cheeks, she turned her head away and drew back quickly. + +"Not for all the world!" she exclaimed, in a tone that was new to +Orsino's ear. + +He tried to take her hand again, but she would not give it. + +"No, no! Go--you are not to be trusted!" she cried, avoiding him. + +"Why are you so unkind?" he asked, almost passionately. + +"I have been kind enough for this day," she answered. "Pray go--do not +stay any longer--I may regret it." + +"My staying?" + +"No--my kindness. And do not come again for the present. I would rather +see you at Del Ferice's than here." + +Orsino was quite unable to understand her behaviour, and an older and +more experienced man might have been almost as much puzzled as he. A +long silence followed, during which he sat quite still and she looked +steadily at the cover of a book which lay on the table. + +"Please go," she said at last, in a voice which was not unkind. + +Orsino rose from his seat and prepared to obey her, reluctantly enough +and feeling that he was out of tune with himself and with everything. + +"Will you not even tell me why you send me away?" he asked. + +"Because I wish to be alone," she answered. "Good-bye." + +She did not look up as he left the room, and when he was gone she did +not move from her place, but sat as she had sat before, staring at the +yellow cover of the novel on the table. + +Orsino went home in a very unsettled frame of mind, and was surprised to +find that the lighted streets looked less bright and cheerful than on +the previous evening, and his own immediate prospects far less +pleasing. He was angry with himself for having been so foolish as to +make his visit to Maria Consuelo a mere appointment with Del Ferice, and +he was surprised beyond measure to find himself suddenly engaged in a +social acquaintance with the latter, when he had only meant to enter +into relations of business with him. Yet it did not occur to him that +Del Ferice had in any way entrapped him into accepting the invitation. +Del Ferice had saved him from a very awkward situation. Why? Because Del +Ferice had seen the gesture Maria Consuelo had made, and had understood +it, and wished to give Orsino another opportunity of discussing his +project. But if Del Ferice had seen the quick sign, he had probably +interpreted it in a way compromising to Madame d'Aranjuez. This was +serious, though it was assuredly not Orsino's fault if she compromised +herself. She might have let him go without question, and since an +explanation of some sort was necessary she might have waited until the +next day to demand it of him. He resented what she had done, and yet +within the last quarter of an hour, he had been making a declaration of +love to her. He was further conscious that the said declaration had been +wholly lacking in spirit, in passion and even in eloquence. He probably +did not love her after all, and with an attempt at his favourite +indifference he tried to laugh at himself. + +But the effort was not successful, and he felt something approaching to +pain as he realised that there was nothing to laugh at. He remembered +her eyes and her face and the tones of her voice, and he imagined that +if he could turn back now and see her again, he could say in one breath +such things as would move a statue to kisses. The very phrases rose to +his lips and he repeated them to himself as he walked along. + +Most unaccountable of all had been Maria Consuelo's own behaviour. Her +chief preoccupation seemed to have been to get rid of him as soon as +possible. She had been very seriously offended with him to-day, much +more deeply, indeed, than yesterday, though, the cause appeared to his +inexperience to be a far less adequate one. It was evident, he thought, +that she had not really pardoned his want of tact, but had yielded to +the necessity of giving a reluctant forgiveness, merely because she did +not wish to break off her acquaintance with him. On the other hand, she +had allowed him to say again and again that he loved her, and she had +not forbidden him to call her by her name. + +He had always heard that it was hard to understand women, and he began +to believe it. There was one hypothesis which he had not considered. It +was faintly possible that she loved him already, though he was slow to +believe that, his vanity lying in another direction. But even if she +did, matters were not clearer. The supposition could not account for her +sending him away so abruptly and with such evident intention. If she +loved him, she would naturally, he supposed, wish him to stay as long as +possible. She had only wished to keep him long enough to tell him how +angry she was. He resented that again, for he was in the humour to +resent most things. + +It was all extremely complicated, and Orsino began to think that he +might find the complication less interesting than he had expected a few +hours earlier. He had little time for reflection either, since he was to +meet both Maria Consuelo and Del Ferice at dinner. He felt as though the +coming evening were in a measure to decide his future existence, and it +was indeed destined to exercise a great influence upon his life, as any +person not disturbed by the anxieties which beset him might easily have +foreseen. + +Before leaving the house he made an excuse to his mother, saying that he +had unexpectedly been asked to dine with friends, and at the appointed +hour he rang at Del Ferice's door. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Orsino looked about him with some curiosity as he entered Del Fence's +abode. He had never expected to find himself the guest of Donna Tullia +and her husband and when he took the robust countess's hand he was +inclined to wish that the whole affair might turn out to be a dream. In +vain he repeated to himself that he was no longer a boy, but a grown +man, of age in the eyes of the law to be responsible for his own +actions, and old enough in fact to take what steps he pleased for the +accomplishment of his own ends. He found no solace in the reflection, +and he could not rid himself of the idea that he had got himself into a +very boyish scrape. It would indeed have been very easy to refuse Del +Ferice's invitation and to write him a note within the hour explaining +vaguely that circumstances beyond his control obliged him to ask another +interview for the discussion of business matters. But it was too late +now. He was exchanging indifferent remarks with Donna Tullia, while Del +Ferice looked on benignantly, and all three waited for Madame +d'Aranjuez. + +Five minutes had not elapsed before she came, and her appearance +momentarily dispelled Orsino's annoyance at his own rashness. He had +never before seen her dressed for the evening, and he had not realised +how much to her advantage the change from the ordinary costume, or the +inevitable "tea-garment," to a dinner gown would be. She was assuredly +not over-dressed, for she wore black without colours and her only +ornament was a single string of beautiful pearls which Donna Tullia +believed to be false, but which Orsino accepted as real. Possibly he +knew even more about pearls than the countess, for his mother had many +and wore them often, whereas Donna Tullia preferred diamonds and rubies. +But his eyes did not linger on the necklace, for Maria Consuelo's whole +presence affected him strangely. There was something light-giving and +even dazzling about her which he had not expected, and he understood for +the first time that the language of the newspaper paragraphs was not so +grossly flattering as he had supposed. In spite of the great artistic +defects of feature, which could not long escape an observer of ordinary +taste, it was clear that Maria Consuelo must always be a striking and +central figure in any social assembly, great or small. There had been +moments in Orsino's acquaintance with her, when he had thought her +really beautiful; as she now appeared, one of those moments seemed to +have become permanent. He thought of what he had dared on the preceding +day, his vanity was pleased and his equanimity restored. With a sense of +pride which was very far from being delicate and was by no means well +founded, he watched her as she walked in to dinner before him, leaning +on Del Ferice's arm. + +"Beautiful--eh? I see you think so," whispered Donna Tullia in his ear. + +The countess treated him at once as an old acquaintance, which put him +at his ease, while it annoyed his conscience. + +"Very beautiful," he answered, with a grave nod. + +"And so mysterious," whispered the countess again, just as they reached +the door of the dining-room. "She is very fascinating--take care!" + +She tapped his arm familiarly with her fan and laughed, as he left her +at her seat. + +"What are you two laughing at?" asked Del Ferice, smiling pleasantly as +he surveyed the six oysters he found upon his plate, and considered +which should be left until the last as the crowning tit-bit. He was fond +of good eating, and especially fond of oysters as an introduction to the +feast. + +"What we were laughing at? How indiscreet you are, Ugo! You always want +to find out all my little secrets. Consuelo, my dear, do you like +oysters, or do you not? That is the question. You do, I know--a little +lemon and a very little red pepper--I love red, even to adoring +cayenne!" + +Orsino glanced at Madame d'Aranjuez, for he was surprised to hear Donna +Tullia call her by her first name. He had not known that the two women +had reached the first halting place of intimacy. + +Maria Consuelo smiled rather vaguely as she took the advice in the shape +of lemon juice and pepper. Del Ferice could not interrupt his enjoyment +of the oysters by words, and Orsino waited for an opportunity of saying +something witty. + +"I have lately formed the highest opinion of the ancient Romans," said +Donna Tullia, addressing him. "Do you know why?" + +Orsino professed his ignorance. + +"Ugo tells me that in a recent excavation twenty cartloads of oyster +shells were discovered behind one house. Think of that! Twenty cartloads +to a single house! What a family must have lived there--indeed the +Romans were a great people!" + +Orsino thought that Donna Tullia herself might pass for a heroine in +future ages, provided that the shells of her victims were deposited +together in a safe place. He laughed politely and hoped that the +conversation might not turn upon archaeology, which was not his strong +point. + +"I wonder how long it will be before modern Rome is excavated and the +foreigner of the future pays a franc to visit the ruins of the modern +house of parliament," suggested Maria Consuelo, who had said nothing as +yet. + +"At the present rate of progress, I should think about two years would +be enough," answered Donna Tullia. "But Ugo says we are a great nation. +Ask him." + +"Ah, my angel, you do not understand those things," said Del Ferice. +"How shall I explain? There is no development without decay of the +useless parts. The snake casts its old skin before it appears with a new +one. And there can be no business without an occasional crisis. +Unbroken fair weather ends in a dead calm. Why do you take such a gloomy +view, Madame?" + +"One should never talk of things--only people are amusing," said Donna +Tullia, before Madame d'Aranjuez could answer. "Whom have you seen +to-day, Consuelo? And you, Don Orsino? And you, Ugo? Are we to talk for +ever of oysters, and business and snakes? Come, tell me, all of you, +what everybody has told you. There must be something new. Of course that +poor Carantoni is going to be married again, and the Princess Befana is +dying, as usual, and the same dear old people have run away with each +other, and all that. Of course. I wish things were not always just going +to happen. One would like to hear what is said on the day after the +events which never come off. It would be a novelty." + +Donna Tullia loved talk and noise, and gossip above all things, and she +was not quite at her ease. The news that Orsino was to come to dinner +had taken her breath away. Ugo had advised her to be natural, and she +was doing her best to follow his advice. + +"As for me," he said, "I have been tormented all day, and have spent but +one pleasant half hour. I was so fortunate as to find Madame d'Aranjuez +at home, but that was enough to indemnify me for many sacrifices." + +"I cannot do better than say the same," observed Orsino, though with far +less truth. "I believe I have read through a new novel, but I do not +remember the title and I have forgotten the story." + +"How satisfactory!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo, with a little scorn. + +"It is the only way to read novels," answered Orsino, "for it leaves +them always new to you, and the same one may be made to last several +weeks." + +"I have heard it said that one should fear the man of one book," +observed Maria Consuelo, looking at him. + +"For my part, I am more inclined to fear the woman of many." + +"Do you read much, my dear Consuelo?" asked Donna Tullia, laughing. + +"Perpetually." + +"And is Don Orsino afraid of you?" + +"Mortally," answered Orsino. "Madame d'Aranjuez knows everything." + +"Is she blue, then?" asked Donna Tullia. + +"What shall I say, Madame?" inquired Orsino, turning to Maria Consuelo. +"Is it a compliment to compare you to the sky of Italy?" + +"For blueness?" + +"No--for brightness and serenity." + +"Thanks. That is pretty. I accept." + +"And have you nothing for me?" asked Donna Tullia, with an engaging +smile. + +The other two looked at Orsino, wondering what he would say in answer to +such a point-blank demand for flattery. + +"Juno is still Minerva's ally," he said, falling back upon mythology, +though it struck him that Del Ferice would make a poor Jupiter, with his +fat white face and dull eyes. + +"Very good!" laughed Donna Tullia. "A little classic, but I pressed you +hard. You are not easily caught. Talking of clever men," she added with +another meaning glance at Orsino, "I met your friend to-day, Consuelo." + +"My friend? Who is he?" + +"Spicca, of course. Whom did you think I meant? We always laugh at her," +she said, turning to Orsino, "because she hates him so. She does not +know him, and has never spoken to him. It is his cadaverous face that +frightens her. One can understand that--we of old Rome, have been used +to him since the deluge. But a stranger is horrified at the first sight +of him. Consuelo positively dreads to meet him in the street. She says +that he makes her dream of all sorts of horrors." + +"It is quite true," said Maria Consuelo, with a slight movement of her +beautiful shoulders. "There are people one would rather not see, merely +because they are not good to look at. He is one of them and if I see him +coming I turn away." + +"I know, I told him so to-day," continued Donna Tullia cheerfully. "We +are old friends, but we do not often meet nowadays. Just fancy! It was +in that little antiquary's shop in the Monte Brianzo--the first on the +left as you go, he has good things--and I saw a bit of embroidery in the +window that took my fancy, so I stopped the carriage and went in. Who +should be there but Spicca, hat and all, looking like old Father Time. +He was bargaining for something--a wretched old bit of +brass--bargaining, my dear! For a few sous! One may be poor, but one has +no right to be mean--I thought he would have got the miserable +antiquary's skin." + +"Antiquaries can generally take care of themselves," observed Orsino +incredulously. + +"Oh, I daresay--but it looks so badly, you know. That is all I mean. +When he saw me he stopped wrangling and we talked a little, while I had +the embroidery wrapped up. I will show it to you after dinner. It is +sixteenth century, Ugo says--a piece of a chasuble--exquisite flowers on +claret-coloured satin, a perfect gem, so rare now that everything is +imitated. However, that is not the point. It was Spicca. I was +forgetting my story. He said the usual things, you know--that he had +heard that I was very gay this year, but that it seemed to agree with +me, and so on. And I asked him why he never came to see me, and as an +inducement I told him of our great beauty here--that is you, Consuelo, +so please look delighted instead of frowning--and I told him that she +ought to hear him talk, because his face had frightened her so that she +ran away when she saw him coming towards her in the street. You see, if +one flatters his cleverness he does not mind being called ugly--or at +least I thought not, until to-day. But to my consternation he seemed +angry, and he asked me almost savagely if it were true that the +Countess d'Aranjuez--that is what he called you, my dear--really tried +to avoid him in the street. Then I laughed and said I was only joking, +and he began to bargain again for the little brass frame and I went +away. When I last heard his voice he was insisting upon seventy-five +centimes, and the antiquary was jeering at him and asking a franc and a +half. I wonder which got the better of the fight in the end. I will ask +him the next time I see him." + +Del Ferice supported his wife with a laugh at her story, but it was not +very genuine. He had unpleasant recollections of Spicca in earlier days, +and his name recalled events which Ugo would willingly have forgotten. +Orsino smiled politely, but resented the way in which Donna Tullia spoke +of his father's old friend. As for Maria Consuelo, she was a little +pale, and looked tired. But the countess was irrepressible, for she +feared lest Orsino should go away and think her dull. + +"Of course we all really like Spicca," she said. "Every one does." + +"I do, for my part," said Orsino gravely. "I have a great respect for +him, for his own sake, and he is one of my father's oldest friends." + +Maria Consuelo looked at him very suddenly, as though she were surprised +by what he said. She did not remember to have heard him mention the +melancholy old duellist. She seemed about to say something, but changed +her mind. + +"Yes," said Ugo, turning the subject, "he is one of the old tribe that +is dying out. What types there were in those days, and how those who are +alive have changed! Do you remember, Tullia? But of course you cannot, +my angel, it was far before your time." + +One of Ugo's favourite methods of pleasing his wife was to assert that +she was too young to remember people who had indeed played a part as +lately as after the death of her first husband. It always soothed her. + +"I remember them all," he continued. "Old Montevarchi, and Frangipani, +and poor Casalverde--and a score of others." + +He had been on the point of mentioning old Astrardente, too, but checked +himself. + +"Then there were the young ones, who are in middle age now," he went on, +"such as Valdarno and the Montevarchi whom you know, as different from +their former selves as you can well imagine. Society was different too." + +Del Ferice spoke thoughtfully and slowly, as though wishing that some +one would interrupt him or take up the subject, for he felt that his +wife's long story about Spicca and the antiquary had not been a success, +and his instinct told him that Spicca had better not be mentioned again, +since he was a friend of Orsino's and since his name seemed to exert a +depressing influence on Maria Consuelo. Orsino came to the rescue and +began to talk of current social topics in a way which showed that he was +not so profoundly prejudiced by traditional ideas as Del Ferice had +expected. The momentary chill wore off quickly enough, and when the +dinner ended Donna Tullia was sure that it had been a success. They all +returned to the drawing-room and then Del Ferice, without any remark, +led Orsino away to smoke with him in a distant apartment. + +"We can smoke again, when we go back," he said. "My wife does not mind +and Madame d'Aranjuez likes it. But it is an excuse to be alone together +for a little while, and besides, my doctor makes me lie down for a +quarter of an hour after dinner. You will excuse me?" + +Del Ferice extended himself upon a leathern lounge, and Orsino sat down +in a deep easy-chair. + +"I was so sorry not to be able to come away with you to-day," said +Orsino. "The truth is, Madame d'Aranjuez wanted some information and I +was just going to explain that I would stay a little longer, when you +asked us both to dinner. You must have thought me very forgetful." + +"Not at all, not at all," answered Del Ferice. "Indeed, I quite supposed +that you were coming with me, when it struck me that this would be a +much more pleasant place for talking. I cannot imagine why I had not +thought of it before--but I have so many details to think of." + +Not much could be said for the veracity of either of the statements +which the two men were pleased to make to each other, but Orsino had the +small advantage of being nearer to the letter, if not to the spirit of +the truth. Each, however, was satisfied with the other's tact. + +"And so, Don Orsino," continued Del Ferice after a short pause, "you +wish to try a little operation in business. Yes. Very good. You have, as +we said yesterday, a sum of money ample for a beginning. You have the +necessary courage and intelligence. You need a practical assistant, +however, and it is indispensable that the point selected for the first +venture should be one promising speedy profit. Is that it?" + +"Precisely." + +"Very good, very good. I think I can offer you both the land and the +partner, and almost guarantee your success, if you will be guided by +me." + +"I have come to you for advice," said Orsino. "I will follow it +gratefully. As for the success of the undertaking, I will assume the +responsibility." + +"Yes. That is better. After all, everything is uncertain in such +matters, and you would not like to feel that you were under an +obligation to me. On the other hand, as I told you, I am selfish and +cautious. I would rather not appear in the transaction." + +If any doubt as to Del Ferice's honesty of purpose crossed Orsino's mind +at that moment, it was fully compensated by the fact that he himself +distinctly preferred not to be openly associated with the banker. + +"I quite agree with you," he said. + +"Very well. Now for business. Do you know that it is sometimes more +profitable to take over a half-finished building, than to begin a new +one? Often, I assure you, for the returns are quicker and you get a +great deal at half price. Now, the man whom I recommend to you is a +practical architect, and was employed by a certain baker to build a +tenement building in one of the new quarters. The baker dies, the house +is unfinished, the heirs wish to sell it as it is--there are at least a +dozen of them--and meanwhile the work is stopped. My advice is this. Buy +this house, go into partnership with the unemployed architect, agreeing +to give him a share of the profits, finish the building and sell it as +soon as it is habitable. In six months you will get a handsome return." + +"That sounds very tempting," answered Orsino, "but it would need more +capital than I have." + +"Not at all, not at all. It is a mere question of taking over a mortgage +and paying stamp duty." + +"And how about the difference in ready money, which ought to go to the +present owners?" + +"I see that you are already beginning to understand the principles of +business," said Del Ferice, with an encouraging smile. "But in this case +the owners are glad to get rid of the house on any terms by which they +lose nothing, for they are in mortal fear of being ruined by it, as they +probably will be if they hold on to it." + +"Then why should I not lose, if I take it?" + +"That is just the difference. The heirs are a number of incapable +persons of the lower class, who do not understand these matters. If they +attempted to go on they would soon find themselves entangled in the +greatest difficulties. They would sink where you will almost certainly +swim." + +Orsino was silent for a moment. There was something despicable, to his +thinking, in profiting by the loss of a wretched baker's heirs. + +"It seems to me," he said presently, "that if I succeed in this, I ought +to give a share of the profits to the present owners." + +Not a muscle of Del Ferice's face moved, but his dull eyes looked +curiously at Orsino's young face. + +"That sort of thing is not commonly done in business," he said quietly, +after a short pause. "As a rule, men who busy themselves with affairs do +so in the hope of growing rich, but I can quite understand that where +business is a mere pastime, as it is to be in your case, a man of +generous instincts may devote the proceeds to charity." + +"It looks more like justice than charity to me," observed Orsino. + +"Call it what you will, but succeed first and consider the uses of your +success afterwards. That is not my affair. The baker's heirs are not +especially deserving people, I believe. In fact they are said to have +hastened his death in the hope of inheriting his wealth and are +disappointed to find that they have got nothing. If you wish to be +philanthropic you might wait until you have cleared a large sum and then +give it to a school or a hospital." + +"That is true," said Orsino. "In the meantime it is important to begin." + +"We can begin to-morrow, if you please. You will find me at the bank at +mid-day. I will send for the architect and the notary and we can manage +everything in forty-eight hours. Before the week is out you can be at +work." + +"So soon as that?" + +"Certainly. Sooner, by hurrying matters a little." + +"As soon as possible then. And I will go to the bank at twelve o'clock +to-morrow. A thousand thanks for all your good offices, my dear count." + +"It is a pleasure, I assure you." + +Orsino was so much pleased with Del Ferice's quick and business-like way +of arranging matters that he began to look upon him as a model to +imitate, so far as executive ability was concerned. It was odd enough +that any one of his name should feel anything like admiration for Ugo, +but friendship and hatred are only the opposite points at which the +social pendulum pauses before it swings backward, and they who live long +may see many oscillations. + +The two men went back to the drawing-room where Donna Tullia and Maria +Consuelo were discussing the complicated views of the almighty +dressmaker. Orsino knew that there was little chance of his speaking a +word alone with Madame d'Aranjuez and resigned himself to the effort of +helping the general conversation. Fortunately the time to be got over in +this way was not long, as all four had engagements in the evening. Maria +Consuelo rose at half-past ten, but Orsino determined to wait five +minutes longer, or at least to make a show of meaning to do so. But +Donna Tullia put out her hand as though she expected him to take his +leave at the same time. She was going to a ball and wanted at least an +hour in which to screw her magnificence up to the dancing pitch. + +The consequence was that Orsino found himself helping Maria Consuelo +into the modest hired conveyance which awaited her at the gate. He hoped +that she would offer him a seat for a short distance, but he was +disappointed. + +"May I come to-morrow?" he asked, as he closed the door of the carriage. +The night was not cold and the window was down. + +"Please tell the coachman to take me to the Via Nazionale," she said +quickly. + +"What number?" + +"Never mind--he knows--I have forgotten. Good-night." + +She tried to draw up the window, but Orsino held his hand on it. + +"May I come to-morrow?" he asked again. + +"No." + +"Are you angry with me still?" + +"No." + +"Then why--" + +"Let me shut the window. Take your hand away." + +Her voice was very imperative in the dark. Orsino relinquished his hold +on the frame, and the pane ran up suddenly into its place with a +rattling noise. There was obviously nothing more to be said. + +"Via Nazionale. The Signora says you know the house," he called to the +driver. + +The man looked surprised, shrugged his shoulders after the manner of +livery stable coachmen and drove slowly off in the direction indicated. +Orsino stood looking after the carriage and a few seconds later he saw +that the man drew rein and bent down to the front window as though +asking for orders. Orsino thought he heard Maria Consuelo's voice, +answering the question, but he could not distinguish what she said, and +the brougham drove on at once without taking a new direction. + +He was curious to know whither she was going, and the idea of following +her suggested itself but he instantly dismissed it, partly because it +seemed unworthy and partly, perhaps, because he was on foot, and no cab +was passing within hail. + +Orsino was very much puzzled. During the dinner she had behaved with her +usual cordiality but as soon as they were alone she spoke and acted as +she had done in the afternoon. Orsino turned away and walked across the +deserted square. He was greatly disturbed, for he felt a sense of +humiliation and disappointment quite new to him. Young as he was, he had +been accustomed already to a degree of consideration very different from +that which Maria Consuelo thought fit to bestow, and it was certainly +the first time in his life that a door--even the door of a carriage--had +been shut in his face without ceremony. What would have been an +unpardonable insult, coming from a man, was at least an indignity when +it came from a woman. As Orsino walked along, his wrath rose, and he +wondered why he had not been angry at once. + +"Very well," he said to himself. "She says she does not want me. I will +take her at her word and I will not go to see her any more. We shall see +what happens. She will find out that I am not a child, as she was good +enough to call me to-day, and that I am not in the habit of having +windows put up in my face. I have much more serious business on hand +than making love to Madame d'Aranjuez." + +The more he reflected upon the situation, the more angry he grew, and +when he reached the door of the club he was in a humour to quarrel with +everything and everybody. Fortunately, at that early hour, the place was +in the sole possession of half a dozen old gentlemen whose conversation +diverted his thoughts though it was the very reverse of edifying. +Between the stories they told and the considerable number of cigarettes +he smoked while listening to them he was almost restored to his normal +frame of mind by midnight, when four or five of his usual companions +straggled in and proposed baccarat. After his recent successes he could +not well refuse to play, so he sat down rather reluctantly with the +rest. Oddly enough he did not lose, though he won but little. + +"Lucky at play, unlucky in love," laughed one of the men carelessly. + +"What do you mean?" asked Orsino, turning sharply upon the speaker. + +"Mean? Nothing," answered the latter in great surprise. "What is the +matter with you, Orsino? Cannot one quote a common proverb?" + +"Oh--if you meant nothing, let us go on," Orsino answered gloomily. + +As he took up the cards again, he heard a sigh behind him and turning +round saw that Spicca was standing at his shoulder. He was shocked by +the melancholy count's face, though he was used to meeting him almost +every day. The haggard and cadaverous features, the sunken and careworn +eyes, contrasted almost horribly with the freshness and gaiety of +Orsino's companions, and the brilliant light in the room threw the +man's deadly pallor into strong relief. + +"Will you play, Count?" asked Orsino, making room for him. + +"Thanks--no. I never play nowadays," answered Spicca quietly. + +He turned and left the room. With all his apparent weakness his step was +not unsteady, though it was slower than in the old days. + +"He sighed in that way because we did not quarrel," said the man whose +quoted proverb had annoyed Orsino. + +"I am ready and anxious to quarrel with everybody to-night," answered +Orsino. "Let us play baccarat--that is much better." + +Spicca left the club alone and walked slowly homewards to his small +lodging in the Via della Croce. A few dying embers smouldered in the +little fireplace which warmed his sitting-room. He stirred them slowly, +took a stick of wood from the wicker basket, hesitated a moment, and +then put it back again instead of burning it. The night was not cold and +wood was very dear. He sat down under the light of the old lamp which +stood upon the mantelpiece, and drew a long breath. But presently, +putting his hand into the pocket of his overcoat in search of his +cigarette case, he drew out something else which he had almost +forgotten, a small something wrapped in coarse paper. He undid it and +looked at the little frame of chiselled brass which Donna Tullia had +found him buying in the afternoon, turning it over and over, absently, +as though thinking of something else. + +Then he fumbled in his pockets again and found a photograph which he had +also bought in the course of the day--the photograph of Gouache's latest +portrait, obtained in a contraband fashion and with some difficulty from +the photographer. + +Without hesitation Spicca took a pocket-knife and began to cut the head +out, with that extraordinary neatness and precision which characterised +him when he used any sharp instrument. The head just fitted the frame. +He fastened it in with drops of sealing-wax and carefully burned the +rest of the picture in the embers. + +The face of Maria Consuelo smiled at him in the lamplight, as he turned +it in different ways so as to find the best aspect of it. Then he hung +it on a nail above the mantelpiece just under a pair of crossed foils. + +"That man Gouache is a very clever fellow," he said aloud. "Between +them, he and nature have made a good likeness." + +He sat down again and it was a long time before he made up his mind to +take away the lamp and go to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Del Ferice kept his word and arranged matters for Orsino with a speed +and skill which excited the latter's admiration. The affair was not +indeed very complicated though it involved a deed of sale, the transfer +of a mortgage and a deed of partnership between Orsino Saracinesca and +Andrea Contini, architect, under the style "Andrea Contini and Company," +besides a contract between this firm of the one party and the bank in +which Del Ferice was a director, of the other, the partners agreeing to +continue the building of the half-finished house, and the bank binding +itself to advance small sums up to a certain amount for current expenses +of material and workmen's wages. Orsino signed everything required of +him after reading the documents, and Andrea Contini followed his +example. + +The architect was a tall man with bright brown eyes, a dark and somewhat +ragged beard, close cropped hair, a prominent, bony forehead and large, +coarsely shaped, thin ears oddly set upon his head. He habitually wore a +dark overcoat, of which the collar was generally turned up on one side +and not on the other. Judging from the appearance of his strong shoes he +had always been walking a long distance over bad roads, and when it had +rained within the week his trousers were generally bespattered with mud +to a considerable height above the heel. He habitually carried an +extinguished cigar between his teeth of which he chewed the thin black +end uneasily. Orsino fancied that he might be about eight and twenty +years old, and was not altogether displeased with his appearance. He was +not at all like the majority of his kind, who, in Rome at least, usually +affect a scrupulous dandyism of attire and an uncommon refinement of +manner. Whatever Contini's faults might prove to be, Orsino did not +believe that they would turn out to be those of idleness or vanity. How +far he was right in his judgment will appear before long, but he +conceived his partner to be gifted, frank, enthusiastic and careless of +outward forms. + +As for the architect himself, he surveyed Orsino with a sort of +sympathetic curiosity which the latter would have thought unpleasantly +familiar if he had understood it. Contini had never spoken before with +any more exalted personage than Del Ferice, and he studied the young +aristocrat as though he were a being from another world. He hesitated +some time as to the proper mode of addressing him and at last decided to +call him "Signor Principe." Orsino seemed quite satisfied with this, and +the architect was inwardly pleased when the young man said "Signor +Contini" instead of Contini alone. It was quite clear that Del Ferice +had already acquainted him with all the details of the situation, for he +seemed to understand all the documents at a glance, picking out and +examining the important clauses with unfailing acuteness, and pointing +with his finger to the place where Orsino was to sign his name. + +At the end of the interview Orsino shook hands with Del Ferice and +thanked him warmly for his kindness, after which, he and his partner +went out together. They stood side by side upon the pavement for a few +seconds, each wondering what the other was going to say. + +"Perhaps we had better go and look at the house, Signor Principe," +observed Contini, in the midst of an ineffectual effort to light the +stump of his cigar. + +"I think so, too," answered Orsino, realising that since he had acquired +the property it would be as well to know how it looked. "You see I have +trusted my adviser entirely in the matter, and I am ashamed to say I do +not know where the house is." + +Andrea Contini looked at him curiously. + +"This is the first time that you have had anything to do with business +of this kind, Signor Principe," he observed. "You have fallen into good +hands." + +"Yours?" inquired Orsino, a little stiffly. + +"No. I mean that Count Del Ferice is a good adviser in this matter." + +"I hope so." + +"I am sure of it," said Contini with conviction. "It would be a great +surprise to me if we failed to make a handsome profit by this contract." + +"There is luck and ill-luck in everything," answered Orsino, signalling +to a passing cab. + +The two men exchanged few words as they drove up to the new quarter in +the direction indicated to the driver by Contini. The cab entered a sort +of broad lane, the sketch of a future street, rough with the unrolled +metalling of broken stones, the space set apart for the pavement being +an uneven path of trodden brown earth. Here and there tall detached +houses rose out of the wilderness, mostly covered by scaffoldings and +swarming with workmen, but hideous where so far finished as to be +visible in all the isolation of their six-storied nakedness. A strong +smell of lime, wet earth and damp masonry was blown into Orsino's +nostrils by the scirocco wind. Contini stopped the cab before an +unpromising and deserted erection of poles, boards and tattered +matting. + +"This is our house," he said, getting out and immediately making another +attempt to light his cigar. + +"May I offer you a cigarette?" asked Orsino, holding out his case. + +Contini touched his hat, bowed a little awkwardly and took one of the +cigarettes, which he immediately transferred to his coat pocket. + +"If you will allow me I will smoke it by and by," he said. "I have not +finished my cigar." + +Orsino stood on the slippery ground beside the stones and contemplated +his purchase. All at once his heart sank and he felt a profound disgust +for everything within the range of his vision. He was suddenly aware of +his own total and hopeless ignorance of everything connected with +building, theoretical or practical. The sight of the stiff, angular +scaffoldings, draped with torn straw mattings that flapped fantastically +in the south-east wind, the apparent absence of anything like a real +house behind them, the blades of grass sprouting abundantly about the +foot of each pole and covering the heaps of brown pozzolana earth +prepared for making mortar, even the detail of a broken wooden hod +before the boarded entrance--all these things contributed at once to +increase his dismay and to fill him with a bitter sense of inevitable +failure. He found nothing to say, as he stood with his hands in his +pockets staring at the general desolation, but he understood for the +first time why women cry for disappointment. And moreover, this +desolation was his own peculiar property, by deed of purchase, and he +could not get rid of it. + +Meanwhile Andrea Contini stood beside him, examining the scaffoldings +with his bright brown eyes, in no way disconcerted by the prospect. + +"Shall we go in?" he asked at last. + +"Do unfinished houses always look like this?" inquired Orsino, in a +hopeless tone, without noticing his companion's proposition. + +"Not always," answered Contini cheerfully. "It depends upon the amount +of work that has been done, and upon other things. Sometimes the +foundations sink and the buildings collapse." + +"Are you sure nothing of the kind has happened here?" asked Orsino with +increasing anxiety. + +"I have been several times to look at it since the baker died and I have +not noticed any cracks yet," answered the architect, whose coolness +seemed almost exasperating. + +"I suppose you understand these things, Signor Contini?" + +Contini laughed, and felt in his pockets for a crumpled paper box of +wax-lights. + +"It is my profession," he answered. "And then, I built this house from +the foundations. If you will come in, Signor Principe, I will show you +how solidly the work is done." + +He took a key from his pocket and thrust it into a hole in the boarding, +which latter proved to be a rough door and opened noisily upon rusty +hinges. Orsino followed him in silence. To the young man's inexperienced +eye the interior of the building was even more depressing than the +outside. It smelt like a vault, and a dim grey light entered the square +apertures from the curtained scaffoldings without, just sufficient to +help one to find a way through the heaps of rubbish that covered the +unpaved floors. Contini explained rapidly and concisely the arrangement +of the rooms, calling one cave familiarly a dining-room and another a +"conjugal bedroom," as he expressed it, and expatiating upon the +facilities of communication which he himself had carefully planned. +Orsino listened in silence and followed his guide patiently from place +to place, in and out of dark passages and up flights of stairs as yet +unguarded by any rail, until they emerged upon a sort of flat terrace +intersected by low walls, which was indeed another floor and above which +another story and a garret were yet to be built to complete the house. +Orsino looked gloomily about him, lighted a cigarette and sat down upon +a bit of masonry. + +"To me, it looks very like failure," he remarked. "But I suppose there +is something in it." + +"It will not look like failure next month," said Contini carelessly. +"Another story is soon built, and then the attic, and then, if you like, +a Gothic roof and a turret at one corner. That always attracts buyers +first and respectable lodgers afterwards." + +"Let us have a turret, by all means," answered Orsino, as though his +tailor had proposed to put an extra button on the cuff of his coat. "But +how in the world are you going to begin? Everything looks to me as +though it were falling to pieces." + +"Leave all that to me, Signor Principe. We will begin to-morrow. I have +a good overseer and there are plenty of workmen to be had. We have +material for a week at least, and paid for, excepting a few cartloads of +lime. Come again in ten days and you will see something worth looking +at." + +"In ten days? And what am I to do in the meantime?" asked Orsino, who +fancied that he had found an occupation. + +Andrea Contini looked at him in some surprise, not understanding in the +least what he meant. + +"I mean, am I to have nothing to do with the work?" asked Orsino. + +"Oh--as far as that goes, you will come every day, Signor Principe, if +it amuses you, though as you are not a practical architect, your +assistance is not needed until questions of taste have to be considered, +such as the Gothic roof for instance. But there are the accounts to be +kept, of course, and there is the business with the bank from week to +week, office work of various kinds. That becomes naturally your +department, as the practical superintendence of the building is mine, +but you will of course leave it to the steward of the Signor Principe di +Sant' Ilario, who is a man of affairs." + +"I will do nothing of the kind!" exclaimed Orsino. "I will do it myself. +I will learn how it is done. I want occupation." + +"What an extraordinary wish!" Andrea Contini opened his eyes in real +astonishment. + +"Is it? You work. Why should not I?" + +"I must, and you need not, Signor Principe," observed the architect. +"But if you insist, then you had better get a clerk to explain the +details to you at first." + +"Do you not understand them? Can you not teach me?" asked Orsino, +displeased with the idea of employing a third person. + +"Oh yes--I have been a clerk myself. I should be too much honoured +but--the fact is, my spare time--" + +He hesitated and seemed reluctant to explain. + +"What do you do with your spare time?" asked Orsino, suspecting some +love affair. + +"The fact is--I play a second violin at one of the theatres--and I give +lessons on the mandolin, and sometimes I do copying work for my uncle +who is a clerk in the Treasury. You see, he is old, and his eyes are not +as good as they were." + +Orsino began to think that his partner was a very odd person. He could +not help smiling at the enumeration of his architect's secondary +occupations. + +"You are very fond of music, then?" he asked. + +"Eh--yes--as one can be, without talent--a little by necessity. To be an +architect one must have houses to build. You see the baker died +unexpectedly. One must live somehow." + +"And could you not--how shall I say? Would you not be willing to give me +lessons in book-keeping instead of teaching some one else to play the +mandolin?" + +"You would not care to learn the mandolin yourself, Signor Principe? It +is a very pretty instrument, especially for country parties, as well as +for serenading." + +Orsino laughed. He did not see himself in the character of a +mandolinist. + +"I have not the slightest ear for music," he answered. "I would much +rather learn something about business." + +"It is less amusing," said Andrea Contini regretfully. + +"But I am at your service. I will come to the office when work is over +and we will do the accounts together. You will learn in that way very +quickly." + +"Thank you. I suppose we must have an office. It is necessary, is it +not?" + +"Indispensable--a room, a garret--anything. A habitation, a legal +domicile, so to say." + +"Where do you live, Signor Contini? Would not your lodging do?" + +"I am afraid not, Signor Principe. At least not for the present. I am +not very well lodged and the stairs are badly lighted." + +"Why not here, then?" asked Orsino, suddenly growing desperately +practical, for he felt unaccountably reluctant to hire an office in the +city. + +"We should pay no rent," said Contini. "It is an idea. But the walls are +dry downstairs, and we only need a pavement, and plastering, and doors +and windows, and papering and some furniture to make one of the rooms +quite habitable. It is an idea, undoubtedly. Besides, it would give the +house an air of being inhabited, which is valuable." + +"How long will all that take? A month or two?" + +"About a week. It will be a little fresh, but if you are not rheumatic, +Signor Principe, we can try it." + +"I am not rheumatic," laughed Orsino, who was pleased with the idea of +having his office on the spot, and apparently in the midst of a +wilderness. "And I suppose you really do understand architecture, Signor +Contini, though you do play the fiddle." + +In this exceedingly sketchy way was the firm of Andrea Contini and +Company established and lodged, being at the time in a very shadowy +state, theoretically and practically, though it was destined to play a +more prominent part in affairs than either of the young partners +anticipated. Orsino discovered before long that his partner was a man of +skill and energy, and his spirits rose by degrees as the work began to +advance. Contini was restless, untiring and gifted, such a character as +Orsino had not yet met in his limited experience of the world. The man +seemed to understand his business to the smallest details and could show +the workmen how to mix mortar in the right proportions, or how to +strengthen a scaffolding at the weak point much better than the overseer +or the master builder. At the books he seemed to be infallible, and he +possessed, moreover, such a power of stating things clearly and neatly +that Orsino actually learnt from him in a few weeks what he would have +needed six months to learn anywhere else. As soon as the first dread of +failure wore off, Orsino discovered that he was happier than he had ever +been in the course of his life before. What he did was not, indeed, of +much use in the progress of the office work and rather hindered than +helped Contini, who was obliged to do everything slowly and sometimes +twice over in order to make his pupil understand; but Orsino had a clear +and practical mind, and did not forget what he had learned once. An odd +sort of friendship sprang up between the two men, who under ordinary +circumstances would never have met, or known each other by sight. The +one had expected to find in his partner an overbearing, ignorant +patrician; the other had supposed that his companion would turn out a +vulgar, sordid, half-educated builder. Both were equally surprised when +each discovered the truth about the other. + +Though Orsino was reticent by nature, he took no especial pains to +conceal his goings and comings, but as his occupation took him out of +the ordinary beat followed by his idle friends, it was a long time +before any of them discovered that he was engaged in practical business. +In his own home he was not questioned, and he said nothing. The +Saracinesca were considered eccentric, but no one interfered with them +nor ventured to offer them suggestions. If they chose to allow their +heir absolute liberty of action, merely because he had passed his +twenty-first birthday, it was their own concern, and his ruin would be +upon their own heads. No one cared to risk a savage retort from the aged +prince, or a cutting answer from Sant' Ilario for the questionable +satisfaction of telling either that Orsino was going to the bad. The +only person who really knew what Orsino was about, and who could have +claimed the right to speak to his family of his doings was San Giacinto, +and he held his peace, having plenty of important affairs of his own to +occupy him and being blessed with an especial gift for leaving other +people to themselves. + +Sant' Ilario never spied upon his son, as many of his contemporaries +would have done in his place. He preferred to trust him to his own +devices so long as these led to no great mischief. He saw that Orsino +was less restless than formerly, that he was less at the club, and that +he was stirring earlier in the morning than had been his wont, and he +was well satisfied. + +It was not to be expected, however, that Orsino should take Maria +Consuelo literally at her word, and cease from visiting her all at once. +If not really in love with her, he was at least so much interested in +her that he sorely missed the daily half hour or more which he had been +used to spend in her society. + +Three several times he went to her hotel at the accustomed hour, and +each time he was told by the porter that she was at home; but on each +occasion, also, when he sent up his card, the hotel servant returned +with a message from the maid to the effect that Madame d'Aranjuez was +tired and did not receive. Orsino's pride rebelled equally against +making a further attempt and against writing a letter requesting an +explanation. Once only, when he was walking alone she passed him in a +carriage, and she acknowledged his bow quietly and naturally, as though +nothing had happened. He fancied she was paler than usual, and that +there were shadows under her eyes which he had not formerly noticed. +Possibly, he thought, she was really not in good health, and the excuses +made through her maid were not wholly invented. He was conscious that +his heart beat a little faster as he watched the back of the brougham +disappearing in the distance, but he did not feel an irresistible +longing to make another and more serious attempt to see her. He tried to +analyse his own sensations, and it seemed to him that he rather dreaded +a meeting than desired it, and that he felt a certain humiliation for +which he could not account. In the midst of his analysis, his cigarette +went out and he sighed. He was startled by such an expression of +feeling, and tried to remember whether he had ever sighed before in his +life, but if he had, he could not recall the circumstances. He tried to +console himself with the absurd supposition that he was sleepy and that +the long-drawn breath had been only a suppressed yawn. Then he walked +on, gazing before him into the purple haze that filled the deep street +just as the sun was setting, and a vague sadness and longing touched him +which had no place in his catalogue of permissible emotions and which +were as far removed from the cold cynicism which he admired in others +and affected in himself as they were beyond the sphere of his analysis. + +There is an age, not always to be fixed exactly, at which the really +masculine nature craves the society of womankind, in one shape or +another, as a necessity of existence, and by the society of womankind no +one means merely the daily and hourly social intercourse which consists +in exchanging the same set of remarks half a dozen times a day with as +many beings of gentle sex who, to the careless eye of ordinary man, +differ from each other in dress rather than in face or thought. There +are eminently manly men, that is to say men fearless, strong, honourable +and active, to whom the common five o'clock tea presents as much +distraction and offers as much womanly sympathy as they need; who choose +their intimate friends among men, rather than among women, and who die +at an advanced age without ever having been more than comfortably in +love--and of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. The masculine man may be as +brave, as strong and as scrupulously just in all his dealings, but on +the other hand he may be weak, cowardly and a cheat, and he is apt to +inherit the portion of sinners, whatever his moral characteristics may +be, good or bad. + +Orsino was certainly not unmanly, but he was also eminently masculine +and he began to suffer from the loss of Maria Consuelo's conversation in +a way that surprised himself. His acquaintance with her, to give it a +mild name, had been the first of the kind which he had enjoyed, and it +contrasted too strongly with the crude experiences of his untried youth +not to be highly valued by him and deeply regretted. He might pretend to +laugh at it, and repeat to himself that his Egeria had been but a very +superficial person, fervent in the reading of the daily novel and +possibly not even worldly wise; he did not miss her any the less for +that. A little sympathy and much patience in listening will go far to +make a woman of small gifts indispensable even to a man of superior +talent, especially when he thinks himself misunderstood in his ordinary +surroundings. The sympathy passes for intelligence and the patience for +assent and encouragement--a touch of the hand, and there is friendship, +a tear, a sigh, and devotion stands upon the stage, bearing in her arms +an infant love who learns to walk his part at the first suspicion of a +kiss. + +Orsino did not imagine that he had exhausted the world's capabilities of +happiness. The age of Byronism, as it used to be called, is over. +Possibly tragedies are more real and frequent in our day than when the +century was young; at all events those which take place seem to draw a +new element of horror from those undefinable, mechanical, prosaic, +psuedo-scientific conditions which make our lives so different from +those of our fathers. Everything is terribly sudden nowadays, and +alarmingly quick. Lovers make love across Europe by telegraph, and +poetic justice arrives in less than forty-eight hours by the Oriental +Express. Divorce is our weapon of precision, and every pack of cards at +the gaming table can distil a poison more destructive than that of the +Borgia. The unities of time and place are preserved by wire and rail in +a way which would have delighted the hearts of the old French tragics. +Perhaps men seek dramatic situations in their own lives less readily +since they have found out means of making the concluding act more swift, +sudden and inevitable. At all events we all like tragedy less and comedy +more than our fathers did, which, I think, shows that we are sadder and +possibly wiser men than they. + +However this may be, Orsino was no more inclined to fancy himself +unhappy than any of his familiar companions, though he was quite willing +to believe that he understood most of life's problems, and especially +the heart of woman. He continued to go into the world, for it was new to +him and if he did not find exactly the sort of sympathy he secretly +craved, he found at least a great deal of consideration, some flattery +and a certain amount of amusement. But when he was not actually being +amused, or really engaged in the work which he had undertaken with so +much enthusiasm, he felt lonely and missed Maria Consuelo more than +ever. By this time she had taken a position in society from which there +could be no drawing back, and he gave up for ever the hope of seeing her +in his own circle. She seemed to avoid even the grey houses where they +might have met on neutral ground, and Orsino saw that his only chance of +finding her in the world lay in going frequently and openly to Del +Ferice's house. He had called on Donna Tullia after the dinner, of +course, but he was not prepared to do more, and Del Ferice did not seem +to expect it. + +Three or four weeks after he had entered into partnership with Andrea +Contini, Orsino found himself alone with his mother in the evening. +Corona was seated near the fire in her favourite boudoir, with a book in +her hand, and Orsino stood warming himself on one side of the +chimney-piece, staring into the flames and occasionally glancing at his +mother's calm, dark face. He was debating whether he should stay at home +or not. + +Corona became conscious that he looked at her from time to time and +dropped her novel upon her knee. + +"Are you going out, Orsino?" she asked. + +"I hardly know," he answered. "There is nothing particular to do, and it +is too late for the theatre." + +"Then stay with me. Let us talk." She looked at him affectionately and +pointed to a low chair near her. + +He drew it up until he could see her face as she spoke, and then sat +down. + +"What shall we talk about, mother?" he asked, with a smile. + +"About yourself, if you like, my dear. That is, if you have anything +that you know I would like to hear. I am not curious, am I, Orsino? I +never ask you questions about yourself." + +"No, indeed. You never tease me with questions--nor does my father +either, for that matter. Would you really like to know what I am doing?" + +"If you will tell me." + +"I am building a house," said Orsino, looking at her to see the effect +of the announcement. + +"A house?" repeated Corona in surprise. "Where? Does your father know +about it?" + +"He said he did not care what I did." Orsino spoke rather bitterly. + +"That does not sound like him, my dear. Tell me all about it. Have you +quarrelled with him, or had words together?" + +Orsino told his story quickly, concisely and with a frankness he would +perhaps not have shown to any one else in the world, for he did not even +conceal his connection with Del Ferice. Corona listened intently, and +her deep eyes told him plainly enough that she was interested. On his +part he found an unexpected pleasure in telling her the tale, and he +wondered why it had never struck him that his mother might sympathise +with his plans and aspirations. When he had finished, he waited for her +first word almost as anxiously as he would have waited for an expression +of opinion from Maria Consuelo. + +Corona did not speak at once. She looked into his eyes, smiled, patted +his lean brown hand lovingly and smiled again before she spoke. + +"I like it," she said at last. "I like you to be independent and +determined. You might perhaps have chosen a better man than Del Ferice +for your adviser. He did something once--well, never mind! It was long +ago and it did us no harm." + +"What did he do, mother? I know my father wounded him in a duel before +you were married--" + +"It was not that. I would rather not tell you about it--it can do no +good, and after all, it has nothing to do with the present affair. He +would not be so foolish as to do you an injury now. I know him very +well. He is far too clever for that." + +"He is certainly clever," said Orsino. He knew that it would be quite +useless to question his mother further after what she had said. "I am +glad that you do not think I have made a mistake in going into this +business." + +"No. I do not think you have made a mistake, and I do not believe that +your father will think so either when he knows all about it." + +"He need not have been so icily discouraging," observed Orsino. + +"He is a man, my dear, and I am a woman. That is the difference. Was San +Giacinto more encouraging than he? No. They think alike, and San +Giacinto has an immense experience besides. And yet they are both wrong. +You may succeed, or you may fail--I hope you will succeed--but I do not +care much for the result. It is the principle I like, the idea, the +independence of the thing. As I grow old, I think more than I used to do +when I was young." + +"How can you talk of growing old!" exclaimed Orsino indignantly. + +"I think more," said Corona again, not heeding him. "One of my thoughts +is that our old restricted life was a mistake for us, and that to keep +it up would be a sin for you. The world used to stand still in those +days, and we stood at the head of it, or thought we did. But it is +moving now and you must move with it or you will not only have to give +up your place, but you will be left behind altogether." + +"I had no idea that you were so modern, dearest mother," laughed Orsino. +He felt suddenly very happy and in the best of humours with himself. + +"Modern--no, I do not think that either your father or I could ever be +that. If you had lived our lives you would see how impossible it is. The +most I can hope to do is to understand you and your brothers as you grow +up to be men. But I hate interference and I hate curiosity--the one +breeds opposition and the other dishonesty--and if the other boys turn +out to be as reticent as you, Orsino, I shall not always know when they +want me. You do not realise how much you have been away from me since +you were a boy, nor how silent you have grown when you are at home." + +"Am I, mother? I never meant to be." + +"I know it, dear, and I do not want you to be always confiding in me. It +is not a good thing for a young man. You are strong and the more you +rely upon yourself, the stronger you will grow. But when you want +sympathy, if you ever do, remember that I have my whole heart full of it +for you. For that, at least, come to me. No one can give you what I can +give you, dear son." + +Orsino was touched and pressed her hand, kissing it more than once. He +did not know whether in her last words she had meant any allusion to +Maria Consuelo, or whether, indeed, she had been aware of his intimacy +with the latter. But he did not ask the question of her nor of himself. +For the moment he felt that a want in his nature had been satisfied, and +he wondered again why he had never thought of confiding in his mother. + +They talked of his plans until it was late, and from that time they were +more often together than before, each growing daily more proud of the +other, though perhaps Orsino had better reasons for his pride than +Corona could have found, for the love of mother for son is more +comprehensive and not less blind than the passion of woman for man. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +The short Roman season was advancing rapidly to its premature fall, +which is on Ash Wednesday, after which it struggles to hold up its head +against the overwhelming odds of a severely observed Lent, to revive +only spasmodically after Easter and to die a natural death on the first +warm day. In that year, too, the fatal day fell on the fifteenth of +February, and progressive spirits talked of the possibility of fixing +the movable Feasts and Fasts of the Church in a more convenient part of +the calendar. Easter might be made to fall in June, for instance, and +society need not be informed of its inevitable and impending return to +dust and ashes until it had enjoyed a good three months, or even four, +of what an eminent American defines as "brass, sass, lies and sin." + +Rome was very gay that year, to compensate for the shortness of its +playtime. Everything was successful, and every one was rich. People +talked of millions less soberly than they had talked of thousands a few +years earlier, and with less respect than they mentioned hundreds twelve +months later. Like the vanity-struck frog, the franc blew itself up to +the bursting point, in the hope of being taken for the louis, and +momentarily succeeded, even beyond its own expectations. No one walked, +though horse-flesh was enormously dear and a good coachman's wages +amounted to just twice the salary of a government clerk. Men who, six +months earlier, had climbed ladders with loads of brick or mortar, were +now transformed into flourishing sub-contractors, and drove about in +smart pony-carts, looking the picture of Italian prosperity, rejoicing +in the most flashy of ties and smoking the blackest and longest of long +black cigars. During twenty hours out of the twenty-four the gates of +the city roared with traffic. From all parts of the country labourers +poured in, bundle in hand and tools on shoulder to join in the enormous +work and earn their share of the pay that was distributed so liberally. +A certain man who believed in himself stood up and said that Rome was +becoming one of the greatest of cities, and he smacked his lips and said +that he had done it, and that the Triple Alliance was a goose which +would lay many golden eggs. The believing bulls roared everything away +before them, opposition, objections, financial experience, and the +vanquished bears hibernated in secret places, sucking their paws and +wondering what, in the name of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, would happen +next. Distinguished men wrote pamphlets in the most distinguished +language to prove that wealth was a baby capable of being hatched +artificially and brought up by hand. Every unmarried swain who could +find a bride, married her forthwith; those who could not followed the +advice of an illustrious poet and, being over-anxious to take wives, +took those of others. Everybody was decorated. It positively rained +decorations and hailed grand crosses and enough commanders' ribbons were +reeled out to have hanged half the population. The periodical attempt to +revive the defunct carnival in the Corso was made, and the yet unburied +corpse of ancient gaiety was taken out and painted, and gorgeously +arrayed, and propped up in its seat to be a posthumous terror to its +enemies, like the dead Cid. Society danced frantically and did all those +things which it ought not to have done--and added a few more, +unconsciously imitating Pico della Mirandola. + +Even those comparatively few families who, like the Saracinesca, had +scornfully declined to dabble in the whirlpool of affairs, did not by +any means refuse to dance to the music of success which filled the city +with, such enchanting strains. The Princess Befana rose from her +deathbed with more than usual vivacity and went to the length of opening +her palace on two evenings in two successive weeks, to the intense +delight of her gay and youthful heirs, who earnestly hoped that the +excitement might kill her at last, and kill her beyond resurrection this +time. But they were disappointed. She still dies periodically in winter +and blooms out again in spring with the poppies, affording a perpetual +and edifying illustration of the changes of the year, or, as some say, +of the doctrine of immortality. On one of those memorable occasions she +walked through a quadrille with the aged Prince Saracinesca, whereupon +Sant' Ilario slipped his arm round Corona's waist and waltzed with her +down the whole length of the ballroom and back again amidst the applause +of his contemporaries and their children. If Orsino had had a wife he +would have followed their example. As it was, he looked rather gloomily +in the direction of a silent and high-born damsel with whom he was +condemned to dance the cotillon at a later hour. + +So all went gaily on until Ash Wednesday extinguished the social flame, +suddenly and beyond relighting. And still Orsino did not meet Maria +Consuelo, and still he hesitated to make another attempt to find her at +home. He began to wonder whether he should ever see her again, and as +the days went by he almost wished that Donna Tullia would send him a +card for her lenten evenings, at which Maria Consuelo regularly assisted +as he learned from the papers. After that first invitation to dinner, he +had expected that Del Ferice's wife would make an attempt to draw him +into her circle; and, indeed, she would probably have done so had she +followed her own instinct instead of submitting to the higher policy +dictated by her husband. Orsino waited in vain, not knowing whether to +be annoyed at the lack of consideration bestowed upon him, or to admire +the tact which assumed that he would never wish to enter the Del Ferice +circle. + +It is presumably clear that Orsino was not in love with Madame +d'Aranjuez, and he himself appreciated the fact with a sense of +disappointment. He was amazed at his own coldness and at the +indifference with which he had submitted to what amounted to a most +abrupt dismissal. He even went so far as to believe that Maria Consuelo +had repulsed him designedly in the hope of kindling a more sincere +passion. In that case she had been egregiously mistaken, he thought. He +felt a curiosity to see her again before she left Rome, but it was +nothing more than that. A new and absorbing interest had taken +possession of him which at first left little room in his nature for +anything else. His days were spent in the laborious study of figures and +plans, broken only by occasional short but amusing conversations with +Andrea Contini. His evenings were generally passed among a set of people +who did not know Maria Consuelo except by sight and who had long ceased +to ask him questions about her. Of late, too, he had missed his daily +visits to her less and less, until he hardly regretted them at all, nor +so much as thought of the possibility of renewing them. He laughed at +the idea that his mother should have taken the place of a woman whom he +had begun to love, and yet he was conscious that it was so, though he +asked himself how long such a condition of things could last. Corona was +far too wise to discuss his affairs with his father. He was too like +herself for her to misunderstand him, and if she regarded the whole +matter as perfectly harmless and as a legitimate subject for general +conversation, she yet understood perfectly that having been once +rebuffed by Sant' Ilario, Orsino must wish to be fully successful in his +attempt before mentioning it again to the latter. And she felt so +strongly in sympathy with her son that his work gradually acquired an +intense interest for her, and she would have sacrificed much rather +than see it fail. She did not on that account blame Giovanni for his +discouraging view when Orsino had consulted him. Giovanni was the +passion of her life and was not fallible in his impulses, though his +judgment might sometimes be at fault in technical matters for which he +cared nothing. But her love for her son was as great and sincere in its +own way, and her pride in him was such as to make his success a +condition of her future happiness. + +One of the greatest novelists of this age begins one of his greatest +novels with the remark that "all happy families resemble each other, but +that every unhappy family is unhappy in its own especial way." +Generalities are dangerous in proportion as they are witty or striking, +or both, and it may be asked whether the great Tolstoi has not fallen a +victim to his own extraordinary power of striking and witty +generalisations. Does the greatest of all his generalisations, the wide +disclaimer of his early opinions expressed in the postscript +subsequently attached by him to his _Kreutzer Sonata_, include also the +words I have quoted, and which were set up, so to say, as the theme of +his _Anna Karjenina_? One may almost hope so. I am no critic, but those +words somehow seem to me to mean that only unhappiness can be +interesting. It is not pleasant to think of the consequences to which +the acceptance of such a statement might lead. + +There are no statistics to tell us whether the majority of living men +and women are to be considered as happy or unhappy. But it does seem +true that whereas a single circumstance can cause very great and lasting +unhappiness, felicity is always dependent upon more than one condition +and often upon so many as to make the explanation of it a highly +difficult and complicated matter. + +Corona had assuredly little reason to complain of her lot during the +past twenty years, but unruffled and perfect as it had seemed to her she +began to see that there were sources of sorrow and satisfaction before +her which had not yet poured their bitter or sweet streams into the +stately river of her mature life. The new interest which Orsino had +created for her became more and more absorbing, and she watched it and +tended it, and longed to see it grow to greater proportions. The +situation was strange in one way at least. Orsino was working and his +mother was helping him to work in the hope of a financial success which +neither of them wanted or cared for. Possibly the certainty that failure +could entail no serious consequences made the game a more amusing if a +less exciting one to play. + +"If I lose," said Orsino to her, "I can only lose the few thousands I +invested. If I win, I will give you a string of pearls as a keepsake." + +"If you lose, dear boy," answered Corona, "it must be because you had +not enough to begin with. I will give you as much as you need, and we +will try again." + +They laughed happily together. Whatever chanced, things must turn out +well. Orsino worked very hard, and Corona was very rich in her own right +and could afford to help to any extent she thought necessary. She could, +indeed, have taken the part of the bank and advanced him all the money +he needed, but it seemed useless to interfere with the existing +arrangements. + +In Lent the house had reached an important point in its existence. +Andrea Contini had completed the Gothic roof and the turret which +appeared to him in the first vision of his dream, but to which the +defunct baker had made objections on the score of expense. The masons +were almost all gone and another set of workmen were busy with finer +tools moulding cornices and laying on the snow-white stucco. Within, the +joiners and carpenters kept up a ceaseless hammering. + +One day Andrea Contini walked into the office after a tour of +inspection, with a whole cigar, unlighted and intact, between his teeth. +Orsino was well aware from this circumstance that something unusually +fortunate had happened or was about to happen, and he rose from his +books, as soon as he recognised the fair-weather signal. + +"We can sell the house whenever we like," said the architect, his bright +brown eyes sparkling with satisfaction. + +"Already!" exclaimed Orsino who, though equally delighted at the +prospect of such speedy success, regretted in his heart the damp walls +and the constant stir of work which he had learned to like so well. + +"Already--yes. One needs luck like ours! The count has sent a man up in +a cab to say that an acquaintance of his will come and look at the +building to-day between twelve and one with a view to buying. The sooner +we look out for some fresh undertaking, the better. What do you say, Don +Orsino?" + +"It is all your doing, Contini. Without you I should still be standing +outside and watching the mattings flapping in the wind, as I did on that +never-to-be-forgotten first day." + +"I conceive that a house cannot be built without an architect," answered +Contini, laughing, "and it has always been plain to me that there can be +no architects without houses to build. But as for any especial credit to +me, I refute the charge indignantly. I except the matter of the turret, +which is evidently what has attracted the buyer. I always thought it +would. You would never have thought of a turret, would you, Don Orsino?" + +"Certainly not, nor of many other things," answered Orsino, laughing. +"But I am sorry to leave the place. I have grown into liking it." + +"What can one do? It is the way of the world--'lieto ricordo d'un amor +che fù,'" sang Contini in the thin but expressive falsetto which seems +to be the natural inheritance of men who play upon stringed instruments. +He broke off in the middle of a bar and laughed, out of sheer delight at +his own good fortune. + +In due time the purchaser came, saw and actually bought. He was a +problematic personage with a disquieting nose, who spoke few words but +examined everything with an air of superior comprehension. He looked +keenly at Orsino but seemed to have no idea who he was and put all his +questions to Contini. + +After agreeing to the purchase he inquired whether Andrea Contini and +Company had any other houses of the same description building and if so +where they were situated, adding that he liked the firm's way of doing +things. He stipulated for one or two slight improvements, made an +appointment for a meeting with the notaries on the following day and +went off with a rather unceremonious nod to the partners. The name he +left was that of a well-known capitalist from the south, and Contini was +inclined to think he had seen him before, but was not certain. + +Within a week the business was concluded, the buyer took over the +mortgage as Orsino and Contini had done and paid the difference in cash +into the bank, which deducted the amounts due on notes of hand before +handing the remainder to the two young men. The buyer also kept back a +small part of the purchase money to be paid on taking possession, when +the house was to be entirely finished. Andrea Contini and Company had +realised a considerable sum of money. + +"The question is, what to do next," said Orsino thoughtfully. + +"We had better look about us for something promising," said his partner. +"A corner lot in this same quarter. Corner houses are more interesting +to build and people like them to live in because they can see two or +three ways at once. Besides, a corner is always a good place for a +turret. Let us take a walk--smoking and strolling, we shall find +something." + +"A year ago, no doubt," answered Orsino, who was becoming worldly wise. +"A year ago that would have been well enough. But listen to me. That +house opposite to ours has been finished some time, yet nobody has +bought it. What is the reason?" + +"It faces north and not south, as ours does, and it has not a Gothic +roof." + +"My dear Contini, I do not mean to say that the Gothic roof has not +helped us very much, but it cannot have helped us alone. How about those +two houses together at the end of the next block. Balconies, travertine +columns, superior doors and windows, spaces for hydraulic lifts and all +the rest of it. Yet no one buys. Dry, too, and almost ready to live in, +and all the joinery of pitch pine. There is a reason for their ill +luck." + +"What do you think it is?" asked Contini, opening his eyes. + +"The land on which they are built was not in the hands of Del Ferice's +bank, and the money that built them was not advanced by Del Ferice's +bank, and Del Ferice's bank has no interest in selling the houses +themselves. Therefore they are not sold." + +"But surely there are other banks in Rome, and private individuals--" + +"No, I do not believe that there are," said Orsino with conviction. "My +cousin of San Giacinto thinks that the selling days are over, and I +fancy he is right, except about Del Ferice, who is cleverer than any of +us. We had better not deceive ourselves, Contini. Del Ferice sold our +house for us, and unless we keep with him we shall not sell another so +easily. His bank has a lot of half-finished houses on its hands secured +by mortgages which are worthless until the houses are habitable. Del +Ferice wants us to finish those houses for him, in order to recover +their value. If we do it, we shall make a profit. If we attempt anything +on our own account we shall fail. Am I right or not?" + +"What can I say? At all events you are on the safe side. But why has not +the count given all this work to some old established firm of his +acquaintance?" + +"Because he cannot trust any one as he can trust us, and he knows it." + +"Of course I owe the count a great deal for his kindness in introducing +me to you. He knew all about me before the baker died, and afterwards I +waited for him outside the Chambers one evening and asked him if he +could find anything for me to do, but he did not give me much +encouragement. I saw you speak to him and get into his carriage--was it +not you?" + +"Yes--it was I," answered Orsino, remembering the tall man in an +overcoat who had disappeared in the dusk on the evening when he himself +had first sought Del Ferice. "Yes, and you see we are both under a sort +of obligation to him which is another reason for taking his advice." + +"Obligations are humiliating!" exclaimed Contini impatiently. "We have +succeeded in increasing our capital--your capital, Don Orsino--let us +strike out for ourselves." + +"I think my reasons are good," said Orsino quietly. "And as for +obligations, let us remember that we are men of business." + +It appears from this that the low-born Andrea Contini and the high and +mighty Don Orsino Saracinesca were not very far from exchanging places +so far as prejudice was concerned. Contini noticed the fact and smiled. + +"After all," he said, "if you can accept the situation, I ought to +accept it, too." + +"It is a matter of business," said Orsino, returning to his argument. +"There is no such thing as obligation where money is borrowed on good +security and a large interest is regularly paid." + +It was clear that Orsino was developing commercial instincts. His +grandfather would have died of rage on the spot if he could have +listened to the young fellow's cool utterances. But Contini was not +pleased and would not abandon his position so easily. + +"It is very well for you, Don Orsino," he said, vainly attempting to +light his cigar. "You do not need the money as I do. You take it from +Del Ferice because it amuses you to do so, not because you are obliged +to accept it. That is the difference. The count knows It too, and knows +that he is not conferring a favour but receiving one. You do him an +honour in borrowing his money. He lays me under an obligation in lending +it." + +"We must get money somewhere," answered Orsino with indifference. "If +not from Del Ferice, then from some other bank. And as for obligations, +as you call them, he is not the bank himself, and the bank does not lend +its money in order to amuse me or to humiliate you, my friend. But if +you insist, I shall say that the convenience is not on one side only. If +Del Ferice supports us it is because we serve his interests. If he has +done us a good turn, it is a reason why we should do him one, and build +his houses rather than those of other people. You talk about my +conferring a favour upon him. Where will he find another Andrea Contini +and Company to make worthless property valuable for him? In that sense +you and I are earning his gratitude, by the simple process of being +scrupulously honest. I do not feel in the least humiliated, I assure +you." + +"I cannot help it," replied Contini, biting his cigar savagely. "I have +a heart, and it beats with good blood. Do you know that there is blood +of Cola di Rienzo in my veins?" + +"No. You never told me," answered Orsino, one of whose forefathers had +been concerned in the murder of the tribune, a fact to which he thought +it best not to refer at the present moment. + +"And the blood of Cola di Rienzo burns under the shame of an +obligation!" cried Contini, with a heat hardly warranted by the +circumstances. "It is humiliating, it is base, to submit to be the tool +of a Del Ferice--we all know who and what Del Ferice was, and how he +came by his title of count, and how he got his fortune--a spy, an +intriguer! In a good cause? Perhaps. I was not born then, nor you +either, Signor Principe, and we do not know what the world was like, +when it was quite another world. That is not a reason for serving a +spy!" + +"Calm yourself, my friend. We are not in Del Ferice's service." + +"Better to die than that! Better to kill him at once and go to the +galleys for a few years! Better to play the fiddle, or pick rags, or beg +in the streets than that, Signor Principe. One must respect oneself. You +see it yourself. One must be a man, and feel as a man. One must feel +those things here, Signor Principe, here in the heart!" + +Contini struck his breast with his clenched fist and bit the end of his +cigar quite through in his anger. Then he suddenly seized his hat and +rushed out of the room. + +Orsino was less surprised at the outburst than might have been expected, +and did not attach any great weight to his partner's dramatic rage. But +he lit a cigarette and carefully thought over the situation, trying to +find out whether there were really any ground for Contini's first +remarks. He was perfectly well aware that as Orsino Saracinesca he would +cut his own throat with enthusiasm rather than borrow a louis of Ugo Del +Ferice. But as Andrea Contini and Company he was another person, and so +Del Ferice was not Count Del Ferice, nor the Onorevole Del Ferice, but +simply a director in a bank with which he had business. If the interests +of Andrea Contini and Company were identical with those of the bank, +there was no reason whatever for interrupting relations both amicable +and profitable, merely because one member of the firm claimed to be +descended from Cola di Bienzo, a defunct personage in whom Orsino felt +no interest whatever. Andrea Contini, considering his social relations, +might be on terms of friendship with his hatter, for instance, or might +have personal reasons for disliking him. In neither case could the +buying of a hat from that individual be looked upon as an obligation +conferred or received by either party. This was quite clear, and Orsino +was satisfied. + +"Business is business," he said to himself, "and people who introduce +personal considerations into a financial transaction will get the worst +of the bargain." + +Andrea Contini was apparently of the same opinion, for when he entered +the room again at the end of an hour his excitement had quite +disappeared. + +"If we take another contract from the count," he said, "is there any +reason why we should not take a larger one, if it is to be had? We could +manage three or four buildings now that you have become such a good +bookkeeper." + +"I am quite of your opinion," Orsino answered, deciding at once to make +no reference to what had gone before. + +"The only question is, whether we have capital enough for a margin." + +"Leave that to me." + +Orsino determined to consult his mother, in whose judgment he felt a +confidence which he could not explain but which was not misplaced. The +fact was simple enough. Corona understood him thoroughly, though her +comprehension of his business was more than limited, and she did nothing +in reality but encourage his own sober opinion when it happened to be at +variance with some enthusiastic inclination which momentarily deluded +him. That quiet pushing of a man's own better reason against his half +considered but often headstrong impulses, is after all one of the best +and most loving services which a wise woman can render to a man whom she +loves, be he husband, son or brother. Many women have no other secret, +and indeed there are few more valuable ones, if well used and well kept. +But let not graceless man discover that it is used upon him. He will +resent being led by his own reason far more than being made the +senseless slave of a foolish woman's wildest caprice. To select the best +of himself for his own use is to trample upon his free will. To send him +barefoot to Jericho in search of a dried flower is to appeal to his +heart. Man is a reasoning animal. + +Corona, as was to be expected, was triumphant in Orsino's first success, +and spent as much time in talking over the past and the future with him +as she could command during his own hours of liberty. He needed no +urging to continue in the same course, but he enjoyed her happiness and +delighted in her encouragement. + +"Contini wishes to take a large contract," he said to her, after the +interview last described. "I agree with him, in a way. We could +certainly manage a larger business." + +"No doubt," Corona answered thoughtfully, for she saw that there was +some objection to the scheme in his own mind. + +"I have learned a great deal," he continued, "and we have much more +capital than we had. Besides, I suppose you would lend me a few +thousands if we needed them, would you not, mother?" + +"Certainly, my dear. You shall not be hampered by want of money." + +"And then, it is possible that we might make something like a fortune in +a short time. It would be a great satisfaction. But then, too--" He +stopped. + +"What then?" asked Corona, smiling. + +"Things may turn out differently. Though I have been successful this +time, I am much more inclined to believe that San Giacinto was right +than I was before I began. All this movement does not rest on a solid +basis." + +A financier of thirty years' standing could not have made the statement +more impressively, and Orsino was conscious that he was assuming an +elderly tone. He laughed the next moment. + +"That is a stock phrase, mother," he continued. "But it means something. +Everything is not what it should be. If the demand were as great as +people say it is, there would not be half a dozen houses--better houses +than ours--unsold in our street. That is why I am afraid of a big +contract. I might lose all my money and some of yours." + +"It would not be of much consequence if you did," answered Corona. "But +of course you will be guided by your own judgment, which, is much +better than mine. One must risk something, of course, but there is no +use in going into danger." + +"Nevertheless, I should enjoy a big venture immensely." + +"There is no reason why you should not try one, when the moment comes, +my dear. I suppose that a few months will decide whether there is to be +a crisis or not. In the meantime you might take something moderate, +neither so small as the last, nor so large as you would like. You will +get more experience, risk less and be better prepared for a crash if it +comes, or to take advantage of anything favourable if business grows +safer." + +Orsino was silent for a moment. + +"You are very wise, mother," he said. "I will take your advice." + +Corona had indeed acted as wisely as she could. The only flaw in her +reasoning was her assertion that a few months would decide the fate of +Roman affairs. If it were possible to predict a crisis even within a few +months, speculation would be a less precarious business than it is. + +Orsino and his mother might have talked longer and perhaps to better +purpose, but they were interrupted by the entrance of a servant, bearing +a note. Corona instinctively put out her hand to receive it. + +"For Don Orsino," said the man, stopping before him. + +Orsino took the letter, looked at it and turned it over. + +"I think it is from Madame d'Aranjuez," he remarked, without emotion. +"May I read it?" + +"There is no answer, Eccellenza," said the servant, whose curiosity was +satisfied. + +"Read it, of course," said Corona, looking at him. + +She was surprised that Madame d'Aranjuez should write to him, but she +was still more astonished to see the indifference with which he opened +the missive. She had imagined that he was more or less in love with +Maria Consuelo. + +"I fancy it is the other way," she thought. "The woman wants to marry +him. I might have suspected it." + +Orsino read the note, and tossed it into the fire without volunteering +any information. + +"I will take your advice, mother," he said, continuing the former +conversation, as though nothing had happened. + +But the subject seemed to be exhausted, and before long Orsino made an +excuse to his mother and went out. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +There was nothing in the note burnt by Orsino which he might not have +shown to his mother, since he had already told her the name of the +writer. It contained the simple statement that Maria Consuelo was about +to leave Rome, and expressed the hope that she might see Orsino before +her departure as she had a small request to make of him, in the nature +of a commission. She hoped he would forgive her for putting him to so +much inconvenience. + +Though he betrayed no emotion in reading the few lines, he was in +reality annoyed by them, and he wished that he might be prevented from +obeying the summons. Maria Consuelo had virtually dropped the +acquaintance, and had refused repeatedly and in a marked way to receive +him. And now, at the last moment, when she needed something of him, she +chose to recall him by a direct invitation. There was nothing to be done +but to yield, and it was characteristic of Orsino that, having submitted +to necessity, he did not put off the inevitable moment, but went to her +at once. + +The days were longer now than they had been during the time when he had +visited her every day, and the lamp was not yet on the table when Orsino +entered the small sitting-room. Maria Consuelo was standing by the +window, looking out into the street, and her right hand rested against +the pane while her fingers tapped it softly but impatiently. She turned +quickly as he entered, but the light was behind her and he could hardly +see her face. She came towards him and held out her hand. + +"It is very kind of you to have come so soon," she said, as she took her +old accustomed place by the table. + +Nothing was changed, excepting that the two or three new books at her +elbow were not the same ones which had been there two months earlier. In +one of them was thrust the silver paper-cutter with the jewelled handle, +which Orsino had never missed. He wondered whether there were any reason +for the unvarying sameness of these details. + +"Of course I came," he said. "And as there was time to-day, I came at +once." + +He spoke rather coldly, still resenting her former behaviour and +expecting that she would immediately say what she wanted of him. He +would promise to execute the commission, whatever it might be, and after +ten minutes of conversation he would take his leave. There was a short +pause, during which he looked at her. She did not seem well. Her face +was pale and her eyes were deep with shadows. Even her auburn hair had +lost something of its gloss. Yet she did not look older than before, a +fact which proved her to be even younger than Orsino had imagined. +Saving the look of fatigue and suffering in her face, Maria Consuelo had +changed less than Orsino during the winter, and she realised the fact at +a glance. A determined purpose, hard work, the constant exertion of +energy and will, and possibly, too, the giving up to a great extent of +gambling and strong drinks, had told in Orsino's face and manner as a +course of training tells upon a lazy athlete. The bold black eyes had a +more quiet glance, the well-marked features had acquired strength and +repose, the lean jaw was firmer and seemed more square. Even +physically, Orsino had improved, though the change was undefinable. +Young as he was, something of the power of mature manhood was already +coming over his youth. + +"You must have thought me very--rude," said Maria Consuelo, breaking the +silence and speaking with a slight hesitation which Orsino had never +noticed before. + +"It is not for me to complain, Madame," he answered. "You had every +right--" + +He stopped short, for he was reluctant to admit that she had been +justified in her behaviour towards him. + +"Thanks," she said, with an attempt to laugh. "It is pleasant to find +magnanimous people now and then. I do not want you to think that I was +capricious. That is all." + +"I certainly do not think that. You were most consistent. I called three +times and always got the same answer." + +He fancied that he heard her sigh, but she tried to laugh again. + +"I am not imaginative," she answered. "I daresay you found that out long +go. You have much more imagination than I." + +"It is possible, Madame--but you have not cared to develop it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"What does it matter? Do you remember what you said when I bade you +good-night at the window of your carriage after Del Ferice's dinner? You +said that you were not angry with me. I was foolish enough to imagine +that you were in earnest. I came again and again, but you would not see +me. You did not encourage my illusion." + +"Because I would not receive you? How do you know what happened to me? +How can you judge of my life? By your own? There is a vast difference." + +"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Orsino almost impatiently. "I know what you are +going to say. It will be flattering to me of course. The unattached +young man is dangerous to the reputation. The foreign lady is travelling +alone. There is the foundation of a vaudeville in that!" + +"If you must be unjust, at least do not be brutal," said Maria Consuelo +in a low voice, and she turned her face away from him. + +"I am evidently placed in the world to offend you, Madame. Will you +believe that I am sorry for it, though I only dimly comprehend my fault? +What did I say? That you were wise in breaking off my visits, because +you are alone here, and because I am young, unmarried and unfortunately +a little conspicuous in my native city. Is it brutal to suggest that a +young and beautiful woman has a right not to be compromised? Can we not +talk freely for half an hour, as we used to talk, and then say good-bye +and part good friends until you come to Rome again?" + +"I wish we could!" There was an accent of sincerity in the tone which +pleased Orsino. + +"Then begin by forgiving me all my sins, and put them down to ignorance, +want of tact, the inexperience of youth or a naturally weak +understanding. But do not call me brutal on such slight provocation." + +"We shall never agree for a long time," answered Maria Consuelo +thoughtfully. + +"Why not?" + +"Because, as I told you, there is too great a difference between our +lives. Do not answer me as you did before, for I am right. I began by +admitting that I was rude. If that is not enough I will say more--I will +even ask you to forgive me--can I do more?" + +She spoke so earnestly that Orsino was surprised and almost touched. Her +manner now was even less comprehensible than her repeated refusals to +see him had been. + +"You have done far too much already," he said gravely. "It is mine to +ask your forgiveness for much that I have done and said. I only wish +that I understood you better." + +"I am glad you do not," replied Maria Consuelo, with a sigh which this +time was not to be mistaken. "There is a sadness which it is better not +to understand," she added softly. + +"Unless one can help to drive it away." He, too, spoke gently, his voice +being attracted to the pitch and tone of hers. + +"You cannot do that--and if you could, you would not." + +"Who can tell?" + +The charm which he had formerly felt so keenly in her presence but which +he had of late so completely forgotten, was beginning to return and he +submitted to it with a sense of satisfaction which he had not +anticipated. Though the twilight was coming on, his eyes had become +accustomed to the dimness in the room and he saw every change in her +pale, expressive face. She leaned back in her chair with eyes half +closed. + +"I like to think that you would, if you knew how," she said presently. + +"Do you not know that I would?" + +She glanced quickly at him, and then, instead of answering, rose from +her seat and called to her maid through one of the doors, telling her to +bring the lamp. She sat down again, but being conscious that they were +liable to interruption, neither of the two spoke. Maria Consuelo's +fingers played with the silver knife, drawing it out of the book in +which it lay and pushing it back again. At last she took it up and +looked closely at the jewelled monogram on the handle. + +The maid entered, set the shaded lamp upon the table and glanced sharply +at Orsino. He could not help noticing the look. In a moment she was +gone, and the door closed behind her. Maria Consuelo looked over her +shoulder to see that it had not been left ajar. + +"She is a very extraordinary person, that elderly maid of mine," she +said. + +"So I should imagine from her face." + +"Yes. She looked at you as she passed and I saw that you noticed it. She +is my protector. I never have travelled without her and she watches over +me--as a cat watches a mouse." + +The little laugh that accompanied the words was not one of satisfaction, +and the shade of annoyance did not escape Orsino. + +"I suppose she is one of those people to whose ways one submits because +one cannot live without them," he observed. + +"Yes. That is it. That is exactly it," repeated Maria Consuelo. "And she +is very strongly attached to me," she added after an instant's +hesitation. "I do not think she will ever leave me. In fact we are +attached to each other." + +She laughed again as though amused by her own way of stating the +relation, and drew the paper-cutter through her hand two or three times. +Orsino's eyes were oddly fascinated by the flash of the jewels. + +"I would like to know the history of that knife," he said, almost +thoughtlessly. + +Maria Consuelo started and looked at him, paler even than before. The +question seemed to be a very unexpected one. + +"Why?" she asked quickly. + +"I always see it on the table or in your hand," answered Orsino. "It is +associated with you--I think of it when I think of you. I always fancy +that it has a story." + +"You are right. It was given to me by a person who loved me." + +"I see--I was indiscreet." + +"No--you do not see, my friend. If you did you--you would understand +many things, and perhaps it is better that you should not know them." + +"Your sadness? Should I understand that, too?" + +"No. Not that." + +A slight colour rose in her face, and she stretched out her hand to +arrange the shade of the lamp, with a gesture long familiar to him. + +"We shall end by misunderstanding each other," she continued in a harder +tone. "Perhaps it will be my fault. I wish you knew much more about me +than you do, but without the necessity of telling you the story. But +that is impossible. This paper-cutter--for instance, could tell the tale +better than I, for it made people see things which I did not see." + +"After it was yours?" + +"Yes. After it was mine." + +"It pleases you to be very mysterious," said Orsino with a smile. + +"Oh no! It does not please me at all," she answered, turning her face +away again. "And least of all with you--my friend." + +"Why least with me?" + +"Because you are the first to misunderstand. You cannot help it. I do +not blame you." + +"If you would let me be your friend, as you call me, it would be better +for us both." + +He spoke as he had assuredly not meant to speak when he had entered the +room, and with a feeling that surprised himself far more than his +hearer. Maria Consuelo turned sharply upon him. + +"Have you acted like a friend towards me?" she asked. + +"I have tried to," he answered, with more presence of mind than truth. + +Her tawny eyes suddenly lightened. + +"That is not true. Be truthful! How have you acted, how have you spoken +with me? Are you ashamed to answer?" + +Orsino raised his head rather haughtily, and met her glance, wondering +whether any man had ever been forced into such a strange position +before. But though her eyes were bright, their look was neither cold nor +defiant. + +"You know the answer," he said. "I spoke and acted as though I loved +you, Madame, but since you dismissed me so very summarily, I do not see +why you wish me to say so." + +"And you, Don Orsino, have you ever been loved--loved in earnest--by any +woman?" + +"That is a very strange question, Madame." + +"I am discreet. You may answer it safely." + +"I have no doubt of that." + +"But you will not? No--that is your right. But it would be kind of +you--I should be grateful if you would tell me--has any woman ever loved +you dearly?" + +Orsino laughed, almost in spite of himself. He had little false pride. + +"It is humiliating, Madame. But since you ask the question and require a +categorical answer, I will make my confession. I have never been loved. +But you will observe, as an extenuating circumstance, that I am young. I +do not give up all hope." + +"No--you need not," said Maria Consuelo in a low voice, and again she +moved the shade of the lamp. + +Though Orsino was by no means fatuous, he must have been blind if he had +not seen by this time that Madame d'Aranjuez was doing her best to make +him speak as he had formerly spoken to her, and to force him into a +declaration of love. He saw it, indeed, and wondered; but although he +felt her charm upon him, from time to time, he resolved that nothing +should induce him to relax even so far as he had done already more than +once during the interview. She had placed him in a foolish position once +before, and he would not expose himself to being made ridiculous again, +in her eyes or his. He could not discover what intention she had in +trying to lead him back to her, but he attributed it to her vanity. She +regretted, perhaps, having rebuked him so soon, or perhaps she had +imagined that he would have made further and more determined efforts to +see her. Possibly, too, she really wished to ask a service of him, and +wished to assure herself that she could depend upon him by previously +extracting an avowal of his devotion. It was clear that one of the two +had mistaken the other's character or mood, though it was impossible to +say which was the one deceived. + +The silence which followed lasted some time, and threatened to become +awkward. Maria Consuelo could not or would not speak and Orsino did not +know what to say. He thought of inquiring what the commission might be +with which, according to her note, she had wished to entrust him. But an +instant's reflection told him that the question would be tactless. If +she had invented the idea as an excuse for seeing him, to mention it +would be to force her hand, as card-players say, and he had no intention +of doing that. Even if she really had something to ask of him, he had no +right to change the subject so suddenly. He bethought him of a better +question. + +"You wrote me that you were going away," he said quietly. "But you will +come back next winter, will you not, Madame?" + +"I do not know," she answered, vaguely. Then she started a little, as +though understanding his words. "What am I saying!" she exclaimed. "Of +course I shall come back." + +"Have you been drinking from the Trevi fountain by moonlight, like those +mad English?" he asked, with a smile. + +"It is not necessary. I know that I shall come back--if I am alive." + +"How you say that! You are as strong as I--" + +"Stronger, perhaps. But then--who knows! The weak ones sometimes last +the longest." + +Orsino thought she was growing very sentimental, though as he looked at +her he was struck again by the look of suffering in her eyes. Whatever +weakness she felt was visible there, there was nothing in the full, firm +little hand, in the strong and easy pose of the head, in the softly +coloured ear half hidden by her hair, that could suggest a coming danger +to her splendid health. + +"Let us take it for granted that you will come back to us," said Orsino +cheerfully. + +"Very well, we will take it for granted. What then?" + +The question was so sudden and direct that Orsino fancied there ought to +be an evident answer to it. + +"What then?" he repeated, after a moment's hesitation. "I suppose you +will live in these same rooms again, and with your permission, a certain +Orsino Saracinesca will visit you from time to time, and be rude, and be +sent away into exile for his sins. And Madame d'Aranjuez will go a great +deal to Madame Del Ferice's and to other ultra-White houses, which will +prevent the said Orsino from meeting her in society. She will also be +more beautiful than ever, and the daily papers will describe a certain +number of gowns which she will bring with her from Paris, or Vienna, or +London, or whatever great capital is the chosen official residence of +her great dressmaker. And the world will not otherwise change very +materially in the course of eight months." + +Orsino laughed lightly, not at his own speech, which he had constructed +rather clumsily under the spur of necessity, but in the hope that she +would laugh, too, and begin to talk more carelessly. But Maria Consuelo +was evidently not inclined for anything but the most serious view of the +world, past, present and future. + +"Yes," she answered gravely. "I daresay you are right. One comes, one +shows one's clothes, and one goes away again--and that is all. It would +be very much the same if one did not come. It is a great mistake to +think oneself necessary to any one. Only things are necessary--food, +money and something to talk about." + +"You might add friends to the list," said Orsino, who was afraid of +being called brutal again if he did not make some mild remonstrance to +such a sweeping assertion. + +"Friends are included under the head of 'something to talk about,'" +answered Maria Consuelo. + +"That is an encouraging view." + +"Like all views one gets by experience." + +"You grow more and more bitter." + +"Does the world grow sweeter as one grows older?" + +"Neither you nor I have lived long enough to know," answered Orsino. + +"Facts make life long--not years." + +"So long as they leave no sign of age, what does it matter?" + +"I do not care for that sort of flattery." + +"Because it is not flattery at all. You know the truth too well. I am +not ingenious enough to flatter you, Madame. Perfection is not flattered +when it is called perfect." + +"It is at all events impossible to exaggerate better than you can," +answered Maria Consuelo, laughing at last at the overwhelming +compliment. "Where did you learn that?" + +"At your feet, Madame. The contemplation of great masterpieces enlarges +the intelligence and deepens the power of expression." + +"And I am a masterpiece--of what? Of art? Of caprice? Of consistency?" + +"Of nature," answered Orsino promptly. + +Again Maria Consuelo laughed a little, at the mere quickness of the +answer. Orsino was delighted with himself, for he fancied he was leading +her rapidly away from the dangerous ground upon which she had been +trying to force him. But her next words showed him that he had not yet +succeeded. + +"Who will make me laugh during all these months!" she exclaimed with a +little sadness. + +Orsino thought she was strangely obstinate, and wondered what she would +say next. + +"Dear me, Madame," he said, "if you are so kind as to laugh at my poor +wit, you will not have to seek far to find some one to amuse you +better!" + +He knew how to put on an expression of perfect simplicity when he +pleased, and Maria Consuelo looked at him, trying to be sure whether he +were in earnest or not. But his face baffled her. + +"You are too modest," she said. + +"Do you think it is a defect? Shall I cultivate a little more assurance +of manner?" he asked, very innocently. + +"Not to-day. Your first attempt might lead you into extremes." + +"There is not the slightest fear of that, Madame," he answered with some +emphasis. + +She coloured a little and her closed lips smiled in a way he had often +noticed before. He congratulated himself upon these signs of approaching +ill-temper, which promised an escape from his difficulty. To take leave +of her suddenly was to abandon the field, and that he would not do. She +had determined to force him into a confession of devotion, and he was +equally determined not to satisfy her. He had tried to lead her off her +track with frivolous talk and had failed. He would try and irritate her +instead, but without incurring the charge of rudeness. Why she was +making such an attack upon him, was beyond his understanding, but he +resented it, and made up his mind neither to fly nor yield. If he had +been a hundredth part as cynical as he liked to fancy himself, he would +have acted very differently. But he was young enough to have been +wounded by his former dismissal, though he hardly knew it, and to seek +almost instinctively to revenge his wrongs. He did not find it easy. He +would not have believed that such a woman as Maria Consuelo could so far +forget her pride as to go begging for a declaration of love. + +"I suppose you will take Gouache's portrait away with you," he observed, +changing the subject with a directness which he fancied would increase +her annoyance. + +"What makes you think so?" she asked, rather drily. + +"I thought it a natural question." + +"I cannot imagine what I should do with it. I shall leave it with him." + +"You will let him send it to the Salon in Paris, of course?" + +"If he likes. You seem interested in the fate of the picture." + +"A little. I wondered why you did not have it here, as it has been +finished so long." + +"Instead of that hideous mirror, you mean? There would be less variety. +I should always see myself in the same dress." + +"No--on the opposite wall. You might compare truth with fiction in that +way." + +"To the advantage of Gouache's fiction, you would say. You were more +complimentary a little while ago." + +"You imagine more rudeness than even I am capable of inventing." + +"That is saying much. Why did you change the subject just now?" + +"Because I saw that you were annoyed at something. Besides, we were +talking about myself, if I remember rightly." + +"Have you never heard that a man should always talk to a woman about +himself or herself?" + +"No. I never heard that. Shall we talk of you, then, Madame?" + +"Do you care to talk of me?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +Another direct attack, Orsino thought. + +"I would rather hear you talk of yourself," he answered without the +least hesitation. + +"If I were to tell you my thoughts about myself at the present moment, +they would surprise you very much." + +"Agreeably or disagreeably?" + +"I do not know. Are you vain?" + +"As a peacock!" replied Orsino quickly. + +"Ah--then what I am thinking would not interest you." + +"Why not?" + +"Because if it is not flattering it would wound you, and if it is +flattering it would disappoint you--by falling short of your ideal of +yourself." + +"Yet I confess that I would like to know what you think of me, though I +would much rather hear what you think of yourself." + +"On one condition, I will tell you." + +"What is that?" + +"That you will give me your word to give me your own opinion of me +afterwards." + +"The adjectives are ready, Madame, I give you my word." + +"You give it so easily! How can I believe you?" + +"It is so easy to give in such a case, when one has nothing disagreeable +to say." + +"Then you think me agreeable?" + +"Eminently!" + +"And charming?" + +"Perfectly!" + +"And beautiful?" + +"How can you doubt it?" + +"And in all other respects exactly like all the women in society to whom +you repeat the same commonplaces every day of your life?" + +The feint had been dexterous and the thrust was sudden, straight and +unexpected. + +"Madame!" exclaimed Orsino in the deprecatory tone of a man taken by +surprise. + +"You see--you have nothing to say!" She laughed a little bitterly. + +"You take too much for granted," he said, recovering himself. "You +suppose that because I agree with you upon one point after another, I +agree with you in the conclusion. You do not even wait to hear my +answer, and you tell me that I am checkmated when I have a dozen moves +from which to choose. Besides, you have directly infringed the +conditions. You have fired before the signal and an arbitration would go +against you. You have done fifty things contrary to agreement, and you +accuse me of being dumb in my own defence. There is not much justice in +that. You promise to tell me a certain secret on condition that I will +tell you another. Then, without saying a word on your own part you +stone me with quick questions and cry victory because I protest. You +begin before I have had so much as--" + +"For heaven's sake stop!" cried Maria Consuelo, interrupting a speech +which threatened to go on for twenty minutes. "You talk of chess, +duelling and stoning to death, in one sentence--I am utterly confused! +You upset all my ideas!" + +"Considering how you have disturbed mine, it is a fair revenge. And +since we both admit that we have disturbed that balance upon which alone +depends all possibility of conversation, I think that I can do nothing +more graceful--pardon me, nothing less ungraceful--than wish you a +pleasant journey, which I do with all my heart, Madame." + +Thereupon Orsino rose and took his hat. + +"Sit down. Do not go yet," said Maria Consuelo, growing a shade paler, +and speaking with an evident effort. + +"Ah--true!" exclaimed Orsino. "We were forgetting the little commission +you spoke of in your note. I am entirely at your service." + +Maria Consuelo looked at him quickly and her lips trembled. + +"Never mind that," she said unsteadily. "I will not trouble you. But I +do not want you to go away as--as you were going. I feel as though we +had been quarrelling. Perhaps we have. But let us say we are good +friends--if we only say it." + +Orsino was touched and disturbed. Her face was very white and her hand +trembled visibly as she held it out. He took it in his own without +hesitation. + +"If you care for my friendship, you shall have no better friend in the +world than I," he said, simply and naturally. + +"Thank you--good-bye. I shall leave to-morrow." + +The words were almost broken, as though she were losing control of her +voice. As he closed the door behind him, the sound of a wild and +passionate sob came to him through the panel. He stood still, listening +and hesitating. The truth which would have long been clear to an older +or a vainer man, flashed upon him suddenly. She loved him very much, and +he no longer cared for her. That was the reason why she had behaved so +strangely, throwing her pride and dignity to the winds in her desperate +attempt to get from him a single kind and affectionate word--from him, +who had poured into her ear so many words of love but two months +earlier, and from whom to draw a bare admission of friendship to-day she +had almost shed tears. + +To go back into the room would be madness; since he did not love her, it +would almost be an insult. He bent his head and walked slowly down the +corridor. He had not gone far, when he was confronted by a small dark +figure that stopped the way. He recognised Maria Consuelo's elderly +maid. + +"I beg your pardon, Signore Principe," said the little black-eyed woman. +"You will allow me to say a few words? I thank you, Eccellenza. It is +about my Signora, in there, of whom I have charge." + +"Of whom, you have charge?" repeated Orsino, not understanding her. + +"Yes--precisely. Of course, I am only her maid. You understand that. But +I have charge of her though she does not know it. The poor Signora has +had terrible trouble during the last few years, and at times--you +understand? She is a little--yes--here." She tapped her forehead. "She +is better now. But in my position I sometimes think it wiser to warn +some friend of hers--in strict confidence. It sometimes saves some +little unnecessary complication, and I was ordered to do so by the +doctors we last consulted in Paris. You will forgive me, Eccellenza, I +am sure." + +Orsino stared at the woman for some seconds in blank astonishment. She +smiled in a placid, self-confident way. + +"You mean that Madame d'Aranjuez is--mentally deranged, and that you are +her keeper? It is a little hard to believe, I confess." + +"Would you like to see my certificates, Signor Principe? Or the written +directions of the doctors? I am sure you are discreet." + +"I have no right to see anything of the kind," answered Orsino coldly. +"Of course, if you are acting under instructions it is no concern of +mine." + +He would have gone forward, but she suddenly produced a small bit of +note-paper, neatly folded, and offered it to him. + +"I thought you might like to know where we are until we return," she +said, continuing to speak in a very low voice. "It is the address." + +Orsino made an impatient gesture. He was on the point of refusing the +information which he had not taken the trouble to ask of Maria Consuelo +herself. But he changed his mind and felt in his pocket for something to +give the woman. It seemed the easiest and simplest way of getting rid of +her. The only note he had, chanced to be one of greater value than +necessary. + +"A thousand thanks, Eccellenza!" whispered the maid, overcome by what +she took for an intentional piece of generosity. + +Orsino left the hotel as quickly as he could. + +"For improbable situations, commend me to the nineteenth century and the +society in which we live!" he said to himself as he emerged into the +street. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +It was long before Orsino saw Maria Consuelo again, but the +circumstances of his last meeting with her constantly recurred to his +mind during the following months. It is one of the chief characteristics +of Rome that it seems to be one of the most central cities in Europe +during the winter, whereas in the summer months it appears to be +immensely remote from the rest of the civilised world. From having been +the prey of the inexpressible foreigner in his shooting season, it +suddenly becomes, and remains during about five months, the happy +hunting ground of the silent flea, the buzzing fly and the insinuating +mosquito. The streets are, indeed, still full of people, and long lines +of carriages may be seen towards sunset in the Villa Borghesa and in the +narrow Corso. Rome and the Romans are not easily parted as London and +London society, for instance. May comes--the queen of the months in the +south. June follows. Southern blood rejoices in the first strong +sunshine. July trudges in at the gates, sweating under the cloudless +sky, heavy, slow of foot, oppressed by the breath of the coming +dog-star. Still the nights are cool. Still, towards sunset, the +refreshing breeze sweeps up from the sea and fills the streets. Then +behind closely fastened blinds, the glass windows are opened and the +weary hand drops the fan at last. Then men and women array themselves in +the garments of civilisation and sally forth, in carriages, on foot, and +in trams, according to the degrees of social importance which provide +that in old countries the middle term shall be made to suffer for the +priceless treasure of a respectability which is a little higher than the +tram and financially not quite equal to the cab. Then, at that magic +touch of the west wind the house-fly retires to his own peculiar +Inferno, wherever that may be, the mosquito and the gnat pause in their +work of darkness and blood to concert fresh and more bloodthirsty deeds, +and even the joyous and wicked flea tires of the war dance and lays down +his weary head to snatch a hard-earned nap. July drags on, and terrible +August treads the burning streets bleaching the very dust up on the +pavement, scourging the broad campagna with fiery lashes of heat. Then +the white-hot sky reddens in the evening when it cools, as the white +iron does when it is taken from the forge. Then at last, all those who +can escape from the condemned city flee for their lives to the hills, +while those who must face the torment of the sun and the poison of the +air turn pale in their sufferings, feebly curse their fate and then grow +listless, weak and irresponsible as over-driven galley slaves, +indifferent to everything, work, rest, blows, food, sleep and the hope +of release. The sky darkens suddenly. There is a sort of horror in the +stifling air. People do not talk much, and if they do are apt to quarrel +and sometimes to kill one another without warning. The plash of the +fountains has a dull sound like the pouring out of molten lead. The +horses' hoofs strike visible sparks out of the grey stones in broad +daylight. Many houses are shut, and one fancies that there must be a +dead man in each whom no one will bury. A few great drops of rain make +ink-stains on the pavement at noon, and there is an exasperating, +half-sulphurous smell abroad. Late in the afternoon they fall again. An +evil wind comes in hot blasts from all quarters at once--then a low roar +like an earthquake and presently a crash that jars upon the overwrought +nerves--great and plashing drops again, a sharp short flash--then crash +upon crash, deluge upon deluge, and the worst is over. Summer has +received its first mortal wound. But its death is more fatal than its +life. The noontide heat is fierce and drinks up the moisture of the rain +and the fetid dust with it. The fever-wraith rises in the damp, cool +night, far out in the campagna, and steals up to the walls of the city, +and over them and under them and into the houses. If there are any yet +left in Rome who can by any possibility take themselves out of it, they +are not long in going. Till that moment, there has been only suffering +to be borne; now, there is danger of something worse. Now, indeed, the +city becomes a desert inhabited by white-faced ghosts. Now, if it be a +year of cholera, the dead carts rattle through the streets all night on +their way to the gate of Saint Lawrence, and the workmen count their +numbers when they meet at dawn. But the bad days are not many, if only +there be rain enough, for a little is worse than none. The nights +lengthen and the September gales sweep away the poison-mists with kindly +strength. Body and soul revive, as the ripe grapes appear in their +vine-covered baskets at the street corners. Rich October is coming, the +month in which the small citizens of Rome take their wives and the +children to the near towns, to Marino, to Froscati, to Albano and +Aricia, to eat late fruits and drink new must, with songs and laughter, +and small miseries and great delights such as are remembered a whole +year. The first clear breeze out of the north shakes down the dying +leaves and brightens the blue air. The brown campagna turns green again, +and the heart of the poor lame cab-horse is lifted up. The huge porter +of the palace lays aside his linen coat and his pipe, and opens wide the +great gates; for the masters are coming back, from their castles and +country places, from the sea and from the mountains, from north and +south, from the magic shore of Sorrento, and from distant French bathing +places, some with brides or husbands, some with rosy Roman babies making +their first trumphal entrance into Rome--and some, again, returning +companionless to the home they had left in companionship. The great and +complicated machinery of social life is set in order and repaired for +the winter; the lost or damaged pieces in the engine are carefully +replaced with new ones which will do as well or better, the joints and +bearings are lubricated, the whistle of the first invitation is heard, +there is some puffing and a little creaking at first, and then the big +wheels begin to go slowly round, solemnly and regularly as ever, while +all the little wheels run as fast as they can and set fire to their +axles in the attempt to keep up the speed, and are finally jammed and +caught up and smashed, as little wheels are sure to be when they try to +act like big ones. But unless something happens to one of the very +biggest the machine does not stop until the end of the season, when it +is taken to pieces again for repairs. + +That is the brief history of a Roman year, of which the main points are +very much like those of its predecessor and successor. The framework is +the same, but the decorations change, slowly, surely and not, perhaps, +advantageously, as the younger generation crowds into the place of the +older--as young acquaintances take the place of old friends, as faces +strange to us hide faces we have loved. + +Orsino Saracinesca, in his new character as a contractor and a man of +business, knew that he must either spend the greater part of the summer +in town, or leave his affairs in the hands of Andrea Contini. The latter +course was repugnant to him, partly because he still felt a beginner's +interest in his first success, and partly because he had a shrewd +suspicion that Contini, if left to himself in the hot weather, might be +tempted to devote more time to music than to architecture. The business, +too, was now on a much larger scale than before, though Orsino had taken +his mother's advice in not at once going so far as he might have gone. +It needed all his own restless energy, all Contini's practical talents, +and perhaps more of Del Ferice's influence than either of them +suspected, to keep it going on the road to success. + +In July Orsino's people made ready to go up to Saracinesca. The old +prince, to every one's surprise, declared his intention of going to +England, and roughly refused to be accompanied by any one of the family. +He wanted to find out some old friends, he said, and desired the +satisfaction of spending a couple of months in peace, which was quite +impossible at home, owing to Giovanni's outrageous temper and Orsino's +craze for business. He thereupon embraced them all affectionately, +indulged in a hearty laugh and departed in a special carriage with his +own servants. + +Giovanni objected to Orsino's staying in Rome during the great heat. +Though Orsino had not as yet entered into any explanation with his +father, but the latter understood well enough that the business had +turned out better than had been expected and began to feel an interest +in its further success, for his son's sake. He saw the boy developing +into a man by a process which he would naturally have supposed to be the +worst possible one, judging from his own point of view. But he could not +find fault with the result. There was no disputing the mental +superiority of the Orsino of July over the Orsino of the preceding +January. Whatever the sensation which Giovanni experienced as he +contemplated the growing change, it was not one of anxiety nor of +disappointment. But he had a Roman's well-founded prejudice against +spending August and September in town. His objections gave rise to some +discussion, in which Corona joined. + +Orsino enlarged upon the necessity of attending in person to the +execution of his contracts. Giovanni suggested that he should find some +trustworthy person to take his place. Corona was in favour of a +compromise. It would be easy, she said, for Orsino to spend two or three +days of every week in Rome and the remainder in the country with his +father and mother. They were all three quite right according to their +own views, and they all three knew it. Moreover they were all three very +obstinate people. The consequence was that Orsino, who was in +possession, so to say, since the other two were trying to make him +change his mind, got the best of the argument, and won his first pitched +battle. Not that there was any apparent hostility, or that any of the +three spoke hotly or loudly. They were none of them like old +Saracinesca, whose feats of argumentation were vehement, eccentric and +fiery as his own nature. They talked with apparent calm through a long +summer's afternoon, and the vanquished retired with a fairly good grace, +leaving Orsino master of the field. But on that occasion Giovanni +Saracinesca first formed the opinion that his son was a match for him, +and that it would be wise in future to ascertain the chances of success +before incurring the risk of a humiliating defeat. + +Giovanni and his wife went out together and talked over the matter as +their carriage swept round the great avenues of Villa Borghesa. + +"There is no question of the fact that Orsino is growing up--is grown up +already," said Sant' Ilario, glancing at Corona's calm, dark face. + +She smiled with a certain pride, as she heard the words. + +"Yes," she answered, "he is a man. It is a mistake to treat him as a boy +any longer." + +"Do you think it is this sudden interest in business that has changed +him so?" + +"Of course--what else?" + +"Madame d'Aranjuez, for instance," Giovanni suggested. + +"I do not believe she ever had the least influence over him. The +flirtation seems to have died a natural death. I confess, I hoped it +might end in that way, and I am glad if it has. And I am very glad that +Orsino is succeeding so well. Do you know, dear? I am glad, because you +did not believe it possible that he should." + +"No, I did not. And now that I begin to understand it, he does not like +to talk to me about his affairs. I suppose that is only natural. Tell +me--has he really made money? Or have you been giving him money to lose, +in order that he may buy experience." + +"He has succeeded alone," said Corona proudly. "I would give him +whatever he needed, but he needs nothing. He is immensely clever and +immensely energetic. How could he fail?" + +"You seem to admire our firstborn, my dear," observed Giovanni with a +smile. + +"To tell the truth, I do. I have no doubt that he does all sorts of +things which he ought not to do, and of which I know nothing. You did +the same at his age, and I shall be quite satisfied if he turns out like +you. I would not like to have a lady-like son with white hands and +delicate sensibilities, and hypocritical affectations of exaggerated +morality. I think I should be capable of trying to make such a boy bad, +if it only made him manly--though I daresay that would be very wrong." + +"No doubt," said Giovanni. "But we shall not be placed in any such +position by Orsino, my dear. You remember that little affair last year, +in England? It was very nearly a scandal. But then--the English are +easily led into temptation and very easily scandalised afterwards. +Orsino will not err in the direction of hypocritical morality. But that +is not the question. I wish to know, from you since he does not confide +in me, how far he is really succeeding." + +Corona gave her husband a remarkably clear statement of Orsino's +affairs, without exaggeration so far as the facts were concerned, but +not without highly favourable comment. She did not attempt to conceal +her triumph, now that success had been in a measure attained, and she +did not hesitate to tell Giovanni that he ought to have encouraged and +supported the boy from the first. + +Giovanni listened with very great interest, and bore her affectionate +reproaches with equanimity. He felt in his heart that he had done right, +and he somehow still believed that things were not in reality all that +they seemed to be. There was something in Orsino's immediate success +against odds apparently heavy, which disturbed his judgment. He had not, +it was true, any personal experience of the building speculations in the +city, nor of financial transactions in general, as at present +understood, and he had recently heard of cases in which individuals had +succeeded beyond their own wildest expectations. There was, perhaps, no +reason why Orsino should not do as well as other people, or even better, +in spite of his extreme youth. Andrea Contini was probably a man of +superior talent, well able to have directed the whole affair alone, if +other circumstances had been favourable to him, and there was on the +whole nothing to prove that the two young men had received more than +their fair share of assistance or accommodation from the bank. But +Giovanni knew well enough that Del Ferice was the most influential +personage in the bank in question, and the mere suggestion of his name +lent to the whole affair a suspicious quality which disturbed Orsino's +father. In spite of all reasonable reflexions there was an air of +unnatural good fortune in the case which he did not like, and he had +enough experience of Del Ferice's tortuous character to distrust his +intentions. He would have preferred to see his son lose money through +Ugo rather than that Orsino should owe the latter the smallest thanks. +The fact that he had not spoken with the man for over twenty years did +not increase the confidence he felt in him. In that time Del Ferice had +developed into a very important personage, having much greater power to +do harm than he had possessed in former days, and it was not to be +supposed that he had forgotten old wounds or given up all hope of +avenging them. Del Ferice was not very subject to that sort of +forgetfulness. + +When Corona had finished speaking, Giovanni was silent for a few +moments. + +"Is it not splendid?" Corona asked enthusiastically. "Why do you not say +anything? One would think that you were not pleased." + +"On the contrary, as far as Orsino is concerned, I am delighted. But I +do not trust Del Ferice." + +"Del Ferice is far too clever a man to ruin Orsino," answered Corona. + +"Exactly. That is the trouble. That is what makes me feel that though +Orsino has worked hard and shown extraordinary intelligence--and +deserves credit for that--yet he would not have succeeded in the same +way if he had dealt with any other bank. Del Ferice has helped him. +Possibly Orsino knows that, as well as we do, but he certainly does not +know what part Del Ferice played in our lives, Corona. If he did, he +would not accept his help." + +In her turn Corona was silent and a look of disappointment came into her +face. She remembered a certain afternoon in the mountains when she had +entreated Giovanni to let Del Ferice escape, and Giovanni had yielded +reluctantly and had given the fugitive a guide to take him to the +frontier. She wondered whether the generous impulse of that day was to +bear evil fruit at last. + +"Orsino knows nothing about it at all," she said at last. "We kept the +secret of Del Ferice's escape very carefully--for there were good +reasons to be careful in those days. Orsino only knows that you once +fought a duel with the man and wounded him." + +"I think it is time that he knew more." + +"Of what use can it be to tell him those old stories?" asked Corona. +"And after all, I do not believe that Del Ferice has done so much. If +you could have followed Orsino's work, day by day and week by week, as I +have, you would see how much is really due to his energy. Any other +banker would have done as much as he. Besides, it is in Del Ferice's own +interest--" + +"That is the trouble," interrupted Giovanni. "It is bad enough that he +should help Orsino. It is much worse that he should help him in order to +make use of him. If, as you say, any other bank would do as much, then +let him go to another bank. If he owes Del Ferice money at the present +moment, we will pay it for him." + +"You forget that he has bought the buildings he is now finishing, from +Del Ferice, on a mortgage." + +Giovanni laughed a little. + +"How you have learned to talk about mortgages and deeds and all sorts of +business!" he exclaimed. "But what you say is not an objection. We can +pay off these mortgages, I suppose, and take the risk ourselves." + +"Of course we could do that," Corona answered, thoughtfully. "But I +really think you exaggerate the whole affair. For the time being, Del +Ferice is not a man, but a banker. His personal character and former +doings do not enter into the matter." + +"I think they do," said Giovanni, still unconvinced. + +"At all events, do not make trouble now, dear," said Corona in earnest +tones. "Let the present contract be executed and finished, and then +speak to Orsino before he makes another. Whatever Del Ferice may have +done, you can see for yourself that Orsino is developing in a way we had +not expected, and is becoming a serious, energetic man. Do not step in +now, and check the growth of what is good. You will regret it as much as +I shall. When he has finished these buildings he will have enough +experience to make a new departure." + +"I hate the idea of receiving a favour from Del Ferice, or of laying him +under an obligation. I think I will go to him myself." + +"To Del Ferice?" Corona started and looked round at Giovanni as she sat. +She had a sudden vision of new trouble. + +"Yes. Why not? I will go to him and tell him that I would rather wind up +my son's business with him, as our former relations were not of a nature +to make transactions of mutual profit either fitting or even permissible +between any of our family and Ugo Del Ferice." + +"For Heaven's sake, Giovanni, do not do that." + +"And why not?" He was surprised at her evident distress. + +"For my sake, then--do not quarrel with Del Ferice--it was different +then, in the old days. I could not bear it now--" she stopped, and her +lower lip trembled a little. + +"Do you love me better than you did then, Corona?" + +"So much better--I cannot tell you." + +She touched his hand with hers and her dark eyes were a little veiled as +they met his. Both were silent for a moment. + +"I have no intention of quarrelling with Del Ferice, dear," said +Giovanni, gently. + +His face had grown a shade paler as she spoke. The power of her hand and +voice to move him, had not diminished in all the years of peaceful +happiness that had passed so quickly. + +"I do not mean any such thing," he said again. "But I mean this. I will +not have it said that Del Ferice has made a fortune for Orsino, nor +that Orsino has helped Del Ferice's interests. I see no way but to +interfere myself. I can do it without the suspicion of a quarrel." + +"It will be a great mistake, Giovanni. Wait till there is a new +contract." + +"I will think of it, before doing anything definite." + +Corona well knew that she should get no greater concession than this. +The point of honour had been touched in Giovanni's sensibilities and his +character was stubborn and determined where his old prejudices were +concerned. She loved him very dearly, and this very obstinacy of his +pleased her. But she fancied that trouble of some sort was imminent. She +understood her son's nature, too, and dreaded lest he should be forced +into opposing his father. + +It struck her that she might herself act as intermediary. She could +certainly obtain concessions from Orsino which Giovanni could not hope +to extract by force or stratagem. But the wisdom of her own proposal in +the matter seemed unassailable. The business now in hand should be +allowed to run its natural course before anything was done to break off +the relations between Orsino and Del Ferice. + +In the evening she found an opportunity of speaking with Orsino in +private. She repeated to him the details of her conversation with +Giovanni during the drive in the afternoon. + +"My dear mother," answered Orsino, "I do not trust Del Ferice any more +than you and my father trust him. You talk of things which he did years +ago, but you do not tell me what those things were. So far as I +understand, it all happened before you were married. My father and he +quarrelled about something, and I suppose there was a lady concerned in +the matter. Unless you were the lady in question, and unless what he did +was in the nature of an insult to you, I cannot see how the matter +concerns me. They fought and it ended there, as affairs of honour do. If +it touched you, then tell me so, and I will break with Del Ferice +to-morrow morning." + +Corona was silent, for Orsino's speech was very plain, and if she +answered it all, the answer must be the truth. There could be no escape +from that. And the truth would be very hard to tell. At that time she +had been still the wife of old Astrardente, and Del Ferice's offence had +been that he had purposely concealed himself in the conservatory of the +Frangipan's palace in order to overhear what Giovanni Saracinesca was +about to say to another man's wife. The fact that on that memorable +night she had bravely resisted a very great temptation did not affect +the difficulty of the present case in any way. She asked herself rather +whether Del Ferice's eavesdropping would appear to Orsino to be in the +nature of an insult to her, to use his own words, and she had no doubt +but that it would seem so. At the same time she would find hard to +explain to her son why Del Ferice suspected that there was to be +anything said to her worth overhearing, seeing that she bore at that +time the name of another man then still living. How could Orsino +understand all that had gone before? Even now, though she knew that she +had acted well, she humbly believed that she might have done much +better. How would her son judge her? She was silent, waiting for him to +speak again. + +"That would be the only conceivable reason for my breaking with Del +Ferice," said Orsino. "We only have business relations, and I do not go +to his house. I went once. I saw no reason for telling you so at the +time, and I have not been there again. It was at the beginning of the +whole affair. Outside of the bank, we are the merest acquaintances. But +I repeat what I said. If he ever did anything which makes it +dishonourable for me to accept even ordinary business services from him, +let me know it. I have some right to hear the truth." + +Corona hesitated, and laid the case again before her own conscience, and +tried to imagine herself in her son's position. It was hard to reach a +conclusion. There was no doubt but that when she had learned the truth, +long after the event, she had felt that she had been insulted and justly +avenged. If she said nothing now, Orsino would suspect something and +would assuredly go to his father, from whom he would get a view of the +case not conspicuous for its moderation. And Giovanni would undoubtedly +tell his son the details of what had followed, how Del Ferice had +attempted to hinder the marriage when it was at last possible, and all +the rest of the story. At the same time, she felt that so far as her +personal sensibilities were concerned, she had not the least objection +to the continuance of a mere business relation between Orsino and Del +Ferice. She was more forgiving than Giovanni. + +"I will tell you this much, my dear boy," she said, at last. "That old +quarrel did concern me and no one else. Your father feels more strongly +about it than I do, because he fought for me and not for himself. You +trust me, Orsino. You know that I would rather see you dead than doing +anything dishonourable. Very well. Do not ask any more questions, and do +not go to your father about it. Del Ferice has only advanced you money, +in a business way, on good security and at a high interest. So far as I +can judge of the point of honour involved, what happened long ago need +not prevent your doing what you are doing now. Possibly, when you have +finished the present contract, you may think it wiser to apply to some +other bank, or to work on your own account with my money." + +Corona believed that she had found the best way out of the difficulty, +and Orsino seemed satisfied, for he nodded thoughtfully and said +nothing. The day had been filled with argument and discussion about his +determination to stay in town, and he was weary of the perpetual +question and answer. He knew his mother well, and was willing to take +her advice for the present. She, on her part, told Giovanni what she had +done, and he consented to consider the matter a little longer before +interfering. He disliked even the idea of a business relation extremely, +but he feared that there was more behind the appearances of commercial +fairness than either he or Orsino himself could understand. The better +Orsino succeeded, the less his father was pleased, and his suspicions +were not unfounded. He knew from San Giacinto that success was becoming +uncommon, and he knew that all Orsino's industry and energy could not +have sufficed to counterbalance his inexperience. Andrea Contini, too, +had been recommended by Del Ferice, and was presumably Del Ferice's man. + +On the following day Giovanni and Corona with the three younger boys +went up to Saracinesca leaving Orsino alone in the great palace, to his +own considerable satisfaction. He was well pleased with himself and +especially at having carried his point. At his age, and with his +constitution, the heat was a matter of supreme indifference to him, and +he looked forward with delight to a summer of uninterrupted work in the +not uncongenial society of Andrea Contini. As for the work itself, it +was beginning to have a sort of fascination for him as he understood it +better. The love of building, the passion for stone and brick and +mortar, is inherent in some natures, and is capable of growing into a +mania little short of actual insanity. Orsino began to ask himself +seriously whether it were too late to study architecture as a profession +and in the meanwhile he learned more of it in practice from Contini than +he could have acquired in twice the time at any polytechnic school in +Europe. + +He liked Contini himself more and more as the days went by. Hitherto he +had been much inclined to judge his own countrymen from his own class. +He was beginning to see that he had understood little or nothing of the +real Italian nature when uninfluenced by foreign blood. The study +interested and pleased him. Only one unpleasant memory occasionally +disturbed his peace of mind. When he thought of his last meeting with +Maria Consuelo he hated himself for the part he had played, though he +was quite unable to account logically, upon his assumed principles, for +the severity of his self-condemnation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Orsino necessarily led a monotonous life, though, his occupation was an +absorbing one. Very early in the morning he was with Contini where the +building was going on. He then passed the hot hours of the day in the +office, which, as before, had been established in one of the unfinished +houses. Towards evening, he went down into the city to his home, +refreshed himself after his long day's work, and then walked or drove +until half past eight, when he went to dinner in the garden of a great +restaurant in the Corso. Here he met a few acquaintances who, like +himself, had reasons for staying in town after their families had left. +He always sat at the same small table, at which there was barely room +for two persons, for he preferred to be alone, and he rarely asked a +passing friend to sit down with him. + +On a certain hot evening in the beginning of August he had just taken +his seat, and was trying to make up his mind whether he were hungry +enough to eat anything or whether it would not be less trouble to drink +a glass of iced coffee and go away, when he was aware of a lank shadow +cast across the white cloth by the glaring electric light. He looked up +and saw Spicca standing there, apparently uncertain where to sit down +for the place was fuller than usual. He liked the melancholy old man and +spoke to him, offering to share his table. + +Spicca hesitated a moment and then accepted the invitation. He deposited +his hat upon a chair beside him and leaned back, evidently exhausted +either in mind or body, if not in both. + +"I am very much obliged to you, my dear Orsino," he said. "There is an +abominable crowd here, which means an unusual number of people to +avoid--just as many as I know, in fact, excepting yourself." + +"I am glad you do not wish to avoid me, too," observed Orsino, by way of +saying something. + +"You are a less evil--so I choose you in preference to the greater," +Spicca answered. But there was a not unkindly look in his sunken eyes as +he spoke. + +He tipped the great flask of Chianti that hung in its swinging plated +cradle in the middle of the table, and filled two glasses. + +"Since all that is good has been abolished, let us drink to the least of +evils," he said, "in other words, to each other." + +"To the absence of friends," answered Orsino, touching the wine with his +lips. + +Spicca emptied his glass slowly and then looked at him. + +"I like that toast," he said. "To the absence of friends. I daresay you +have heard of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Do they still teach +the dear old tale in these modern schools? No. But you have heard +it--very well. You will remember that if they had not allowed the +serpent to scrape acquaintance with them, on pretence of a friendly +interest in their intellectual development, Adam and Eve would still be +inventing names for the angelic little wild beasts who were too +well-behaved to eat them. They would still be in paradise. Moreover +Orsino Saracinesca and John Nepomucene Spicca would not be in daily +danger of poisoning in this vile cookshop. Summary ejection from Eden +was the first consequence of friendship, and its results are similar to +this day. What nauseous mess are we to swallow to-night? Have you looked +at the card?" + +Orsino laughed a little. He foresaw that Spicca would not be dull +company on this particular evening. Something unusually disagreeable had +probably happened to him during the day. After long and melancholy +hesitation he ordered something which he believed he could eat, and +Orsino followed his example. + +"Are all your people out of town?" Spicca asked, after a pause. + +"Yes. I am alone." + +"And what in the world is the attraction here? Why do you stay? I do not +wish to be indiscreet, and I was never afflicted with curiosity. But +cases of mental alienation grow more common every day, and as an old +friend of your father's I cannot overlook symptoms of madness in you. A +really sane person avoids Rome in August." + +"It strikes me that I might say the same to you," answered Orsino. "I am +kept here by business. You have not even that excuse." + +"How do you know?" asked Spicca, sharply. "Business has two main +elements--credit and debit. The one means the absence of the other. I +leave it to your lively intelligence to decide which of the two means +Rome in August, and which means Trouville or St. Moritz." + +"I had not thought of it in that light." + +"No? I daresay not. I constantly think of it." + +"There are other places, nearer than St. Moritz," suggested Orsino. "Why +not go to Sorrento?" + +"There was such a place once--but my friends have found it out. +Nevertheless, I might go there. It is better to suffer friendship in the +spirit than fever in the body. But I have a reason for staying here just +at present--a very good one." + +"Without indiscretion--?" + +"No, certainly not without considerable indiscretion. Take some more +wine. When intoxication is bliss it is folly to be sober, as the proverb +says. I cannot get tipsy, but you may, and that will be almost as +amusing. The main object of drinking wine is that one person should make +confidences for the other to laugh at--the one enjoys it quite as much +as the other." + +"I would rather be the other," said Orsino with a laugh. + +"In all cases in life it is better to be the other person," observed +Spicca, thoughtfully, though the remark lacked precision. + +"You mean the patient and not the agent, I suppose?" + +"No. I mean the spectator. The spectator is a well fed, indifferent +personage who laughs at the play and goes home to supper--perdition upon +him and his kind! He is the abomination of desolation in a front stall, +looking on while better men cut one another's throats. He is a fat man +with a pink complexion and small eyes, and when he has watched other +people's troubles long enough, he retires to his comfortable vault in +the family chapel in the Campo Varano, which is decorated with coloured +tiles, embellished with a modern altar piece and adorned with a bust of +himself by a good sculptor. Even in death, he is still the spectator, +grinning through the window of his sanctuary at the rows of nameless +graves outside. He is happy and self-satisfied still--even in marble. It +is worth living to be such a man." + +"It is not an exciting life," remarked Orsino. + +"No. That is the beauty of it. Look at me. I have never succeeded in +imitating that well-to-do, thoroughly worthy villain. I began too late. +Take warning, Orsino. You are young. Grow fat and look on--then you will +die happy. All the philosophy of life is there. Farinaceous food, money +and a wife. That is the recipe. Since you have money you can purchase +the gruel and the affections. Waste no time in making the investment." + +"I never heard you advocate marriage before. You seem to have changed +your mind, of late." + +"Not in the least. I distinguish between being married and taking a +wife, that is all." + +"Rather a fine distinction." + +"The only difference between a prisoner and his gaoler is that they are +on opposite sides of the same wall. Take some more wine. We will drink +to the man on the outside." + +"May you never be inside," said Orsino. + +Spicca emptied his glass and looked at him, as he set it down again. + +"May you never know what it is to have been inside," he said. + +"You speak as though you had some experience." + +"Yes, I have--through an acquaintance of mine." + +"That is the most agreeable way of gaining experience." + +"Yes," answered Spicca with a ghastly smile. "Perhaps I may tell you the +story some day. You may profit by it. It ended rather dramatically--so +far as it can be said to have ended at all. But we will not speak of it +just now. Here is another dish of poison--do you call that thing a fish, +Checco? Ah--yes. I perceive that you are right. The fact is apparent at +a great distance. Take it away. We are all mortal, Checco, but we do not +like to be reminded of it so very forcibly. Give me a tomato and some +vinegar." + +"And the birds, Signore? Do you not want them any more?" + +"The birds--yes, I had forgotten. And another flask of wine, Checco." + +"It is not empty yet, Signore," observed the waiter lifting the +rush-covered bottle and shaking it a little. + +Spicca silently poured out two glasses and handed him the empty flask. +He seemed to be very thirsty. Presently he got his birds. They proved +eatable, for quails are to be had all through the summer in Italy, and +he began to eat in silence. Orsino watched him with some curiosity +wondering whether the quantity of wine he drank would not ultimately +produce some effect. As yet, however, none was visible; his cadaverous +face was as pale and quiet as ever, and his sunken eyes had their usual +expression. + +"And how does your business go on, Orsino?" he asked, after a long +silence. + +Orsino answered him willingly enough and gave him some account of his +doings. He grew somewhat enthusiastic as he compared his present busy +life with his former idleness. + +"I like the way you did it, in spite of everybody's advice," said +Spicca, kindly. "A man who can jump through the paper ring of Roman +prejudice without stumbling must be nimble and have good legs. So +nobody gave you a word of encouragement?" + +"Only one person, at first. I think you know her--Madame d'Aranjuez. I +used to see her often just at that time." + +"Madame d'Aranjuez?" Spicca looked up sharply, pausing with his glass in +his hand. + +"You know her?" + +"Very well indeed," answered the old man, before he drank. "Tell me, +Orsino," he continued, when he had finished the draught, "are you in +love with that lady?" + +Orsino was surprised by the directness of the question, but he did not +show it. + +"Not in the least," he answered, coolly. + +"Then why did you act as though you were?" asked Spicca looking him +through and through. + +"Do you mean to say that you were watching me all winter?" inquired +Orsino, bending his black eyebrows rather angrily. + +"Circumstances made it inevitable that I should know of your visits. +There was a time when you saw her every day." + +"I do not know what the circumstances, as you call them, were," answered +Orsino. "But I do not like to be watched--even by my father's old +friends." + +"Keep your temper, Orsino," said Spicca quietly. "Quarrelling is always +ridiculous unless somebody is killed, and then it is inconvenient. If +you understood the nature of my acquaintance with Maria Consuelo--with +Madame d'Aranjuez, you would see that while not meaning to spy upon you +in the least, I could not be ignorant of your movements." + +"Your acquaintance must be a very close one," observed Orsino, far from +pacified. + +"So close that it has justified me in doing very odd things on her +account. You will not accuse me of taking a needless and officious +interest in the affairs of others, I think. My own are quite enough for +me. It chances that they are intimately connected with the doings of +Madame d'Aranjuez, and have been so for a number of years. The fact that +I do not desire the connexion to be known does not make it easier for me +to act, when I am obliged to act at all. I did not ask an idle question +when I asked you if you loved her." + +"I confess that I do not at all understand the situation," said Orsino. + +"No. It is not easy to understand, unless I give you the key to it. And +yet you know more already than any one in Rome. I shall be obliged if +you will not repeat what you know." + +"You may trust me," answered Orsino, who saw from Spicca's manner that +the matter was very serious. + +"Thank you. I see that you are cured of the idea that I have been +frivolously spying upon you for my own amusement." + +Orsino was silent. He thought of what had happened after he had taken +leave of Maria Consuelo. The mysterious maid who called herself Maria +Consuelo's nurse, or keeper, had perhaps spoken the truth. It was +possible that Spicca was one of the guardians responsible to an unknown +person for the insane lady's safety, and that he was consequently daily +informed by the maid of the coming and going of visitors, and of other +minor events. On the other hand it seemed odd that Maria Consuelo should +be at liberty to go whithersoever she pleased. She could not reasonably +be supposed to have a guardian in every city of Europe. The more he +thought of this improbability the less he understood the truth. + +"I suppose I cannot hope that you will tell me more," he said. + +"I do not see why I should," answered Spicca, drinking again. "I asked +you an indiscreet question and I have given you an explanation which you +are kind enough to accept. Let us say no more about it. It is better to +avoid unpleasant subjects." + +"I should not call Madame d'Aranjuez an unpleasant subject," observed +Orsino. + +"Then why did you suddenly cease to visit her?" asked Spicca. + +"For the best of all reasons. Because she repeatedly refused to receive +me." He was less inclined to take offence now than five minutes earlier. +"I see that your information was not complete." + +"No. I was not aware of that. She must have had a good reason for not +seeing you." + +"Possibly." + +"But you cannot guess what the reason was?" + +"Yes--and no. It depends upon her character, which I do not pretend to +understand." + +"I understand it well enough. I can guess at the fact. You made love to +her, and one fine day, when she saw that you were losing your head, she +quietly told her servant to say that she was not at home when you +called. Is that it?" + +"Possibly. You say you know her well--then you know whether she would +act in that way or not." + +"I ought to know. I think she would. She is not like other women--she +has not the same blood." + +"Who is she?" asked Orsino, with a sudden hope that he might learn the +truth. + +"A woman--rather better than the rest--a widow, too, the widow of a man +who never was her husband--thank God!" + +Spicca slowly refilled and emptied his goblet for the tenth time. + +"The rest is a secret," he added, when he had finished drinking. + +The dark, sunken eyes gazed into Orsino's with an expression so strange +and full of a sort of inexplicable horror, as to make the young man +think that the deep potations were beginning to produce an effect upon +the strong old head. Spicca sat quite still for several minutes after he +had spoken, and then leaned back in his cane chair with a deep sigh. +Orsino sighed too, in a sort of unconscious sympathy, for even allowing +for Spicca's natural melancholy the secret was evidently an unpleasant +one. Orsino tried to turn the conversation, not, however, without a hope +of bringing it back unawares to the question which interested him. + +"And so you really mean to stay here all summer," he remarked, lighting +a cigarette and looking at the people seated at a table behind Spicca. + +Spicca did not answer at first, and when he did his reply had nothing to +do with Orsino's interrogatory observation. + +"We never get rid of the things we have done in our lives," he said, +dreamily. "When a man sows seed in a ploughed field some of the grains +are picked out by birds, and some never sprout. We are much more +perfectly organised than the earth. The actions we sow in our souls all +take root, inevitably and fatally--and they all grow to maturity sooner +or later." + +Orsino stared at him for a moment. + +"You are in a philosophising mood this evening," he said. + +"We are only logic's pawns," continued Spicca without heeding the +remark. "Or, if you like it better, we are the Devil's chess pieces in +his match against God. We are made to move each in our own way. The one +by short irregular steps in every direction, the other in long straight +lines between starting point and goal--the one stands still, like the +king-piece, and never moves unless he is driven to it, the other jumps +unevenly like the knight. It makes no difference. We take a certain +number of other pieces, and then we are taken ourselves--always by the +adversary--and tossed aside out of the game. But then, it is easy to +carry out the simile, because the game itself was founded on the facts +of life, by the people who invented it." + +"No doubt," said Orsino, who was not very much interested. + +"Yes. You have only to give the pieces the names of men and women you +know, and to call the pawns society--you will see how very like real +life chess can be. The king and queen on each side are a married couple. +Of course, the object of each queen is to get the other king, and all +her friends help her--knights, bishops, rooks and her set of society +pawns. Very like real life, is it not? Wait till you are married." + +Spicca smiled grimly and took more wine. + +"There at least you have no personal experience," objected Orsino. + +But Spicca only smiled again, and vouchsafed no answer. + +"Is Madame d'Aranjuez coming back next winter?" asked the young man. + +"Madame d'Aranjuez will probably come back, since she is free to consult +her own tastes," answered Spicca gravely. + +"I hope she may be out of danger by that time," said Orsino quietly. He +had resolved upon a bolder attack than he had hitherto made. + +"What danger is she in now?" asked Spicca quietly. + +"Surely, you must know." + +"I do not understand you. Please speak plainly if you are in earnest." + +"Before she went away I called once more. When I was coming away her +maid met me in the corridor of the hotel and told me that Madame +d'Aranjuez was not quite sane, and that she, the maid, was in reality +her keeper, or nurse--or whatever you please to call her." + +Spicca laughed harshly. No one could remember to have heard him laugh +many times. + +"Oh--she said that, did she?" He seemed very much amused. "Yes," he +added presently, "I think Madame d'Aranjuez will be quite out of danger +before Christmas." + +Orsino was more puzzled than ever. He was almost sure that Spicca did +not look upon the maid's assertion as serious, and in that case, if his +interest in Maria Consuelo was friendly, it was incredible that he +should seem amused at what was at least a very dangerous piece of spite +on the part of a trusted servant. + +"Then is there no truth in that woman's statement?" asked Orsino. + +"Madame d'Aranjuez seemed perfectly sane when I last saw her," answered +Spicca indifferently. + +"Then what possible interest had the maid in inventing the lie?" + +"Ah--what interest? That is quite another matter, as you say. It may not +have been her own interest." + +"You think that Madame d'Aranjuez had instructed her?" + +"Not necessarily. Some one else may have suggested the idea, subject to +the lady's own consent." + +"And she would have consented? I do not believe that." + +"My dear Orsino, the world is full of such apparently improbable things +that it is always rash to disbelieve anything on the first hearing. It +is really much less trouble to accept all that one is told without +question." + +"Of course, if you tell me positively that she wishes to be thought +mad--" + +"I never say anything positively, especially about a woman--and least of +all about the lady in question, who is undoubtedly eccentric." + +Instead of being annoyed, Orsino felt his curiosity growing, and made a +rash vow to find out the truth at any price. It was inconceivable, he +thought, that Spicca should still have perfect control of his faculties, +considering the extent of his potations. The second flask was growing +light, and Orsino himself had not taken more than two or three glasses. +Now a Chianti flask never holds less than two quarts. Moreover Spicca +was generally a very moderate man. He would assuredly not resist the +confusing effects of the wine much longer and he would probably become +confidential. + +But Orsino had mistaken his man. Spicca's nerves, overwrought by some +unknown disturbance in his affairs, were in that state in which far +stronger stimulants than Tuscan wine have little or no effect upon the +brain. Orsino looked at him and wondered, as many had wondered already, +what sort of life the man had led, outside and beyond the social +existence which every one could see. Few men had been dreaded like the +famous duellist, who had played with the best swordsmen in Europe as a +cat plays with a mouse. And yet he had been respected, as well as +feared. There had been that sort of fatality in his quarrels which had +saved him from the imputation of having sought them. He had never been a +gambler, as reputed duellists often are. He had never refused to stand +second for another man out of personal dislike or prejudice. No one had +ever asked his help in vain, high or low, rich or poor, in a reasonably +good cause. His acts of kindness came to light accidentally after many +years. Yet most people fancied that he hated mankind, with that sort of +generous detestation which never stoops to take a mean advantage. In his +duels he had always shown the utmost consideration for his adversary and +the utmost indifference to his own interest when conditions had to be +made. Above all, he had never killed a man by accident. That is a crime +which society does not forgive. But he had not failed, either, when he +had meant to kill. His speech was often bitter, but never spiteful, and, +having nothing to fear, he was a very truthful man. He was also +reticent, however, and no one could boast of knowing the story which +every one agreed in saying had so deeply influenced his life. He had +often been absent from Rome for long periods, and had been heard of as +residing in more than one European capital. He had always been supposed +to be rich, but during the last three years it had become clear to his +friends that he was poor. That is all, roughly speaking, which was known +of John Nepomucene, Count Spicca, by the society in which he had spent +more than half his life. + +Orsino, watching the pale and melancholy face, compared himself with his +companion, and wondered whether any imaginable series of events could +turn him into such a man at the same age. Yet he admired Spicca, besides +respecting him. Boy-like, he envied the great duellist his reputation, +his unerring skill, his unfaltering nerve; he even envied him the fear +he inspired in those whom he did not like. He thought less highly of his +sayings now, perhaps, than when he had first been old enough to +understand them. The youthful affectation of cynicism had agreed well +with the old man's genuine bitterness, but the pride of growing manhood +was inclined to put away childish things and had not yet suffered so as +to understand real suffering. Six months had wrought a change in Orsino, +and so far the change was for the better. He had been fortunate in +finding success at the first attempt, and his passing passion for Maria +Consuelo had left little trace beyond a certain wondering regret that it +had not been greater, and beyond the recollection of her sad face at +their parting and of the sobs he had overheard. Though he could only +give those tears one meaning, he realised less and less as the months +passed that they had been shed for him. + +That Maria Consuelo should often be in his thoughts was no proof that he +still loved her in the smallest degree. There had been enough odd +circumstances about their acquaintance to rouse any ordinary man's +interest, and just at present Spicca's strange hints and half +confidences had excited an almost unbearable curiosity in his hearer. +But Spicca did not seem inclined to satisfy it any further. + +One or two points, at least, were made clear. Maria Consuelo was not +insane, as the maid had pretended. Her marriage with the deceased +Aranjuez had been a marriage only in name, if it had even amounted to +that. Finally, it was evident that she stood in some very near relation +to Spicca and that neither she nor he wished the fact to be known. To +all appearance they had carefully avoided meeting during the preceding +winter, and no one in society was aware that they were even acquainted. +Orsino recalled more than one occasion when each had been mentioned in +the presence of the other. He had a good memory and he remembered that +a scarcely perceptible change had taken place in the manner or +conversation of the one who heard the other's name. It even seemed to +him that at such moments Maria Consuelo had shown an infinitesimal +resentment, whereas Spicca had faintly exhibited something more like +impatience. If this were true, it argued that Spicca was more friendly +to Maria Consuelo than she was to him. Yet on this particular evening +Spicca had spoken somewhat bitterly of her--but then, Spicca was always +bitter. His last remark was to the effect that she was eccentric. After +a long silence, during which Orsino hoped that his friend would say +something more, he took up the point. + +"I wish I knew what you meant by eccentric," he said. "I had the +advantage of seeing Madame d'Aranjuez frequently, and I did not notice +any eccentricity about her." + +"Ah--perhaps you are not observant. Or perhaps, as you say, we do not +mean the same thing." + +"That is why I would like to hear your definition," observed Orsino. + +"The world is mad on the subject of definitions," answered Spicca. "It +is more blessed to define than to be defined. It is a pleasant thing to +say to one's enemy, 'Sir, you are a scoundrel.' But when your enemy says +the same thing to you, you kill him without hesitation or regret--which +proves, I suppose, that you are not pleased with his definition of you. +You see definition, after all, is a matter of taste. So, as our tastes +might not agree, I would rather not define anything this evening. I +believe I have finished that flask. Let us take our coffee. We can +define that beforehand, for we know by daily experience how diabolically +bad it is." + +Orsino saw that Spicca meant to lead the conversation away in another +direction. + +"May I ask you one serious question?" he inquired, leaning forward. + +"With a little ingenuity you may even ask me a dozen, all equally +serious, my dear Orsino. But I cannot promise to answer all or any +particular one. I am not omniscient, you know." + +"My question is this. I have no sort of right to ask it. I know that. +Are you nearly related to Madame d'Aranjuez?" + +Spicca looked curiously at him. + +"Would the information be of any use to you?" he asked. "Should I be +doing you a service in telling you that we are, or are not related?" + +"Frankly, no," answered Orsino, meeting the steady glance without +wavering. + +"Then I do not see any reason whatever for telling you the truth," +returned Spicca quietly. "But I will give you a piece of general +information. If harm comes to that lady through any man whomsoever, I +will certainly kill him, even if I have to be carried upon the ground." + +There was no mistaking the tone in which the threat was uttered. Spicca +meant what he said, though not one syllable was spoken louder than +another. In his mouth the words had a terrific force, and told Orsino +more of the man's true nature than he had learnt in years. Orsino was +not easily impressed, and was certainly not timid, morally or +physically; moreover he was in the prime of youth and not less skilful +than other men in the use of weapons. But he felt at that moment that he +would infinitely rather attack a regiment of artillery single-handed +than be called upon to measure swords with the cadaverous old invalid +who sat on the other side of the table. + +"It is not in my power to do any harm to Madame d'Aranjuez," he answered +proudly enough, "and you ought to know that if it were, it could not +possibly be in my intention. Therefore your threat is not intended for +me." + +"Very good, Orsino. Your father would have answered like that, and you +mean what you say. If I were young I think that you and I should be +friends. Fortunately for you there is a matter of forty years' +difference between our ages, so that you escape the infliction of such +a nuisance as my friendship. You must find it bad enough to have to put +up with my company." + +"Do not talk like that," answered Orsino. "The world is not all +vinegar." + +"Well, well--you will find out what the world is in time. And perhaps +you will find out many other things which you want to know. I must be +going, for I have letters to write. Checco! My bill." + +Five minutes later they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Although Orsino's character was developing quickly in the new +circumstances which he had created for himself, he was not of an age to +be continually on his guard against passing impressions; still less +could it be expected that he should be hardened against them by +experience, as many men are by nature. His conversation with Spicca, and +Spicca's own behaviour while it lasted, produced a decided effect upon +the current of his thoughts, and he was surprised to find himself +thinking more often and more seriously of Maria Consuelo than during the +months which had succeeded her departure from Rome. Spicca's words had +acted indirectly upon his mind. Much that the old man had said was +calculated to rouse Orsino's curiosity, but Orsino was not naturally +curious and though he felt that it would be very interesting to know +Maria Consuelo's story, the chief result of the Count's half +confidential utterances was to recall the lady herself very vividly to +his recollection. + +At first his memory merely brought back the endless details of his +acquaintance with her, which had formed the central feature of the first +season he had spent without interruption in Rome and in society. He was +surprised at the extreme precision of the pictures evoked, and took +pleasure in calling them up when he was alone and unoccupied. The events +themselves had not, perhaps, been all agreeable, yet there was not one +which it did not give him some pleasant sensation to remember. There was +a little sadness in some of them, and more than once the sadness was +mingled with something of humiliation. Yet even this last was bearable. +Though he did not realise it, he was quite unable to think of Maria +Consuelo without feeling some passing touch of happiness at the thought, +for happiness can live with sadness when it is the greater of the two. +He had no desire to analyse these sensations. Indeed the idea did not +enter his mind that they were worth analysing. His intelligence was +better employed with his work, and his reflexions concerning Maria +Consuelo chiefly occupied his hours of rest. + +The days passed quickly at first and then, as September came they seemed +longer, instead of shorter. He was beginning to wish that the winter +would come, that he might again see the woman of whom he was continually +thinking. More than once he thought of writing to her, for he had the +address which the maid had given him--an address in Paris which said +nothing, a mere number with the name of a street. He wondered whether +she would answer him, and when he had reached the self-satisfying +conviction that she would, he at last wrote a letter, such as any person +might write to another. He told her of the weather, of the dulness of +Rome, of his hope that she would return early in the season, and of his +own daily occupations. It was a simply expressed, natural and not at all +emotional epistle, not at all like that of a man in the least degree in +love with his correspondent, but Orsino felt an odd sensation of +pleasure in writing it and was surprised by a little thrill of happiness +as he posted it with his own hand. + +He did not forget the letter when he had sent it, either, as one forgets +the uninteresting letters one is obliged to write out of civility. He +hoped for an answer. Even if she were in Paris, Maria Consuelo might +not, and probably would not, reply by return of post. And it was not +probable that she would be in town at the beginning of September. Orsino +calculated the time necessary to forward the letter from Paris to the +most distant part of frequented Europe, allowed her three days for +answering and three days more for her letter to reach him. The interval +elapsed, but nothing came. Then he was irritated, and at last he became +anxious. Either something had happened to Maria Consuelo, or he had +somehow unconsciously offended her by what he had written. He had no +copy of the letter and could not recall a single phrase which could have +displeased her, but he feared lest something might have crept into it +which she might misinterpret. But this idea was too absurd to be tenable +for long, and the conviction grew upon him that she must be ill or in +some great trouble. He was amazed at his own anxiety. + +Three weeks had gone by since he had written, and yet no word of reply +had reached him. Then he sought out Spicca and asked him boldly whether +anything had happened to Maria Consuelo, explaining that he had written +to her and had got no answer. Spicca looked at him curiously for a +moment. + +"Nothing has happened to her, as far as I am aware," he said, almost +immediately. "I saw her this morning." + +"This morning?" Orsino was surprised almost out of words. + +"Yes. She is here, looking for an apartment in which to spend the +winter." + +"Where is she?" + +Spicca named the hotel, adding that Orsino would probably find her at +home during the hot hours of the afternoon. + +"Has she been here long?" asked the young man. + +"Three days." + +"I will go and see her at once. I may be useful to her in finding an +apartment." + +"That would be very kind of you," observed Spicca, glancing at him +rather thoughtfully. + +On the following afternoon, Orsino presented himself at the hotel and +asked for Madame d'Aranjuez. She received him in a room not very +different from the one of which she had had made her sitting-room during +the winter. As always, one or two new books and the mysterious silver +paper cutter were the only objects of her own which were visible. Orsino +hardly noticed the fact, however, for she was already in the room when +he entered, and his eyes met hers at once. + +He fancied that she looked less strong than formerly, but the heat was +great and might easily account for her pallor. Her eyes were deeper, and +their tawny colour seemed darker. Her hand was cold. + +She smiled faintly as she met Orsino, but said nothing and sat down at a +distance from the windows. + +"I only heard last night that you were in Rome," he said. + +"And you came at once to see me. Thanks. How did you find it out?" + +"Spicca told me. I had asked him for news of you." + +"Why him?" inquired Maria Consuelo with some curiosity. + +"Because I fancied he might know," answered Orsino passing lightly over +the question. He did not wish even Maria Consuelo to guess that Spicca +had spoken of her to him. "The reason why I was anxious about you was +that I had written you a letter. I wrote some weeks ago to your address +in Paris and got no answer." + +"You wrote?" Maria Consuelo seemed surprised. "I have not been in Paris. +Who gave you the address? What was it?" + +Orsino named the street and the number. + +"I once lived there a short time, two years ago. Who gave you the +address? Not Count Spicca?" + +"No." + +Orsino hesitated to say more. He did not like to admit that he had +received the address from Maria Consuelo's maid, and it might seem +incredible that the woman should have given the information unasked. At +the same time the fact that the address was to all intents and purposes +a false one tallied with the maid's spontaneous statement in regard to +her mistress's mental alienation. + +"Why will you not tell me?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +"The answer involves a question which does not concern me. The address +was evidently intended to deceive me. The person who gave it attempted +to deceive me about a far graver matter, too. Let us say no more about +it. Of course you never got the letter?" + +"Of course not." + +A short silence followed which Orsino felt to be rather awkward. Maria +Consuelo looked at him suddenly. + +"Did my maid tell you?" she asked. + +"Yes--since you ask me. She met me in the corridor after my last visit +and thrust the address upon me." + +"I thought so," said Maria Consuelo. + +"You have suspected her before?" + +"What was the other deception?" + +"That is a more serious matter. The woman is your trusted servant. At +least you must have trusted her when you took her--" + +"That does not follow. What did she try to make you believe?" + +"It is hard to tell you. For all I know, she may have been +instructed--you may have instructed her yourself. One stumbles upon odd +things in life, sometimes." + +"You called yourself my friend once, Don Orsino." + +"If you will let me, I will call myself so still." + +"Then, in the name of friendship, tell me what the woman said!" Maria +Consuelo spoke with sudden energy, touching his arm quickly with an +unconscious gesture. + +"Will you believe me?" + +"Are you accustomed to being doubted, that you ask?" + +"No. But this thing is very strange." + +"Do not keep me waiting--it hurts me!" + +"The woman stopped me as I was going away. I had never spoken to her. +She knew my name. She told me that you were--how shall I say?--mentally +deranged." + +Maria Consuelo started and turned very pale. + +"She told you that I was mad?" Her voice sank to a whisper. + +"That is what she said." + +Orsino watched her narrowly. She evidently believed him. Then she sank +back in her chair with a stifled cry of horror, covering her eyes with +her hands. + +"And you might have believed it!" she exclaimed. "You might really have +believed it--you!" + +The cry came from her heart and would have shown Orsino what weight she +still attached to his opinion had he not himself been too suddenly and +deeply interested in the principal question to pay attention to details. + +"She made the statement very clearly," he said. "What could have been +her object in the lie?" + +"What object? Ah--if I knew that--" + +Maria Consuelo rose and paced the room, her head bent and her hands +nervously clasping and unclasping. Orsino stood by the empty fireplace, +watching her. + +"You will send the woman away of course?" he said, in a questioning +tone. + +But she shook her head and her anxiety seemed to increase. + +"Is it possible that you will submit to such a thing from a servant?" he +asked in astonishment. + +"I have submitted to much," she answered in a low voice. + +"The inevitable, of course. But to keep a maid whom you can turn away at +any moment--" + +"Yes--but can I?" She stopped and looked at him. "Oh, if I only +could--if you knew how I hate the woman--" + +"But then--" + +"Yes?" + +"Do you mean to tell me that you are in some way in her power, so that +you are bound to keep her always?" + +Maria Consuelo hesitated a moment. + +"Are you in her power?" asked Orsino a second time. He did not like the +idea and his black brows bent themselves rather angrily. + +"No--not directly. She is imposed upon me." + +"By circumstances?" + +"No, again. By a person who has the power to impose much upon me--but +this! Oh this is almost too much! To be called mad!" + +"Then do not submit to it." + +Orsino spoke decisively, with a kind of authority which surprised +himself. He was amazed and righteously angry at the situation so +suddenly revealed to him, undefined as it was. He saw that he was +touching a great trouble and his natural energy bid him lay violent +hands on it and root it out if possible. + +For some minutes Maria Consuelo did not speak, but continued to pace the +room, evidently in great anxiety. Then she stopped before him. + +"It is easy for you to say, 'do not submit,' when you do not +understand," she said. "If you knew what my life is, you would look at +this in another way. I must submit--I cannot do otherwise." + +"If you would tell me something more, I might help you," answered +Orsino. + +"You?" She paused. "I believe you would, if you could," she added, +thoughtfully. + +"You know that I would. Perhaps I can, as it is, in ignorance, if you +will direct me." + +A sudden light gleamed in Maria Consuelo's eyes and then died away as +quickly as it had come. + +"After all, what could you do?" she asked with a change of tone, as +though she were somehow disappointed. "What could you do that others +would not do as well, if they could, and with a better right?" + +"Unless you will tell me, how can I know?" + +"Yes--if I could tell you." + +She went and sat down in her former seat and Orsino took a chair beside +her. He had expected to renew the acquaintance in a very different way, +and that he should spend half an hour with Maria Consuelo in talking +about apartments, about the heat and about the places she had visited. +Instead, circumstances had made the conversation an intimate one full of +an absorbing interest to both. Orsino found that he had forgotten much +which pleased him strangely now that it was again brought before him. He +had forgotten most of all, it seemed, that an unexplained sympathy +attracted him to her, and her to him. He wondered at the strength of it, +and found it hard to understand that last meeting with her in the +spring. + +"Is there any way of helping you, without knowing your secret?" he asked +in a low voice. + +"No. But I thank you for the wish." + +"Are you sure there is no way? Quite sure?" + +"Quite sure." + +"May I say something that strikes me?" + +"Say anything you choose." + +"There is a plot against you. You seem to know it. Have you never +thought of plotting on your side?" + +"I have no one to help me." + +"You have me, if you will take my help. And you have Spicca. You might +do better, but you might do worse. Between us we might accomplish +something." + +Maria Consuelo had started at Spicca's name. She seemed very nervous +that day. + +"Do you know what you are saying?" she asked after a moment's thought. + +"Nothing that should offend you, at least." + +"No. But you are proposing that I should ally myself with the man of all +others whom I have reason to hate." + +"You hate Spicca?" Orsino was passing from one surprise to another. + +"Whether I hate him or not, is another matter. I ought to." + +"At all events he does not hate you." + +"I know he does not. That makes it no easier for me. I could not accept +his help." + +"All this is so mysterious that I do not know what to say," said Orsino, +thoughtfully. "The fact remains, and it is bad enough. You need help +urgently. You are in the power of a servant who tells your friends that +you are insane and thrusts false addresses upon them, for purposes which +I cannot explain." + +"Nor I either, though I may guess." + +"It is worse and worse. You cannot even be sure of the motives of this +woman, though you know the person or persons by whom she is forced upon +you. You cannot get rid of her yourself and you will not let any one +else help you." + +"Not Count Spicca." + +"And yet I am sure that he would do much for you. Can you not even tell +me why you hate him, or ought to hate him?" + +Maria Consuelo hesitated and looked into Orsino's eyes for a moment. + +"Can I trust you?" she asked. + +"Implicitly." + +"He killed my husband." + +Orsino uttered a low exclamation of horror. In the deep silence which +followed he heard Maria Consuelo draw her breath once or twice sharply +through her closed teeth, as though she were in great pain. + +"I do not wish it known," she said presently, in a changed voice. "I do +not know why I told you." + +"You can trust me." + +"I must--since I have spoken." + +In the surprise caused by the startling confidence, Orsino suddenly felt +that his capacity for sympathy had grown to great dimensions. If he had +been a woman, the tears would have stood in his eyes. Being what he was, +he felt them in his heart. It was clear that she had loved the dead man +very dearly. In the light of this evident fact, it was hard to explain +her conduct towards Orsino during the winter and especially at their +last meeting. + +For a long time neither spoke again. Orsino, indeed, had nothing to say +at first, for nothing he could say could reasonably be supposed to be of +any use. He had learned the existence of something like a tragedy in +Maria Consuelo's life, and he seemed to be learning the first lesson of +friendship, which teaches sympathy. It was not an occasion for making +insignificant phrases expressing his regret at her loss, and the +language he needed in order to say what he meant was unfamiliar to his +lips. He was silent, therefore, but his young face was grave and +thoughtful, and his eyes sought hers from time to time as though trying +to discover and forestall her wishes. At last she glanced at him +quickly, then looked down, and at last spoke to him. + +"You will not make me regret having told you this--will you?" she asked. + +"No. I promise you that." + +So far as Orsino could understand the words meant very little. He was +not very communicative, as a rule, and would certainly not tell what he +had heard, so that the promise was easily given and easy to keep. If he +did not break it, he did not see that she could have any further cause +for regretting her confidence in him. Nevertheless, by way of reassuring +her, he thought it best to repeat what he had said in different words. + +"You may be quite sure that whatever you choose to tell me is in safe +keeping," he said. "And you may be sure, too, that if it is in my power +to do you a service of any kind, you will find me ready, and more than +ready, to help you." + +"Thank you," she answered, looking earnestly at him. + +"Whether the matter be small or great," he added, meeting her eyes. + +Perhaps she expected to find more curiosity on his part, and fancied +that he would ask some further question. He did not understand the +meaning of her look. + +"I believe you," she said at last. "I am too much in need of a friend to +doubt you." + +"You have found one." + +"I do not know. I am not sure. There are other things--" she stopped +suddenly and looked away. + +"What other things?" + +But Maria Consuelo did not answer. Orsino knew that she was thinking of +all that had once passed between them. He wondered whether, if he led +the way, she would press him as she had done at their last meeting. If +she did, he wondered what he should say. He had been very cold then, far +colder than he was now. He now felt drawn to her, as in the first days +of their acquaintance. He felt always that he was on the point of +understanding her, and yet that he was waiting, for something which +should help him to pass that point. + +"What other things?" he asked, repeating his question. "Do you mean that +there are reasons which may prevent me from being a good friend of +yours?" + +"I am afraid there are. I do not know." + +"I think you are mistaken, Madame. Will you name some of those +reasons--or even one?" + +Maria Consuelo did not answer at once. She glanced at him, looked down, +and then her eyes met his again. + +"Do you think that you are the kind of man a woman chooses for her +friend?" she asked at length, with a faint smile. + +"I have not thought of the matter--" + +"But you should--before offering your friendship." + +"Why? If I feel a sincere sympathy for your trouble, if I am--" he +hesitated, weighing his words--"if I am personally attached to you, why +can I not help you? I am honest, and in earnest. May I say as much as +that of myself?" + +"I believe you are." + +"Then I cannot see that I am not the sort of man whom a woman might take +for a friend when a better is not at hand." + +"And do you believe in friendship, Don Orsino?" asked Maria Consuelo +quietly. + +"I have heard it said that it is not wise to disbelieve anything +nowadays," answered Orsino. + +"True--and the word 'friend' has such a pretty sound!" She laughed, for +the first time since he had entered the room. + +"Then it is you who are the unbeliever, Madame. Is not that a sign that +you need no friend at all, and that your questions are not seriously +meant?" + +"Perhaps. Who knows?" + +"Do you know, yourself?" + +"No." Again she laughed a little, and then grew suddenly grave. + +"I never knew a woman who needed a friend more urgently than you do," +said Orsino. "I do not in the least understand your position. The little +you have told me makes it clear enough that there have been and still +are unusual circumstances in your life. One thing I see. That woman whom +you call your maid is forced upon you against your will, to watch you, +and is privileged to tell lies about you which may do you a great +injury. I do not ask why you are obliged to suffer her presence, but I +see that you must, and I guess that you hate it. Would it be an act of +friendship to free you from her or not?" + +"At present it would not be an act of friendship," answered Maria +Consuelo, thoughtfully. + +"That is very strange. Do you mean to say that you submit voluntarily--" + +"The woman is a condition imposed upon me. I cannot tell you more." + +"And no friend, no friendly help can change the condition, I suppose." + +"I did not say that. But such help is beyond your power, Don Orsino," +she added turning towards him rather suddenly. "Let us not talk of this +any more. Believe me, nothing can be done. You have sometimes acted +strangely with me, but I really think you would help me if you could. +Let that be the state of our acquaintance. You are willing, and I +believe that you are. Nothing more. Let that be our compact. But you can +perhaps help me in another way--a smaller way. I want a habitation of +some kind for the winter, for I am tired of camping out in hotels. You +who know your own city so well can name some person who will undertake +the matter." + +"I know the very man," said Orsino promptly. + +"Will you write out the address for me?" + +"It is not necessary. I mean myself." + +"I could not let you take so much trouble," protested Maria Consuelo. + +But she accepted, nevertheless, after a little hesitation. For some time +they discussed the relative advantages of the various habitable quarters +of the city, both glad, perhaps, to find an almost indifferent subject +of conversation, and both relatively happy merely in being together. The +talk made one of those restful interludes which are so necessary, and +often so hard to produce, between two people whose thoughts run upon a +strong common interest, and who find it difficult to exchange half a +dozen words without being led back to the absorbing topic. + +What had been said had produced a decided effect upon Orsino. He had +come expecting to take up the acquaintance on a new footing, but ten +minutes had not elapsed before he had found himself as much interested +as ever in Maria Consuelo's personality, and far more interested in her +life than he had ever been before. While talking with more or less +indifference about the chances of securing a suitable apartment for the +winter, Orsino listened with an odd sensation of pleasure to every tone +of his companion's voice and watched every changing expression of the +striking face. He wondered whether he were not perhaps destined to love +her sincerely as he had already loved her in a boyish, capricious +fashion which would no longer be natural to him now. But for the present +he was sure that he did not love her, and that he desired nothing but +her sympathy for himself, and to feel sympathy for her. Those were the +words he used, and he did not explain them to his own intelligence in +any very definite way. He was conscious, indeed, that they meant more +than formerly, but the same was true of almost everything that came into +his life, and he did not therefore attach any especial importance to the +fact. He was altogether much more in earnest than when he had first met +Maria Consuelo; he was capable of deeper feeling, of stronger +determination and of more decided action in all matters, and though he +did not say so to himself he was none the less aware of the change. + +"Shall we make an appointment for to-morrow?" he asked, after they had +been talking some time. + +"Yes--but there is one thing I wanted to ask you--" + +"What is that?" inquired Orsino, seeing that she hesitated. + +The faint colour rose in her cheeks, but she looked straight into his +eyes, with a kind of fearless expression, as though she were facing a +danger. + +"Tell me," she said, "in Rome, where everything is known and every one +talks so much, will it not be thought strange that you and I should be +driving about together, looking for a house for me? Tell me the truth." + +"What can people say?" asked Orsino. + +"Many things. Will they say them?" + +"If they do, I can make them stop talking." + +"That means that they will talk, does it not? Would you like that?" + +There was a sudden change in her face, with a look of doubt and anxious +perplexity. Orsino saw it and felt that she was putting him upon his +honour, and that whatever the doubt might be it had nothing to do with +her trust in him. Six months earlier he would not have hesitated to +demonstrate that her fears were empty--but he felt that six months +earlier she might not have yielded to his reasoning. It was instinctive, +but his instinct was not mistaken. + +"I think you are right," he said slowly. "We should not do it. I will +send my architect with you." + +There was enough regret in the tone to show that he was making a +considerable sacrifice. A little delicacy means more when it comes from +a strong man, than when it is the natural expression of an over-refined +and somewhat effeminate character. And Orsino was rapidly developing a +strength of which other people were conscious. Maria Consuelo was +pleased, though she, too, was perhaps sorry to give up the projected +plan. + +"After all," she said, thoughtlessly, "you can come and see me here, +if--" + +She stopped and blushed again, more deeply this time; but she turned her +face away and in the half light the change of colour was hardly +noticeable. + +"You were going to say 'if you care to see me,'" said Orsino. "I am glad +you did not say it. It would not have been kind." + +"Yes--I was going to say that," she answered quietly. "But I will not." + +"Thank you." + +"Why do you thank me?" + +"For not hurting me." + +"Do you think that I would hurt you willingly, in any way?" + +"I would rather not think so. You did once." + +The words slipped from his lips almost before he had time to realise +what they meant. He was thinking of the night when she had drawn up the +carriage window, leaving him standing on the pavement, and of her +repeated refusals to see him afterwards. It seemed long ago, and the +hurt had not really been so sharp as he now fancied that it must have +been, judging from what he now felt. She looked at him quickly as though +wondering what he would say next. + +"I never meant to be unkind," she said. "I have often asked myself +whether you could say as much." + +It was Orsino's turn to change colour. He was young enough for that, +and the blood rose slowly in his dark cheeks. He thought again of their +last meeting, and of what he had heard as he shut the door after him on +that day. Perhaps he would have spoken, but Maria Consuelo was sorry for +what she had said, and a little ashamed of her weakness, as indeed she +had some cause to be, and she immediately turned back to a former point +of the conversation, not too far removed from what had last been said. + +"You see," said she, "I was right to ask you whether people would talk. +And I am grateful to you for telling me the truth. It is a first proof +of friendship--of something better than our old relations. Will you send +me your architect to-morrow, since you are so kind as to offer his +help?" + +After arranging for the hour of meeting Orsino rose to take his leave. + +"May I come to-morrow?" he asked. "People will not talk about that," he +added with a smile. + +"You can ask for me. I may be out. If I am at home, I shall be glad to +see you." + +She spoke coldly, and Orsino saw that she was looking over his shoulder. +He turned instinctively and saw that the door was open and Spicca was +standing just outside, looking in and apparently waiting for a word from +Maria Consuelo before entering. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +As Orsino had no reason whatever for avoiding Spicca he naturally waited +a moment instead of leaving the room immediately. He looked at the old +man with a new interest as the latter came forward. He had never seen +and probably would never see again a man taking the hand of a woman +whose husband he had destroyed. He stood a little back and Spicca +passed him as he met Maria Consuelo. Orsino watched the faces of both. + +Madame d'Aranjuez put out her hand mechanically and with evident +reluctance, and Orsino guessed that but for his own presence she would +not have given it. The expression in her face changed rapidly from that +which had been there when they had been alone, hardening very quickly +until it reminded Orsino of a certain mask of the Medusa which had once +made an impression upon his imagination. Her eyes were fixed and the +pupils grew small while the singular golden yellow colour of the iris +flashed disagreeably. She did not bend her head as she silently gave her +hand. + +Spicca, too, seemed momentarily changed. He was as pale and thin as +ever, but his face softened oddly; certain lines which contributed to +his usually bitter and sceptical expression disappeared, while others +became visible which changed his look completely. He bowed with more +deference than he affected with other women, and Orsino fancied that he +would have held Maria Consuelo's hand a moment longer, if she had not +withdrawn it as soon as it had touched his. + +If Orsino had not already known that Spicca often saw her, he would have +been amazed at the count's visit, considering what she had said of the +man. As it was, he wondered what power Spicca had over her to oblige her +to receive him, and he wondered in vain. The conclusion which forced +itself before him was that Spicca was the person who imposed the serving +woman upon Maria Consuelo. But her behaviour towards him, on the other +hand, was not that of a person obliged by circumstances to submit to the +caprices and dictation of another. Judging by the appearance of the two, +it seemed more probable that the power was on the other side, and might +be used mercilessly on occasion. + +"I hope I am not disturbing your plans," said Spicca, in a tone which +was almost humble, and very unlike his usual voice. "Were you going out +together?" + +He shook hands with Orsino, avoiding his glance, as the young man +thought. + +"No," answered Maria Consuelo briefly. "I was not going out." + +"I am just going away," said Orsino by way of explanation, and he made +as though he would take his leave. + +"Do not go yet," said Maria Consuelo. Her look made the words +imperative. + +Spicca glanced from one to the other with a sort of submissive protest, +and then all three sat down. Orsino wondered what part he was expected +to play in the trio, and wished himself away in spite of the interest he +felt in the situation. + +Maria Consuelo began to talk in a careless tone which reminded him of +his first meeting with her in Gouache's studio. She told Spicca that +Orsino had promised her his architect as a guide in her search for a +lodging. + +"What sort of person is he?" inquired Spicca, evidently for the sake of +making conversation. + +"Contini is a man of business," Orsino answered. "An odd fellow, full of +talent, and a musical genius. One would not expect very much of him at +first, but he will do all that Madame d'Aranjuez needs." + +"Otherwise you would not have recommended him, I suppose," said Spicca. + +"Certainly not," replied Orsino, looking at him. + +"You must know, Madame," said Spicca, "that Don Orsino is an excellent +judge of men." + +He emphasised the last word in a way that seemed unnecessary. Maria +Consuelo had recovered all her equanimity and laughed carelessly. + +"How you say that!" she exclaimed. "Is it a warning?" + +"Against what?" asked Orsino. + +"Probably against you," she said. "Count Spicca likes to throw out vague +hints--but I will do him the credit to say that they generally mean +something." She added the last words rather scornfully. + +An expression of pain passed over the old man's face. But he said +nothing, though it was not like him to pass by a challenge of the kind. +Without in the least understanding the reason of the sensation, Orsino +felt sorry for him. + +"Among men, Count Spicca's opinion is worth having," he said quietly. + +Maria Consuelo looked at him in some surprise. The phrase sounded like a +rebuke, and her eyes betrayed her annoyance. + +"How delightful it is to hear one man defend another!" she laughed. + +"I fancy Count Spicca does not stand much in need of defence," replied +Orsino, without changing his tone. + +"He himself is the best judge of that." + +Spicca raised his weary eyes to hers and looked at her for a moment, +before he answered. + +"Yes," he said. "I think I am the best judge. But I am not accustomed to +being defended, least of all against you, Madame. The sensation is a new +one." + +Orsino felt himself out of place. He was more warmly attached to Spicca +than he knew, and though he was at that time not far removed from loving +Maria Consuelo, her tone in speaking to the old man, which said far more +than her words, jarred upon him, and he could not help taking his +friend's part. On the other hand the ugly truth that Spicca had caused +the death of Aranjuez more than justified Maria Consuelo in her hatred. +Behind all, there was evidently some good reason why Spicca came to see +her, and there was some bond between the two which made it impossible +for her to refuse his visits. It was clear too, that though she hated +him he felt some kind of strong affection for her. In her presence he +was very unlike his daily self. + +Again Orsino moved and looked at her, as though asking her permission to +go away. But she refused it with an imperative gesture and a look of +annoyance. She evidently did not wish to be left alone with the old +man. Without paying any further attention to the latter she began to +talk to Orsino. She took no trouble to conceal what she felt and the +impression grew upon Orsino that Spicca would have gone away after a +quarter of an hour, if he had not either possessed a sort of right to +stay or if he had not had some important object in view in remaining. + +"I suppose there is nothing to do in Rome at this time of year," she +said. + +Orsino told her that there was absolutely nothing to do. Not a theatre +was open, not a friend was in town. Rome was a wilderness. Rome was an +amphitheatre on a day when there was no performance, when the lions were +asleep, the gladiators drinking, and the martyrs unoccupied. He tried to +say something amusing and found it hard. + +Spicca was very patient, but evidently determined to outstay Orsino. +From time to time he made a remark, to which Maria Consuelo paid very +little attention if she took any notice of it at all. Orsino could not +make up his mind whether to stay or to go. The latter course would +evidently displease Maria Consuelo, whereas by remaining he was clearly +annoying Spicca and was perhaps causing him pain. It was a nice +question, and while trying to make conversation he weighed the arguments +in his mind. Strange to say he decided in favour of Spicca. The decision +was to some extent an index of the state of his feelings towards Madame +d'Aranjuez. If he had been quite in love with her, he would have stayed. +If he had wished to make her love him, he would have stayed also. As it +was, his friendship for the old count went before other considerations. +At the same time he hoped to manage matters so as not to incur Maria +Consuelo's displeasure. He found it harder than he had expected. After +he had made up his mind, he continued to talk during three or four +minutes and then made his excuse. + +"I must be going," he said quietly. "I have a number of things to do +before night, and I must see Contini in order to give him time to make +a list of apartments for you to see to-morrow." + +He took his hat and rose. He was not prepared for Maria Consuelo's +answer. + +"I asked you to stay," she said, coldly and very distinctly. + +Spicca did not allow his expression to change. Orsino stared at her. + +"I am very sorry, Madame, but there are many reasons which oblige me to +disobey you." + +Maria Consuelo bit her lip and her eyes gleamed angrily. She glanced at +Spicca as though hoping that he would go away with Orsino. But he did +not move. It was more and more clear that he had a right to stay if he +pleased. Orsino was already bowing before her. Instead of giving her +hand she rose quickly and led him towards the door. He opened it and +they stood together on the threshold. + +"Is this the way you help me?" she asked, almost fiercely, though in a +whisper. + +"Why do you receive him at all?" he inquired, instead of answering. + +"Because I cannot refuse." + +"But you might send him away?" + +She hesitated, and looked into his eyes. + +"Shall I?" + +"If you wish to be alone--and if you can. It is no affair of mine." + +She turned swiftly, leaving Orsino standing in the door and went to +Spicca's side. He had risen when she rose and was standing at the other +side of the room, watching. + +"I have a bad headache," she said coldly. "You will forgive me if I ask +you to go with Don Orsino." + +"A lady's invitation to leave her house, Madame, is the only one which a +man cannot refuse," said Spicca gravely. + +He bowed and followed Orsino out of the room, closing the door behind +him. The scene had produced a very disagreeable impression upon Orsino. +Had he not known the worst part of the secret and consequently +understood what good cause Maria Consuelo had for not wishing to be +alone with Spicca, he would have been utterly revolted and for ever +repelled by her brutality. No other word could express adequately her +conduct towards the count. Even knowing what he did, he wished that she +had controlled her temper better and he was more than ever sorry for +Spicca. It did not even cross his mind that the latter might have +intentionally provoked Aranjuez and killed him purposely. He felt +somehow that Spicca was in a measure the injured party and must have +been in that position from the beginning, whatever the strange story +might be. As the two descended the steps together Orsino glanced at his +companion's pale, drawn features and was sure that the man was to be +pitied. It was almost a womanly instinct, far too delicate for such a +hardy nature, and dependent perhaps upon that sudden opening of his +sympathies which resulted from meeting Maria Consuelo. I think that, on +the whole, in such cases, though the woman's character may be formed by +intimacy with man's, with apparent results, the impression upon the man +is momentarily deeper, as the woman's gentler instincts are in a way +reflected in his heart. + +Spicca recovered himself quickly, however. He took out his case and +offered Orsino a cigarette. + +"So you have renewed your acquaintance," he said quietly. + +"Yes--under rather odd circumstances," answered Orsino. "I feel as +though I owed you an apology, Count, and yet I do not see what there is +to apologise for. I tried to go away more than once." + +"You cannot possibly make excuses to me for Madame d'Aranjuez's +peculiarities, my friend. Besides, I admit that she has a right to treat +me as she pleases. That does not prevent me from going to see her every +day." + +"You must have strong reasons for bearing such treatment." + +"I have," answered Spicca thoughtfully and sadly. "Very strong reasons. +I will tell you one of those which brought me to-day. I wished to see +you two together." + +Orsino stopped in his walk, after the manner of Italians, and he looked +at Spicca. He was hot tempered when provoked, and he might have resented +the speech if it had come from any other man. But he spoke quietly. + +"Why do you wish to see us together?" he asked. + +"Because I am foolish enough to think sometimes that you suit one +another, and might love one another." + +Probably nothing which Spicca could have said could have surprised +Orsino more than such a plain statement. He grew suspicious at once, but +Spicca's look was that of a man in earnest. + +"I do not think I understand you," answered Orsino. "But I think you are +touching a subject which is better left alone." + +"I think not," returned Spicca unmoved. + +"Then let us agree to differ," said Orsino a little more warmly. + +"We cannot do that. I am in a position to make you agree with me, and I +will. I am responsible for that lady's happiness. I am responsible +before God and man." + +Something in the words made a deep impression upon Orsino. He had never +heard Spicca use anything approaching to solemn language before. He knew +at least one part of the meaning which showed Spicca's remorse for +having killed Aranjuez, and he knew that the old man meant what he said, +and meant it from his heart. + +"Do you understand me now?" asked Spicca, slowly inhaling the smoke of +his cigarette. + +"Not altogether. If you desire the happiness of Madame d'Aranjuez why do +you wish us to fall in love with each other? It strikes me that--" he +stopped. + +"Because I wish you would marry her." + +"Marry her!" Orsino had not thought of that, and his words expressed a +surprise which was not calculated to please Spicca. + +The old man's weary eyes suddenly grew keen and fierce and Orsino could +hardly meet their look. Spicca's nervous fingers seized the young man's +tough arm and closed upon it with surprising force. + +"I would advise you to think of that possibility before making any more +visits," he said, his weak voice suddenly clearing. "We were talking +together a few weeks ago. Do you remember what I said I would do to any +man by whom harm comes to her? Yes, you remember well enough. I know +what you answered, and I daresay you meant it. But I was in earnest, +too." + +"I think you are threatening me, Count Spicca," said Orsino, flushing +slowly but meeting the other's look with unflinching coolness. + +"No. I am not. And I will not let you quarrel with me, either, Orsino. I +have a right to say this to you where she is concerned--a right you do +not dream of. You cannot quarrel about that." + +Orsino did not answer at once. He saw that Spicca was very much in +earnest, and was surprised that his manner now should be less calm and +collected than on the occasion of their previous conversation, when the +count had taken enough wine to turn the heads of most men. He did not +doubt in the least the statement Spicca made. It agreed exactly with +what Maria Consuelo herself had said of him. And the statement certainly +changed the face of the situation. Orsino admitted to himself that he +had never before thought of marrying Madame d'Aranjuez. He had not even +taken into consideration the consequences of loving her and of being +loved by her in return. The moment he thought of a possible marriage as +the result of such a mutual attachment, he realised the enormous +difficulties which stood in the way of such a union, and his first +impulse was to give up visiting her altogether. What Spicca said was at +once reasonable and unreasonable. Maria Consuelo's husband was dead, and +she doubtless expected to marry again. Orsino had no right to stand in +the way of others who might present themselves as suitors. But it was +beyond belief that Spicca should expect Orsino to marry her himself, +knowing Rome and the Romans as he did. + +The two had been standing still in the shade. Orsino began to walk +forward again before he spoke. Something in his own reflexions shocked +him. He did not like to think that an impassable social barrier existed +between Maria Consuelo and himself. Yet, in his total ignorance of her +origin and previous life the stories which had been circulated about her +recalled themselves with unpleasant distinctness. Nothing that Spicca +had said when they had dined together had made the matter any clearer, +though the assurance that the deceased Aranjuez had come to his end by +Spicca's instrumentality sufficiently contradicted the worst, if also +the least credible, point in the tales which had been repeated by the +gossips early in the previous winter. All the rest belonged entirely to +the category of the unknown. Yet Spicca spoke seriously of a possible +marriage and had gone to the length of wishing that it might be brought +about. At last Orsino spoke. + +"You say that you have a right to say what you have said," he began. "In +that case I think I have a right to ask a question which you ought to +answer. You talk of my marrying Madame d'Aranjuez. You ought to tell me +whether that is possible." + +"Possible?" cried Spicca almost angrily. "What do you mean?" + +"I mean this. You know us all, as you know me. You know the enormous +prejudices in which we are brought up. You know perfectly well that +although I am ready to laugh at some of them, there are others at which +I do not laugh. Yet you refused to tell me who Madame d'Aranjuez was, +when I asked you, the other day. I do not even know her father's name, +much less her mother's--" + +"No," answered Spicca. "That is quite true, and I see no necessity for +telling you either. But, as you say, you have some right to ask. I will +tell you this much. There is nothing in the circumstances of her birth +which could hinder her marriage into any honourable family. Does that +satisfy you?" + +Orsino saw that whether he were satisfied or not he was to get no +further information for the present. He might believe Spicca's statement +or not, as he pleased, but he knew that whatever the peculiarities of +the melancholy old duellist's character might be, he never took the +trouble to invent a falsehood and was as ready as ever to support his +words. On this occasion no one could have doubted him, for there was an +unusual ring of sincere feeling in what he said. Orsino could not help +wondering what the tie between him and Madame d'Aranjuez could be, for +it evidently had the power to make Spicca submit without complaint to +something worse than ordinary unkindness and to make him defend on all +occasions the name and character of the woman who treated him so +harshly. It must be a very close bond, Orsino thought. Spicca acted very +much like a man who loves very sincerely and quite hopelessly. There was +something very sad in the idea that he perhaps loved Maria Consuelo, at +his age, broken down as he was, and old before his time. The contrast +between them was so great that it must have been grotesque if it had not +been pathetic. + +Little more passed between the two men on that day, before they +separated. To Spicca, Orsino seemed indifferent, and the older man's +reticence after his sudden outburst did not tend to prolong the meeting. + +Orsino went in search of Contini and explained what was needed of him. +He was to make a brief list of desirable apartments to let and was to +accompany Madame d'Aranjuez on the following morning in order to see +them. + +Contini was delighted and set out about the work at once. Perhaps he +secretly hoped that the lady might be induced to take a part of one of +the new houses, but the idea had nothing to do with his satisfaction. He +was to spend several hours in the sole society of a lady, of a genuine +lady who was, moreover, young and beautiful. He read the little morning +paper too assiduously not to have noticed the name and pondered over the +descriptions of Madame d'Aranjuez on the many occasions when she had +been mentioned by the reporters during the previous year. He was too +young and too thoroughly Italian not to appreciate the good fortune +which now fell into his way, and he promised himself a morning of +uninterrupted enjoyment. He wondered whether the lady could be induced, +by excessive fatigue and thirst to accept a water ice at Nazzari's, and +he planned his list of apartments in such a way as to bring her to the +neighbourhood of the Piazza di Spagna at an hour when the proposition, +might seem most agreeable and natural. + +Orsino stayed in the office during the hot September morning, busying +himself with the endless details of which he was now master, and +thinking from time to time of Maria Consuelo. He intended to go and see +her in the afternoon, and he, like Contini, planned what he should do +and say. But his plans were all unsatisfactory, and once he found +himself staring at the blank wall opposite his table in a state of idle +abstraction long unfamiliar to him. + +Soon after twelve o'clock, Contini came back, hot and radiant. Maria +Consuelo had refused the water ice, but the charm of her manner had +repaid the architect for the disappointment. Orsino asked whether she +had decided upon any dwelling. + +"She has taken the apartment in the Palazzo Barberini," answered +Contini. "I suppose she will bring her family in the autumn." + +"Her family? She has none. She is alone." + +"Alone in that place! How rich she must be!" Contini found the remains +of a cigar somewhere and lighted it thoughtfully. + +"I do not know whether she is rich or not," said Orsino. "I never +thought about it." + +He began to work at his books again, while Contini sat down and fanned +himself with a bundle of papers. + +"She admires you very much, Don Orsino," said the latter, after a pause. +Orsino looked up sharply. + +"What do you mean by that?" he asked. + +"I mean that she talked of nothing but you, and in the most flattering +way." + +In the oddly close intimacy which had grown up between the two men it +did not seem strange that Orsino should smile at speeches which he would +not have liked if they had come from any one but the poor architect. + +"What did she say?" he asked with idle curiosity. + +"She said it was wonderful to think what you had done. That of all the +Roman princes you were the only one who had energy and character enough +to throw over the old prejudices and take an occupation. That it was all +the more creditable because you had done it from moral reasons and not +out of necessity or love of money. And she said a great many other +things of the same kind." + +"Oh!" ejaculated Orsino, looking at the wall opposite. + +"It is a pity she is a widow," observed Contini. + +"Why?" + +"She would make such a beautiful princess." + +"You must be mad, Contini!" exclaimed Orsino, half-pleased and +half-irritated. "Do not talk of such follies." + +"All well! Forgive me," answered the architect a little humbly. "I am +not you, you know, and my head is not yours--nor my name--nor my heart +either." + +Contini sighed, puffed at his cigar and took up some papers. He was +already a little in love with Maria Consuelo, and the idea that any man +might marry her if he pleased, but would not, was incomprehensible to +him. + +The day wore on. Orsino finished his work as thoroughly as though he +had been a paid clerk, put everything in order and went away. Late in +the afternoon he went to see Maria Consuelo. He knew that she would +usually be already out at that hour, and he fancied that he was leaving +something to chance in the matter of finding her, though an +unacknowledged instinct told him that she would stay at home after the +fatigue of the morning. + +"We shall not be interrupted by Count Spicca to-day," she said, as he +sat down beside her. + +In spite of what he knew, the hard tone of her voice roused again in +Orsino that feeling of pity for the old man which he had felt on the +previous day. + +"Does it not seem to you," he asked, "that if you receive him at all, +you might at least conceal something of your hatred for him?" + +"Why should I? Have you forgotten what I told you yesterday?" + +"It would be hard to forget that, though you told me no details. But it +is not easy to imagine how you can see him at all if he killed your +husband deliberately in a duel." + +"It is impossible to put the case more plainly!" exclaimed Maria +Consuelo. + +"Do I offend you?" + +"No. Not exactly." + +"Forgive me, if I do. If Spicca, as I suppose, was the unwilling cause +of your great loss, he is much to be pitied. I am not sure that he does +not deserve almost as much pity as you do." + +"How can you say that--even if the rest were true?" + +"Think of what he must suffer. He is devotedly attached to you." + +"I know he is. You have told me that before, and I have given you the +same answer. I want neither his attachment nor his devotion." + +"Then refuse to see him." + +"I cannot." + +"We come back to the same point again," said Orsino. + +"We always shall, if you talk about this. There is no other issue. +Things are what they are and I cannot change them." + +"Do you know," said Orsino, "that all this mystery is a very serious +hindrance to friendship?" + +Maria Consuelo was silent for a moment. + +"Is it?" she asked presently. "Have you always thought so?" + +The question was a hard one to answer. + +"You have always seemed mysterious to me," answered Orsino. "Perhaps +that is a great attraction. But instead of learning the truth about you, +I am finding out that there are more and more secrets in your life which +I must not know." + +"Why should you know them?" + +"Because--" Orsino checked himself, almost with a start. + +He was annoyed at the words which had been so near his lips, for he had +been on the point of saying "because I love you"--and he was intimately +convinced that he did not love her. He could not in the least understand +why the phrase was so ready to be spoken. Could it be, he asked himself, +that Maria Consuelo was trying to make him say the words, and that her +will, with her question, acted directly on his mind? He scouted the +thought as soon as it presented itself, not only for its absurdity, but +because it shocked some inner sensibility. + +"What were you going to say?" asked Madame d'Aranjuez almost carelessly. + +"Something that is best not said," he answered. + +"Then I am glad you did not say it." + +She spoke quietly and unaffectedly. It needed little divination on her +part to guess what the words might have been. Even if she wished them +spoken, she would not have them spoken too lightly, for she had heard +his love speeches before, when they had meant very little. + +Orsino suddenly turned the subject, as though he felt unsure of himself. +He asked her about the result of her search, in the morning. She +answered that she had determined to take the apartment in the Palazzo +Barberini. + +"I believe it is a very large place," observed Orsino, indifferently. + +"Yes," she answered in the same tone. "I mean to receive this winter. +But it will be a tiresome affair to furnish such a wilderness." + +"I suppose you mean to establish yourself in Rome for several years." +His face expressed a satisfaction of which he was hardly conscious +himself. Maria Consuelo noticed it. + +"You seem pleased," she said. + +"How could I possibly not be?" he asked. + +Then he was silent. All his own words seemed to him to mean too much or +too little. He wished she would choose some subject of conversation and +talk that he might listen. But she also was unusually silent. + +He cut his visit short, very suddenly, and left her, saying that he +hoped to find her at home as a general rule at that hour, quite +forgetting that she would naturally be always out at the cool time +towards evening. + +He walked slowly homewards in the dusk, and did not remember to go to +his solitary dinner until nearly nine o'clock. He was not pleased with +himself, but he was involuntarily pleased by something he felt and would +not have been insensible to if he had been given the choice. His old +interest in Maria Consuelo was reviving, and yet was turning into +something very different from what it had been. + +He now boldly denied to himself that he was in love and forced himself +to speculate concerning the possibilities of friendship. In his young +system, it was absurd to suppose that a man could fall in love a second +time with the same woman. He scoffed at himself, at the idea and at his +own folly, having all the time a consciousness amounting to certainty, +of something very real and serious, by no means to be laughed at, +overlooked nor despised. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +It was to be foreseen that Orsino and Maria Consuelo would see each +other more often and more intimately now than ever before. Apart from +the strong mutual attraction which drew them nearer and nearer together, +there were many new circumstances which rendered Orsino's help almost +indispensable to his friend. The details of her installation in the +apartment she had chosen were many, there was much to be thought of and +there were enormous numbers of things to be bought, almost each needing +judgment and discrimination in the choice. Had the two needed reasonable +excuses for meeting very often they had them ready to their hand. But +neither of them were under any illusion, and neither cared to affect +that peculiar form of self-forgiveness which finds good reasons always +for doing what is always pleasant. Orsino, indeed, never pressed his +services and was careful not to be seen too often in public with Maria +Consuelo by the few acquaintances who were in town. Nor did Madame +d'Aranjuez actually ask his help at every turn, any more than she made +any difficulty about accepting it. There was a tacit understanding +between them which did away with all necessity for inventing excuses on +the one hand, or for the affectation of fearing to inconvenience Orsino +on the other. During some time, however, the subjects which both knew to +be dangerous were avoided, with an unspoken mutual consent for which +Maria Consuelo was more grateful than for all the trouble Orsino was +giving himself on her account. She fancied, perhaps, that he had at last +accepted the situation, and his society gave her too much happiness to +allow of her asking whether his discretion would or could last long. + +It was an anomalous relation which bound them together, as is often the +case at some period during the development of a passion, and most often +when the absence of obstacles makes the growth of affection slow and +regular. It was a period during which a new kind of intimacy began to +exist, as far removed from the half-serious, half-jesting intercourse of +earlier days as it was from the ultimate happiness to which all those +who love look forward with equal trust, although few ever come near it +and fewer still can ever reach it quite. It was outwardly a sort of +frank comradeship which took a vast deal for granted on both sides for +the mere sake of escaping analysis, a condition in which each understood +all that the other said, while neither quite knew what was in the +other's heart, a state in which both were pleased to dwell for a time, +as though preferring to prolong a sure if imperfect happiness rather +than risk one moment of it for the hope of winning a life-long joy. It +was a time during which mere friendship reached an artificially perfect +beauty, like a summer fruit grown under glass in winter, which in +thoroughly unnatural conditions attains a development almost impossible +even where unhelped nature is most kind. Both knew, perhaps, that it +could not last, but neither wished it checked, and neither liked to +think of the moment when it must either begin to wither by degrees, or +be suddenly absorbed into a greater and more dangerous growth. + +At that time they were able to talk fluently upon the nature of the +human heart and the durability of great affections. They propounded the +problems of the world and discussed them between the selection of a +carpet and the purchase of a table. They were ready at any moment to +turn from the deepest conversation to the consideration of the merest +detail, conscious that they could instantly take up the thread of their +talk. They could separate the major proposition from the minor, and the +deduction from both, by a lively argument concerning the durability of a +stuff or the fitness of a piece of furniture, and they came back each +time with renewed and refreshed interest to the consideration of matters +little less grave than the resurrection of the dead and the life of the +world to come. That their conclusions were not always logical nor even +very sensible has little to do with the matter. On the contrary, the +discovery of a flaw in their own reasoning was itself a reason for +opening the question again at their next meeting. + +At first their conversation was of general things, including the +desirability of glory for its own sake, the immortality of the soul and +the principles of architecture. Orsino was often amazed to find himself +talking, and, as he fancied, talking well, upon subjects of which he had +hitherto supposed with some justice that he knew nothing. By and by they +fell upon literature and dissected the modern novel with the keen zest +of young people who seek to learn the future secrets of their own lives +from vivid descriptions of the lives of others. Their knowledge of the +modern novel was not so limited as their acquaintance with many other +things less amusing, if more profitable, and they worked the vein with +lively energy and mutual satisfaction. + +Then, as always, came the important move. They began to talk of love. +The interest ceased to be objective or in any way vicarious and was +transferred directly to themselves. + +These steps are not, I think, to be ever thought of as stages in the +development of character in man or woman. They are phases in the +intercourse of man and woman. Clever people know them well and know how +to produce them at will. The end may or may not be love, but an end of +some sort is inevitable. According to the persons concerned, according +to circumstances, according to the amount of available time, the +progression from general subjects to the discussion of love, with +self-application of the conclusions, more or less sincere, may occupy an +hour, a month or a year. Love is the one subject which ultimately +attracts those not too old to talk about it, and those who consider that +they have reached such an age are few. + +In the case of Orsino and Maria Consuelo, neither of the two was making +any effort to lead up to a certain definite result, for both felt a real +dread of reaching that point which is ever afterwards remembered as the +last moment of hardly sustained friendship and the first of something +stronger and too often less happy. Orsino was inexperienced, but Maria +Consuelo was quite conscious of the tendency in a fixed direction. +Whether she had made up her mind, or not, she tried as skilfully as she +could to retard the movement, for she was very happy in the present and +probably feared the first stirring of her own ardently passionate +nature. + +As for Orsino, indeed, his inexperience was relative. He was anxious to +believe that he was only her friend, and pretended to his own conscience +that he could not explain the frequency with which the words "I love +you" presented themselves. The desire to speak them was neither a +permanent impulse of which he was always conscious nor a sudden strong +emotion like a temptation, giving warning of itself by a few heart-beats +before it reached its strength. The words came to his lips so naturally +and unexpectedly that he often wondered how he saved himself from +pronouncing them. It was impossible for him to foresee when they would +crave utterance. At last he began to fancy that they rang in his mind +without a reason and without a wish on his part to speak them, as a +perfectly indifferent tune will ring in the ear for days so that one +cannot get rid of it. + +Maria Consuelo had not intended to spend September and October +altogether in Rome. She had supposed that it would be enough to choose +her apartment and give orders to some person about the furnishing of it +to her taste, and that after that she might go to the seaside until the +heat should be over, coming up to the city from time to time as occasion +required. But she seemed to have changed her mind. She did not even +suggest the possibility of going away. + +She generally saw Orsino in the afternoon. He found no difficulty in +making time to see her, whenever he could be useful, but his own +business naturally occupied all the earlier part of the day. As a rule, +therefore, he called between half-past four and five, and so soon as it +was cool enough they went together to the Palazzo Barberini to see what +progress the upholsterers were making and to consider matters of taste. +The great half-furnished rooms with the big windows overlooking the +little garden before the palace were pleasant to sit in and wander in +during the hot September afternoons. The pair were not often quite +alone, even for a quarter of an hour, the place being full of workmen +who came and went, passed and repassed, as their occupations required, +often asking for orders and probably needing more supervision than Maria +Consuelo bestowed upon them. + +On a certain evening late in September the two were together in the +large drawing-room. Maria Consuelo was tired and was leaning back in a +deep seat, her hands folded upon her knee, watching Orsino as he slowly +paced the carpet, crossing and recrossing in his short walk, his face +constantly turned towards her. It was excessively hot. The air was +sultry with thunder, and though it was past five o'clock the windows +were still closely shut to keep out the heat. A clear, soft light filled +the room, not reflected from a burning pavement, but from grass and +plashing water. + +They had been talking of a chimneypiece which Maria Consuelo wished to +have placed in the hall. The style of what she wanted suggested the +sixteenth century, Henry Second of France, Diana of Poitiers and the +durability of the affections. The transition from fireplaces to true +love had been accomplished with comparative ease, the result of daily +practice and experience. It is worth noting, for the benefit of the +young, that furniture is an excellent subject for conversation for that +very reason, nothing being simpler than to go in three minutes from a +table to an epoch, from an epoch to an historical person and from that +person to his or her love story. A young man would do well to associate +the life of some famous lover or celebrated and unhappy beauty with +each style of woodwork and upholstery. It is always convenient. But if +he has not the necessary preliminary knowledge he may resort to a +stratagem. + +"What a comfortable chair!" says he, as he deposits his hat on the floor +and sits down. + +"Do you like comfortable chairs?" + +"Of course. Fancy what life was in the days of stiff wooden seats, when +you had to carry a cushion about with you. You know that sort of +thing--twelfth century, Francesca da Rimini and all that." + +"Poor Francesca!" + +If she does not say "Poor Francesca!" as she probably will, you can say +it yourself, very feelingly and in a different tone, after a short +pause. The one kiss which cost two lives makes the story particularly +useful. And then the ice is broken. If Paolo and Francesca had not been +murdered, would they have loved each other for ever? As nobody knows +what they would have done, you can assert that they would have been +faithful or not, according to your taste, humour or personal intentions. +Then you can talk about the husband, whose very hasty conduct +contributed so materially to the shortness of the story. If you wish to +be thought jealous, you say he was quite right; if you desire to seem +generous, you say with equal conviction that he was quite wrong. And so +forth. Get to generalities as soon as possible in order to apply them to +your own case. + +Orsino and Maria Consuelo were the guileless victims of furniture, +neither of them being acquainted with the method just set forth for the +instruction of the innocent. They fell into their own trap and wondered +how they had got from mantelpieces to hearts in such an incredibly short +time. + +"It is quite possible to love twice," Orsino was saying. + +"That depends upon what you mean by love," answered Maria Consuelo, +watching him with half-closed eyes. + +Orsino laughed. + +"What I mean by love? I suppose I mean very much what other people mean +by it--or a little more," he added, and the slight change in his voice +pleased her. + +"Do you think that any two understand the same thing when they speak of +love?" she asked. + +"We two might," he answered, resuming his indifferent tone. "After all, +we have talked so much together during the last month that we ought to +understand each other." + +"Yes," said Maria Consuelo. "And I think we do," she added thoughtfully. + +"Then why should we think differently about the same thing? But I am not +going to try and define love. It is not easily defined, and I am not +clever enough." He laughed again. "There are many illnesses which I +cannot define--but I know that one may have them twice." + +"There are others which one can only have once--dangerous ones, too." + +"I know it. But that has nothing to do with the argument." + +"I think it has--if this is an argument at all." + +"No. Love is not enough like an illness--it is quite the contrary. It is +a recovery from an unnatural state--that of not loving. One may fall +into that state and recover from it more than once." + +"What a sophism!" + +"Why do you say that? Do you think that not to love is the normal +condition of mankind?" + +Maria Consuelo was silent, still watching him. + +"You have nothing to say," he continued, stopping and standing before +her. "There is nothing to be said. A man or woman who does not love is +in an abnormal state. When he or she falls in love it is a recovery. One +may recover so long as the heart has enough vitality. Admit it--for you +must. It proves that any properly constituted person may love twice, at +least." + +"There is an idea of faithlessness in it, nevertheless," said Maria +Consuelo, thoughtfully. "Or if it is not faithless, it is fickle. It is +not the same to oneself to love twice. One respects oneself less." + +"I cannot believe that." + +"We all ought to believe it. Take a case as an instance. A woman loves a +man with all her heart, to the point of sacrificing very much for him. +He loves her in the same way. In spite of the strongest opposition, they +agree to be married. On the very day of the marriage he is taken from +her--for ever--loving her as he has always loved her, and as he would +always have loved her had he lived. What would such a woman feel, if she +found herself forgetting such a love as that after two or three years, +for another man? Do you think she would respect herself more or less? Do +you think she would have the right to call herself a faithful woman?" + +Orsino was silent for a moment, seeing that she meant herself by the +example. She, indeed, had only told him that her husband had been +killed, but Spicca had once said of her that she had been married to a +man who had never been her husband. + +"A memory is one thing--real life is quite another," said Orsino at +last, resuming his walk. + +"And to be faithful cannot possibly mean to be faithless," answered +Maria Consuelo in a low voice. + +She rose and went to one of the windows. She must have wished to hide +her face, for the outer blinds and the glass casement were both shut and +she could see nothing but the green light that struck the painted wood. +Orsino went to her side. + +"Shall I open the window?" he asked in a constrained voice. + +"No--not yet. I thought I could see out." + +Still she stood where she was, her face almost touching the pane, one +small white hand resting upon the glass, the fingers moving restlessly. + +"You meant yourself, just now," said Orsino softly. + +She neither spoke nor moved, but her face grew pale. Then he fancied +that there was a hardly perceptible movement of her head, the merest +shade of an inclination. He leaned a little towards her, resting against +the marble sill of the window. + +"And you meant something more--" he began to say. Then he stopped short. + +His heart was beating hard and the hot blood throbbed in his temples, +his lips closed tightly and his breathing was audible. + +Maria Consuelo turned her head, glanced at him quickly and instantly +looked back at the smooth glass before her and at the green light on the +shutters without. He was scarcely conscious that she had moved. In love, +as in a storm at sea, matters grow very grave in a few moments. + +"You meant that you might still--" Again he stopped. The words would not +come. + +He fancied that she would not speak. She could not, any more than she +could have left his side at that moment. The air was very sultry even in +the cool, closed room. The green light on the shutters darkened +suddenly. Then a far distant peal of thunder rolled its echoes slowly +over the city. Still neither moved from the window. + +"If you could--" Orsino's voice was low and soft, but there was +something strangely overwrought in the nervous quality of it. It was not +hesitation any longer that made him stop. + +"Could you love me?" he asked. He thought he spoke aloud. When he had +spoken, he knew that he had whispered the words. + +His face was colourless. He heard a short, sharp breath, drawn like a +gasp. The small white hand fell from the window and gripped his own with +sudden, violent strength. Neither spoke. Another peal of thunder, nearer +and louder, shook the air. Then Orsino heard the quick-drawn breath +again, and the white hand went nervously to the fastening of the window. +Orsino opened the casement and thrust back the blinds. There was a vivid +flash, more thunder, and a gust of stifling wind. Maria Consuelo leaned +far out, looking up, and a few great drops of rain, began to fall. + +The storm burst and the cold rain poured down furiously, wetting the two +white faces at the window. Maria Consuelo drew back a little, and Orsino +leaned against the open casement, watching her. It was as though the +single pressure of their hands had crushed out the power of speech for a +time. + +For weeks they had talked daily together during many hours. They could +not foresee that at the great moment there would be nothing left for +them to say. The rain fell in torrents and the gusty wind rose and +buffeted the face of the great palace with roaring strength, to sink +very suddenly an instant later in the steadily rushing noise of the +water, springing up again without warning, rising and falling, falling +and rising, like a great sobbing breath. The wind and the rain seemed to +be speaking for the two who listened to it. + +Orsino watched Maria Consuelo's face, not scrutinising it, nor realising +very much whether it were beautiful or not, nor trying to read the +thoughts that were half expressed in it--not thinking at all, indeed, +but only loving it wholly and in every part for the sake of the woman +herself, as he had never dreamed of loving any one or anything. + +At last Maria Consuelo turned very slowly and looked into his eyes. The +passionate sadness faded out of the features, the faint colour rose +again, the full lips relaxed, the smile that came was full of a +happiness that seemed almost divine. + +"I cannot help it," she said. + +"Can I?" + +"Truly?" + +Her hand was lying on the marble ledge. Orsino laid his own upon it, and +both trembled a little. She understood more than any word could have +told her. + +"For how long?" she asked. + +"For all our lives now, and for all our life hereafter." + +He raised her hand to his lips, bending his head, and then he drew her +from the window, and they walked slowly up and down the great room. + +"It is very strange," she said presently, in a low voice. + +"That I should love you?" + +"Yes. Where were we an hour ago? What is become of that old time--that +was an hour ago?" + +"I have forgotten, dear--that was in the other life." + +"The other life! Yes--how unhappy I was--there, by that window, a +hundred years ago!" + +She laughed softly, and Orsino smiled as he looked down at her. + +"Are you happy now?" + +"Do not ask me--how could I tell you?" + +"Say it to yourself, love--I shall see it in your dear face." + +"Am I not saying it?" + +Then they were silent again, walking side by side, their arms locked and +pressing one another. + +It began to dawn upon Orsino that a great change had come into his life, +and he thought of the consequences of what he was doing. He had not said +that he was happy, but in the first moment he had felt it more than she. +The future, however, would not be like the present, and could not be a +perpetual continuation of it. Orsino was not at all of a romantic +disposition, and the practical side of things was always sure to present +itself to his mind very early in any affair. It was a part of his nature +and by no means hindered him from feeling deeply and loving sincerely. +But it shortened his moments of happiness. + +"Do you know what this means to you and me?" he asked, after a time. + +Maria Consuelo started very slightly and looked up at him. + +"Let us think of to-morrow--to-morrow," she said. Her voice trembled a +little. + +"Is it so hard to think of?" asked Orsino, fearing lest he had +displeased her. + +"Very hard," she answered, in a low voice. + +"Not for me. Why should it be? If anything can make to-day more +complete, it is to think that to-morrow will be more perfect, and the +next day still more, and so on, each day better than the one before it." + +Maria Consuelo shook her head. + +"Do not speak of it," she said. + +"Will you not love me to-morrow?" Orsino asked. The light in his face +told how little earnestly he asked the question, but she turned upon him +quickly. + +"Do you doubt yourself, that you should doubt me?" There was a ring of +terror in the words that startled him as he heard them. + +"Beloved--no--how can you think I meant it?" + +"Then do not say it." She shivered a little, and bent down her head. + +"No--I will not. But--dear--do you know where we are?" + +"Where we are?" she repeated, not understanding. + +"Yes--where we are. This was to have been your home this year." + +"Was to have been?" A frightened look came into her face. + +"It will not be, now. Your home is not in this house." + +Again she shook her head, turning her face away. + +"It must be," she said. + +Orsino was surprised beyond expression by the answer. + +"Either you do not know what you are saying, or you do not mean it, +dear," he said. "Or else you will not understand me." + +"I understand you too well." + +Orsino made her stop and took both her hands, looking down into her +eyes. + +"You will marry me," he said. + +"I cannot marry you," she answered. + +Her face grew even paler than it had been when they had stood at the +window, and so full of pain and sadness that it hurt Orsino to look at +it. But the words she spoke, in her clear, distinct tones, struck him +like a blow unawares. He knew that she loved him, for her love was in +every look and gesture, without attempt at concealment. He believed her +to be a good woman. He was certain that her husband was dead. He could +not understand, and he grew suddenly angry. An older man would have done +worse, or a man less in earnest. + +"You must have a reason to give me--and a good one," he said gravely. + +"I have." + +She turned slowly away and began to walk alone. He followed her. + +"You must tell it," he said. + +"Tell it? Yes, I will tell it to you. It is a solemn promise before God, +given to a man who died in my arms--to my husband. Would you have me +break such a vow?" + +"Yes." Orsino drew a long breath. The objection seemed insignificant +enough compared with the pain it had cost him before it had been +explained. + +"Such promises are not binding," he continued, after a moment's pause. +"Such a promise is made hastily, rashly, without a thought of the +consequences. You have no right to keep it." + +"No right? Orsino, what are you saying! Is not an oath an oath, however +it is taken? Is not a vow made ten times more sacred when the one for +whom it was taken is gone? Is there any difference between my promise +and that made before the altar by a woman who gives up the world? Should +I be any better, if I broke mine, than the nun who broke hers?" + +"You cannot be in earnest?" exclaimed Orsino in a low voice. + +Maria Consuelo did not answer. She went towards the window and looked at +the splashing rain. Orsino stood where he was, watching her. Suddenly +she came back and stood before him. + +"We must undo this," she said. + +"What do you mean?" He understood well enough. + +"You know. We must not love each other. We must undo to-day and forget +it." + +"If you can talk so lightly of forgetting, you have little to remember," +answered Orsino almost roughly. + +"You have no right to say that." + +"I have the right of a man who loves you." + +"The right to be unjust?" + +"I am not unjust." His tone softened again. "I know what it means, to +say that I love you--it is my life, this love. I have known it a long +time. It has been on my lips to say it for weeks, and since it has been +said, it cannot be unsaid. A moment ago you told me not to doubt you. I +do not. And now you say that we must not love each other, as though we +had a choice to make--and why? Because you once made a rash promise--" + +"Hush!" interrupted Maria Consuelo. "You must not--" + +"I must and will. You made a promise, as though you had a right at such +a moment to dispose of all your life--I do not speak of mine--as though +you could know what the world held for you, and could renounce it all +beforehand. I tell you you had no right to make such an oath, and a vow +taken without the right to take it is no vow at all--" + +"It is--it is! I cannot break it!" + +"If you love me you will. But you say we are to forget. Forget! It is so +easy to say. How shall we do it?" + +"I will go away--" + +"If you have the heart to go away, then go. But I will follow you. The +world is very small, they say--it will not be hard for me to find you, +wherever you are." + +"If I beg you--if I ask it as the only kindness, the only act of +friendship, the only proof of your love--you will not come--you will not +do that--" + +"I will, if it costs your soul and mine." + +"Orsino! You do not mean it--you see how unhappy I am, how I am trying +to do right, how hard it is!" + +"I see that you are trying to ruin both our lives. I will not let you. +Besides, you do not mean it." + +Maria Consuelo looked into his eyes and her own grew deep and dark. Then +as though she felt herself yielding, she turned away and sat down in a +chair that stood apart from the rest. Orsino followed her, and tried to +take her hand, bending down to meet her downcast glance. + +"You do not mean it, Consuelo," he said earnestly. "You do not mean one +hundredth part of what you say." + +She drew her fingers from his, and turned her head sideways against the +back of the chair so that she could not see him. He still bent over her, +whispering into her ear. + +"You cannot go," he said. "You will not try to forget--for neither you +nor I can--nor ought, cost what it might. You will not destroy what is +so much to us--you would not, if you could. Look at me, love--do not +turn away. Let me see it all in your eyes, all the truth of it and of +every word I say." + +Still she turned her face from him. But she breathed quickly with parted +lips and the colour rose slowly in her pale cheeks. + +"It must be sweet to be loved as I love you, dear," he said, bending +still lower and closer to her. "It must be some happiness to know that +you are so loved. Is there so much joy in your life that you can despise +this? There is none in mine, without you, nor ever can be unless we are +always together--always, dear, always, always." + +She moved a little, and the drooping lids lifted almost imperceptibly. + +"Do not tempt me, dear one," she said in a faint voice. "Let me go--let +me go." + +Orsino's dark face was close to hers now, and she could see his bright +eyes. Once she tried to look away, and could not. Again she tried, +lifting her head from the cushioned chair. But his arm went round her +neck and her cheek rested upon his shoulder. + +"Go, love," he said softly, pressing her more closely. "Go--let us not +love each other. It is so easy not to love." + +She looked up into his eyes again with a sudden shiver, and they both +grew very pale. For ten seconds neither spoke nor moved. Then their lips +met. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +When Orsino was alone that night, he asked himself more than one +question which he did not find it easy to answer. He could define, +indeed, the relation in which he now stood to Maria Consuelo, for though +she had ultimately refused to speak the words of a promise, he no longer +doubted that she meant to be his wife and that her scruples were +overcome for ever. This was, undeniably, the most important point in the +whole affair, so far as his own satisfaction was concerned, but there +were others of the gravest import to be considered and elucidated before +he could even weigh the probabilities of future happiness. + +He had not lost his head on the present occasion, as he had formerly +done when his passion had been anything but sincere. He was perfectly +conscious that Maria Consuelo was now the principal person concerned in +his life and that the moment would inevitably have come, sooner or +later, in which he must have told her so as he had done on this day. He +had not yielded to a sudden impulse, but to a steady and growing +pressure from which there had been no means of escape, and which he had +not sought to elude. He was not in one of those moods of half-senseless, +exuberant spirits, such as had come upon him more than once during the +winter after he had been an hour in her society and had said or done +something more than usually rash. On the contrary, he was inclined to +look the whole situation soberly in the face, and to doubt whether the +love which dominated him might not prove a source of unhappiness to +Maria Consuelo as well as to himself. At the same time he knew that it +would be useless to fight against that domination, for he knew that he +was now absolutely sincere. + +But the difficulties to be met and overcome were many and great. He +might have betrothed himself to almost any woman in society, widow or +spinster, without anticipating one hundredth part of the opposition +which he must now certainly encounter. He was not even angry beforehand +with the prejudice which would animate his father and mother, for he +admitted that it was hardly a prejudice at all, and certainly not one +peculiar to them, or to their class. It would be hard to find a family, +anywhere, of any respectability, no matter how modest, that would accept +without question such a choice as he had made. Maria Consuelo was one of +those persons about whom the world is ready to speak in disparagement, +knowing that it will not be easy to find defenders for them. The world +indeed, loves its own and treats them with consideration, especially in +the matter of passing follies, and after it had been plain to society +that Orsino had fallen under Maria Consuelo's charm, he had heard no +more disagreeable remarks about her origin nor the circumstances of her +widowhood. But he remembered what had been said before that, when he +himself had listened indifferently enough, and he guessed that +ill-natured people called her an adventuress or little better. If +anything could have increased the suffering which this intuitive +knowledge caused him, it was the fact that he possessed no proof of her +right to rank with the best, except his own implicit faith in her, and +the few words Spicca had chosen to let fall. Spicca was still thought so +dangerous that people hesitated to contradict him openly, but his mere +assertion, Orsino thought, though it might be accepted in appearance, +was not of enough weight to carry inward conviction with it in the +minds of people who had no interest in being convinced. It was only too +plain that, unless Maria Consuelo, or Spicca, or both, were willing to +tell the strange story in its integrity, there were not proof enough to +convince the most willing person of her right to the social position she +occupied after that had once been called into question. To Orsino's mind +the very fact that it had been questioned at all demonstrated +sufficiently a carelessness on her own part which could only proceed +from the certainty of possessing that right beyond dispute. It would +doubtless have been possible for her to provide herself from the first +with something in the nature of a guarantee for her identity. She could +surely have had the means, through some friend of her own elsewhere, of +making the acquaintance of some one in society, who would have vouched +for her and silenced the carelessly spiteful talk concerning her which +had gone the rounds when she first appeared. But she had seemed to be +quite indifferent. She had refused Orsino's pressing offer to bring her +into relations with his mother, whose influence would have been enough +to straighten a reputation far more doubtful than Maria Consuelo's, and +she had almost wilfully thrown herself into a sort of intimacy with the +Countess Del Ferice. + +But Orsino, as he thought of these matters, saw how futile such +arguments must seem to his own people, and how absurdly inadequate they +were to better his own state of mind, since he needed no conviction +himself but sought the means of convincing others. One point alone gave +him some hope. Under the existing laws the inevitable legal marriage +would require the production of documents which would clear the whole +story at once. On the other hand, that fact could make Orsino's position +no easier with his father and mother until the papers were actually +produced. People cannot easily be married secretly in Rome, where the +law requires the publication of banns by posting them upon the doors of +the Capitol, and the name of Orsino Saracinesca would not be easily +overlooked. Orsino was aware of course that he was not in need of his +parents' consent for his marriage, but he had not been brought up in a +way to look upon their acquiescence as unnecessary. He was deeply +attached to them both, but especially to his mother who had been his +staunch friend in his efforts to do something for himself, and to whom +he naturally looked for sympathy if not for actual help. However certain +he might be of the ultimate result of his marriage, the idea of being +married in direct opposition to her wishes was so repugnant to him as to +be almost an insurmountable barrier. He might, indeed, and probably +would, conceal his engagement for some time, but solely with the +intention of so preparing the evidence in favour of it as to make it +immediately acceptable to his father and mother when announced. + +It seemed possible that, if he could bring Maria Consuelo to see the +matter as he saw it, she might at once throw aside her reticence and +furnish him with the information he so greatly needed. But it would be a +delicate matter to bring her to that point of view, unconscious as she +must be of her equivocal position. He could not go to her and tell her +that in order to announce their engagement he must be able to tell the +world who and what she really was. The most he could do would be to tell +her exactly what papers were necessary for her marriage and to prevail +upon her to procure them as soon as possible, or to hand them to him at +once if they were already in her possession. But in order to require +even this much of her, it was necessary to push matters farther than +they had yet gone. He had certainly pledged himself to her, and he +firmly believed that she considered herself bound to him. But beyond +that, nothing definite had passed. + +They had been interrupted by the entrance of workmen asking for orders, +and he had thought that Maria Consuelo had seemed anxious to detain the +men as long as possible. That such a scene could not be immediately +renewed where it had been broken off was clear enough, but Orsino +fancied that she had not wished even to attempt a renewal of it. He had +taken her home in the dusk, and she had refused to let him enter the +hotel with her. She said that she wished to be alone, and he had been +fain to be satisfied with the pressure of her hand and the look in her +eyes, which both said much while not saying half of what he longed to +hear and know. + +He would see her, of course, at the usual hour on the following day, and +he determined to speak plainly and strongly. She could not ask him to +prolong such a state of uncertainty. Considering how gradual the steps +had been which had led up to what had taken place on that rainy +afternoon it was not conceivable, he thought, that she would still ask +for time to make up her mind. She would at least consent to some +preliminary agreement upon a line of conduct for both to follow. + +But impossible as the other case seemed, Orsino did not neglect it. His +mind was developing with his character and was acquiring the habit of +foreseeing difficulties in order to forestall them. If Maria Consuelo +returned suddenly to her original point of view maintaining that the +promise given to her dying husband was still binding, Orsino determined +that he would go to Spicca in a last resort. Whatever the bond which +united them, it was clear that Spicca possessed some kind of power over +Maria Consuelo, and that he was so far acquainted with all the +circumstances of her previous life as to be eminently capable of giving +Orsino advice for the future. + +He went to his office on the following morning with little inclination +for work. It would be more just, perhaps, to say that he felt the desire +to pursue his usual occupation while conscious that his mind was too +much disturbed by the events of the previous afternoon to concentrate +itself upon the details of accounts and plans. He found himself +committing all sorts of errors of oversight quite unusual with him. +Figures seemed to have lost their value and plans their meaning. With +the utmost determination he held himself to his task, not willing to +believe that his judgment and nerve could be so disturbed as to render +him unfit for any serious business. But the result was contemptible as +compared with the effort. + +Andrea Contini, too, was inclined to take a gloomy view of things, +contrary to his usual habit. A report was spreading to the effect that a +certain big contractor was on the verge of bankruptcy, a man who had +hitherto been considered beyond the danger of heavy loss. There had been +more than one small failure of late, but no one had paid much attention +to such accidents which were generally attributed to personal causes +rather than to an approaching turn in the tide of speculation. But +Contini chose to believe that a crisis was not far off. He possessed in +a high degree that sort of caution which is valuable rather in an +assistant than in a chief. Orsino was little inclined to share his +architect's despondency for the present. + +"You need a change of air," he said, pushing a heap of papers away from +him and lighting a cigarette. "You ought to go down to Porto d'Anzio for +a few days. You have been too long in the heat." + +"No longer than you, Don Orsino," answered Contini, from his own table. + +"You are depressed and gloomy. You have worked harder than I. You should +really go out of town for a day or two." + +"I do not feel the need of it." + +Contini bent over his table again and a short silence followed. Orsino's +mind instantly reverted to Maria Consuelo. He felt a violent desire to +leave the office and go to her at once. There was no reason why he +should not visit her in the morning if he pleased. At the worst, she +might refuse to receive him. He was thinking how she would look, and +wondering whether she would smile or meet him with earnest half +regretful eyes, when Contini's voice broke into his meditations again. + +"You think I am despondent because I have been working too long in the +heat," said the young man, rising and beginning to pace the floor before +Orsino. "No. I am not that kind of man. I am never tired. I can go on +for ever. But affairs in Rome will not go on for ever. I tell you that, +Don Orsino. There is trouble in the air. I wish we had sold everything +and could wait. It would be much better." + +"All this is very vague, Contini." + +"It is very clear to me. Matters are going from bad to worse. There is +no doubt that Ronco has failed." + +"Well, and if he has? We are not Ronco. He was involved in all sorts of +other speculations. If he had stuck to land and building he would be as +sound as ever." + +"For another month, perhaps. Do you know why he is ruined?" + +"By his own fault, as people always are. He was rash." + +"No rasher than we are. I believe that the game is played out. Ronco is +bankrupt because the bank with which he deals cannot discount any more +bills this week." + +"And why not?" + +"Because the foreign banks will not take any more of all this paper that +is flying about. Those small failures in the summer have produced their +effect. Some of the paper was in Paris and some in Vienna. It turned out +worthless, and the foreigners have taken fright. It is all a fraud, at +best--or something very like it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Tell me the truth, Don Orsino--have you seen a centime of all these +millions which every one is dealing with? Do you believe they really +exist? No. It is all paper, paper, and more paper. There is no cash in +the business." + +"But there is land and there are houses, which represent the millions +substantially." + +"Substantially! Yes--as long as the inflation lasts. After that they +will represent nothing." + +"You are talking nonsense, Contini. Prices may fall, and some people +will lose, but you cannot destroy real estate permanently." + +"Its value may be destroyed for ten or twenty years, which is +practically the same thing when people have no other property. Take this +block we are building. It represents a large sum. Say that in the next +six months there are half a dozen failures like Ronco's and that a panic +sets in. We could then neither sell the houses nor let them. What would +they represent to us? Nothing. Failure--like the failure of everybody +else. Do you know where the millions really are? You ought to know +better than most people. They are in Casa Saracinesca and in a few other +great houses which have not dabbled in all this business, and perhaps +they are in the pockets of a few clever men who have got out of it all +in time. They are certainly not in the firm of Andrea Contini and +Company, which will assuredly be bankrupt before the winter is out." + +Contini bit his cigar savagely, thrust his hands into his pockets and +looked out of the window, turning his back on Orsino. The latter watched +his companion in surprise, not understanding why his dismal forebodings +should find such sudden and strong expression. + +"I think you exaggerate very much," said Orsino. "There is always risk +in such business as this. But it strikes me that the risk was greater +when we had less capital." + +"Capital!" exclaimed the architect contemptuously and without turning +round. "Can we draw a cheque--a plain unadorned cheque and not a +draft--for a hundred thousand francs to-day? Or shall we be able to draw +it to-morrow? Capital! We have a lot of brick and mortar in our +possession, put together more or less symmetrically according to our +taste, and practically unpaid for. If we manage to sell it in time we +shall get the difference between what is paid and what we owe. That is +our capital. It is problematical, to say the least of it. If we realise +less than we owe we are bankrupt." + +He came back suddenly to Orsino's table as he ceased speaking and his +face showed that he was really disturbed. Orsino looked at him steadily +for a few seconds. + +"It is not only Ronco's failure that frightens you, Contini. There must +be something else." + +"More of the same kind. There is enough to frighten any one." + +"No, there is something else. You have been talking with somebody." + +"With Del Ferice's confidential clerk. Yes--it is quite true. I was with +him last night." + +"And what did he say? What you have been telling me, I suppose." + +"Something much more disagreeable--something you would rather not hear." + +"I wish to hear it." + +"You should, as a matter of fact." + +"Go on." + +"We are completely in Del Ferice's hands." + +"We are in the hands of his bank." + +"What is the difference? To all intents and purposes he is our bank. The +proof is that but for him we should have failed already." + +Orsino looked up sharply. + +"Be clear, Contini. Tell me what you mean." + +"I mean this. For a month past the bank could not have discounted a +hundred francs' worth of our paper. Del Ferice has taken it all and +advanced the money out of his private account." + +"Are you sure of what you are telling me?" Orsino asked the question in +a low voice, and his brow contracted. + +"One can hardly have better authority than the clerk's own statement." + +"And he distinctly told you this, did he?" + +"Most distinctly." + +"He must have had an object in betraying such a confidence," said +Orsino. "It is not likely that such a man would carelessly tell you or +me a secret which is evidently meant to be kept." + +He spoke quietly enough, but the tone of his voice was changed and +betrayed how greatly he was moved by the news. Contini began to walk up +and down again, but did not make any answer to the remark. + +"How much do we owe the bank?" Orsino asked suddenly. + +"Roughly, about six hundred thousand." + +"How much of that paper do you think Del Ferice has taken up himself?" + +"About a quarter, I fancy, from what the clerk told me." + +A long silence followed, during which Orsino tried to review the +situation in all its various aspects. It was clear that Del Ferice did +not wish Andrea Contini and Company to fail and was putting himself to +serious inconvenience in order to avert the catastrophe. Whether he +wished, in so doing, to keep Orsino in his power, or whether he merely +desired to escape the charge of having ruined his old enemy's son out of +spite, it was hard to decide. Orsino passed over that question quickly +enough. So far as any sense of humiliation was concerned he knew very +well that his mother would be ready and able to pay off all his +liabilities at the shortest notice. What Orsino felt most deeply was +profound disappointment and utter disgust at his own folly. It seemed to +him that he had been played with and flattered into the belief that he +was a serious man of business, while all along he had been pushed and +helped by unseen hands. There was nothing to prove that Del Ferice had +not thus deceived him from the first; and, indeed, when he thought of +his small beginnings early in the year and realised the dimensions which +the business had now assumed, he could not help believing that Del +Ferice had been at the bottom of all his apparent success and that his +own earnest and ceaseless efforts had really had but little to do with +the development of his affairs. His vanity suffered terribly under the +first shock. + +He was bitterly disappointed. During the preceding months he had begun +to feel himself independent and able to stand alone, and he had looked +forward in the near future to telling his father that he had made a +fortune for himself without any man's help. He had remembered every word +of cold discouragement to which he had been forced to listen at the very +beginning, and he had felt sure of having a success to set against each +one of those words. He knew that he had not been idle and he had fancied +that every hour of work had produced its permanent result, and left him +with something more to show. He had seen his mother's pride in him +growing day by day in his apparent success, and he had been confident of +proving to her that she was not half proud enough. All that was gone in +a moment. He saw, or fancied that he saw, nothing but a series of +failures which had been bolstered up and inflated into seeming triumphs +by a man whom his father despised and hated and whom, as a man, he +himself did not respect. The disillusionment was complete. + +At first it seemed to him that there was nothing to be done but to go +directly to Saracinesca and tell the truth to his father and mother. +Financially, when the wealth of the family was taken into consideration +there was nothing very alarming in the situation. He would borrow of his +father enough to clear him with Del Ferice and would sell the unfinished +buildings for what they would bring. He might even induce his father to +help him in finishing the work. There would be no trouble about the +business question. As for Contini, he should not lose by the transaction +and permanent occupation could doubtless be found for him on one of the +estates if he chose to accept it. + +He thought of the interview and his vanity dreaded it. Another plan +suggested itself to him. On the whole, it seemed easier to bear his +dependence on Del Ferice than to confess himself beaten. There was +nothing dishonourable, nothing which could be called so at least, in +accepting financial accommodation from a man whose business it was to +lend money on security. If Del Ferice chose to advance sums which his +bank would not advance, he did it for good reasons of his own and +certainly not in the intention of losing by it in the end. In case of +failure Del Ferice would take the buildings for the debt and would +certainly in that case get them for much less than they were worth. +Orsino would be no worse off than when he had begun, he would frankly +confess that though he had lost nothing he had not made a fortune, and +the matter would be at an end. That would be very much easier to bear +than the humiliation of confessing at the present moment that he was in +Del Ferice's power and would be bankrupt but for Del Ferice's personal +help. And again he repeated to himself that Del Ferice was not a man to +throw money away without hope of recovery with interest. It was +inconceivable, too, that Ugo should have pushed him so far merely to +flatter a young man's vanity. He meant to make use of him, or to make +money out of his failure. In either case Orsino would be his dupe and +would not be under any obligation to him. Compared with the necessity of +acknowledging the present state of his affairs to his father, the +prospect of being made a tool of by Del Ferice was bearable, not to say +attractive. + +"What had we better do, Contini?" he asked at length. + +"There is nothing to be done but to go on, I suppose, until we are +ruined," replied the architect. "Even if we had the money, we should +gain nothing by taking off all our bills as they fall due, instead of +renewing them." + +"But if the bank will not discount any more--" + +"Del Ferice will, in the bank's name. When he is ready for the failure, +we shall fail and he will profit by our loss." + +"Do you think that is what he means to do?" + +Contini looked at Orsino in surprise. + +"Of course. What did you expect? You do not suppose that he means to +make us a present of that paper, or to hold it indefinitely until we can +make a good sale." + +"And he will ultimately get possession of all the paper himself." + +"Naturally. As the old bills fall due we shall renew them with him, +practically, and not with the bank. He knows what he is about. He +probably has some scheme for selling the whole block to the government, +or to some institution, and is sure of his profit beforehand. Our +failure will give him a profit of twenty-five or thirty per cent." + +Orsino was strangely reassured by his partner's gloomy view. To him +every word proved that he was free from any personal obligation to Del +Ferice and might accept the latter's assistance without the least +compunction. He did not like to remember that a man of Ugo's subtle +intelligence might have something more important in view than a profit +of a few hundred thousand francs, if indeed the sum should amount to +that. Orsino's brow cleared and his expression changed. + +"You seem to like the idea," observed Contini rather irritably. + +"I would rather be ruined by Del Ferice than helped by him." + +"Ruin means so little to you, Don Orsino. It means the inheritance of an +enormous fortune, a princess for a wife and the choice of two or three +palaces to live in." + +"That is one way of putting it," answered Orsino, almost laughing. "As +for yourself, my friend, I do not see that your prospects are so very +bad. Do you suppose that I shall abandon you after having led you into +this scrape, and after having learned to like you and understand your +talent? You are very much mistaken. We have tried this together and +failed, but as you rightly say I shall not be in the least ruined by the +failure. Do you know what will happen? My father will tell me that +since I have gained some experience I should go and manage one of the +estates and improve the buildings. Then you and I will go together." + +Contini smiled suddenly and his bright eyes sparkled. He was profoundly +attached to Orsino, and thought perhaps as much of the loss of his +companionship as of the destruction of his material hopes in the event +of a liquidation. + +"If that could be, I should not care what became of the business," he +said simply. + +"How long do you think we shall last?" asked Orsino after a short pause. + +"If business grows worse, as I think it will, we shall last until the +first bill that falls due after the doors and windows are put in." + +"That is precise, at least." + +"It will probably take us into January, or perhaps February." + +"But suppose that Del Ferice himself gets into trouble between now and +then. If he cannot discount any more, what will happen?" + +"We shall fail a little sooner. But you need not be afraid of that. Del +Ferice knows what he is about better than we do, better than his +confidential clerk, much better than most men of business in Rome. If he +fails, he will fail intentionally and at the right moment." + +"And do you not think that there is even a remote possibility of an +improvement in business, so that nobody will fail at all?" + +"No," answered Contini thoughtfully. "I do not think so. It is a paper +system and it will go to pieces." + +"Why have you not said the same thing before? You must have had this +opinion a long time." + +"I did not believe that Ronco could fail. An accident opens the eyes." + +Orsino had almost decided to let matters go on but he found some +difficulty in actually making up his mind. In spite of Contini's +assurances he could not get rid of the idea that he was under an +obligation to Del Ferice. Once, at least, he thought of going directly +to Ugo and asking for a clear explanation of the whole affair. But Ugo +was not in town, as he knew, and the impossibility of going at once made +it improbable that Orsino would go at all. It would not have been a very +wise move, for Del Ferice could easily deny the story, seeing that the +paper was all in the bank's name, and he would probably have visited the +indiscretion upon the unfortunate clerk. + +In the long silence which followed, Orsino relapsed into his former +despondency. After all, whether he confessed his failure or not, he had +undeniably failed and been played upon from the first, and he admitted +it to himself without attempting to spare his vanity, and his +self-contempt was great and painful. The fact that he had grown from a +boy to a man during his experience did not make it easier to bear such +wounds, which are felt more keenly by the strong than by the weak when +they are real. + +As the day wore on the longing to see Maria Consuelo grew upon him until +he felt that he had never before wished to be with her as he wished it +now. He had no intention of telling her his trouble but he needed the +assurance of an ever ready sympathy which he so often saw in her eyes, +and which was always there for him when he asked it. When there is love +there is reliance, whether expressed or not, and where there is +reliance, be it ever so slender, there is comfort for many ills of body, +mind and soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +Orsino felt suddenly relieved when he had left his office in the +afternoon. Contini's gloomy mood was contagious, and so long as Orsino +was with him it was impossible not to share the architect's view of +affairs. Alone, however, things did not seem so bad. As a matter of +fact it was almost impossible for the young man to give up all his +illusions concerning his own success in one moment, and to believe +himself the dupe of his own blind vanity instead of regarding himself as +the winner in the fight for independence of thought and action. He could +not deny the facts Contini alleged. He had to admit that he was +apparently in Del Ferice's power, unless he appealed to his own people +for assistance. He was driven to acknowledge that he had made a great +mistake. But he could not altogether distrust himself and he fancied +that after all, with a fair share of luck, he might prove a match for +Ugo on the financier's own ground. He had learned to have confidence in +his own powers and judgment, and as he walked away from the office every +moment strengthened his determination to struggle on with such resources +as he might be able to command, so long as there should be a possibility +of action of any sort. He felt, too, that more depended upon his success +than the mere satisfaction of his vanity. If he failed, he might lose +Maria Consuelo as well as his self-respect: He had that sensation, +familiar enough to many young men when extremely in love, that in order +to be loved in return one must succeed, and that a single failure +endangers the stability of a passion which, if it be honest, has nothing +to do with failure or success. At Orsino's age, and with his temper, it +is hard to believe that pity is more closely akin to love than +admiration. + +Gradually the conviction reasserted itself that he could fight his way +through unaided, and his spirits rose as he approached the more crowded +quarters of the city on his way to the hotel where Maria Consuelo was +stopping. Not even the yells of the newsboys affected him, as they +announced the failure of the great contractor Ronco and offered, in a +second edition, a complete account of the bankruptcy. It struck him +indeed that before long the same brazen voices might be screaming out +the news that Andrea Contini and Company had come to grief. But the +idea lent a sense of danger to the situation which Orsino did not find +unpleasant. The greater the difficulty the greater the merit in +overcoming it, and the greater therefore the admiration he should get +from the woman he loved. His position was certainly an odd one, and many +men would not have felt the excitement which he experienced. The +financial side of the question was strangely indifferent to him, who +knew himself backed by the great fortune of his family, and believed +that his ultimate loss could only be the small sum with which he had +begun his operations. But the moral risk seemed enormous and grew in +importance as he thought of it. + +He found Maria Consuelo looking pale and weary. She evidently had no +intention of going out that day, for she wore a morning gown and was +established upon a lounge with books and flowers beside her as though +she did not mean to move. She was not reading, however. Orsino was +startled by the sadness in her face. + +She looked fixedly into his eyes as she gave him her hand, and he sat +down beside her. + +"I am glad you are come," she said at last, in a low voice. "I have been +hoping all day that you would come early." + +"I would have come this morning if I had dared," answered Orsino. + +She looked at him again, and smiled faintly. + +"I have a great deal to say to you," she began. Then she hesitated as +though uncertain where to begin. + +"And I--" Orsino tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it. + +"Yes, but do not say it. At least, not now." + +"Why not, dear one? May I not tell you how I love you? What is it, love? +You are so sad to-day. Has anything happened?" + +His voice grew soft and tender as he spoke, bending to her ear. She +pushed him gently back. + +"You know what has happened," she answered. "It is no wonder that I am +sad." + +"I do not understand you, dear. Tell me what it is." + +"I told you too much yesterday--" + +"Too much?" + +"Far too much." + +"Are you going to unsay it?" + +"How can I?" + +She turned her face away and her fingers played nervously with her +laces. + +"No--indeed, neither of us can unsay such words," said Orsino. "But I do +not understand you yet, darling. You must tell me what you mean to-day." + +"You know it all. It is because you will not understand--" + +Orsino's face changed and his voice took another tone when he spoke. + +"Are you playing with me, Consuelo?" he asked gravely. + +She started slightly and grew paler than before. + +"You are not kind," she said. "I am suffering very much. Do not make it +harder." + +"I am suffering, too. You mean me to understand that you regret what +happened yesterday and that you wish to take back your words, that +whether you love me or not, you mean to act and appear as though you did +not, and that I am to behave as though nothing had happened. Do you +think that would be easy? And do you think I do not suffer at the mere +idea of it?" + +"Since it must be--" + +"There is no must," answered Orsino with energy. "You would ruin your +life and mine for the mere shadow of a memory which you choose to take +for a binding promise. I will not let you do it." + +"You will not?" She looked at him quickly with an expression of +resistance. + +"No--I will not," he repeated. "We have too much at stake. You shall not +lose all for both of us." + +"You are wrong, dear one," she said, with sudden softness. "If you love +me, you should believe me and trust me. I can give you nothing but +unhappiness--" + +"You have given me the only happiness I ever knew--and you ask me to +believe that you could make me unhappy in any way except by not loving +me! Consuelo--my darling--are you out of your senses?" + +"No. I am too much in them. I wish I were not. If I were mad I should--" + +"What?" + +"Never mind. I will not even say it. No--do not try to take my hand, for +I will not give it to you. Listen, Orsino--be reasonable, listen to +me--" + +"I will try and listen." + +But Maria Consuelo did not speak at once. Possibly she was trying to +collect her thoughts. + +"What have you to say, dearest?" asked Orsino at length. "I will try to +understand." + +"You must understand. I will make it all clear to you and then you will +see it as I do." + +"And then--what?" + +"And then we must part," she said in a low voice. + +Orsino said nothing, but shook his head incredulously. + +"Yes," repeated Maria Consuelo, "we must not see each other any more +after this. It has been all my fault. I shall leave Rome and not come +back again. It will be best for you and I will make it best for me." + +"You talk very easily of parting." + +"Do I? Every word is a wound. Do I look as though I were indifferent?" + +Orsino glanced at her pale face and tearful eyes. + +"No, dear," he said softly. + +"Then do not call me heartless. I have more heart than you think--and it +is breaking. And do not say that I do not love you. I love you better +than you know--better than you will be loved again when you are +older--and happier, perhaps. Yes, I know what you want to say. Well, +dear--you love me, too. Yes, I know it. Let there be no unkind words and +no doubts between us to-day. I think it is our last day together." + +"For God's sake, Consuelo--" + +"We shall see. Now let me speak--if I can. There are three reasons why +you and I should not marry. I have thought of them through all last +night and all to-day, and I know them. The first is my solemn vow to the +dying man who loved me so well and who asked nothing but that--whose +wife I never was, but whose name I bear. Think me mad, +superstitious--what you will--I cannot break that promise. It was almost +an oath not to love, and if it was I have broken it. But the rest I can +keep, and will. The next reason is that I am older than you. I might +forget that, I have forgotten it more than once, but the time will come +soon when you will remember it." + +Orsino made an angry gesture and would have spoken, but she checked him. + +"Pass that over, since we are both young. The third reason is harder to +tell and no power on earth can explain it away. I am no match for you in +birth, Orsino--" + +The young man interrupted her now, and fiercely. + +"Do you dare to think that I care what your birth may be?" he asked. + +"There are those who do care, even if you do not, dear one," she +answered quietly. + +"And what is their caring to you or me?" + +"It is not so small a matter as you think. I am not talking of a mere +difference in rank. It is worse than that. I do not really know who I +am. Do you understand? I do not know who my mother was nor whether she +is alive or dead, and before I was married I did not bear my father's +name." + +"But you know your father--you know his name at least?" + +"Yes." + +"Who is he?" Orsino could hardly pronounce the words of the question. + +"Count Spicca." + +Maria Consuelo spoke quietly, but her fingers trembled nervously and +she watched Orsino's face in evident distress and anxiety. As for +Orsino, he was almost dumb with amazement. + +"Spicca! Spicca your father!" he repeated indistinctly. + +In all his many speculations as to the tie which existed between Maria +Consuelo and the old duellist, he had never thought of this one. + +"Then you never suspected it?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +"How should I? And your own father killed your husband--good Heavens! +What a story!" + +"You know now. You see for yourself how impossible it is that I should +marry you." + +In his excitement Orsino had risen and was pacing the room. He scarcely +heard her last words, and did not say anything in reply. Maria Consuelo +lay quite still upon the lounge, her hands clasped tightly together and +straining upon each other. + +"You see it all now," she said again. This time his attention was +arrested and he stopped before her. + +"Yes. I see what you mean. But I do not see it as you see it. I do not +see that any of these things you have told me need hinder our marriage." + +Maria Consuelo did not move, but her expression changed. The light stole +slowly into her face and lingered there, not driving away the sadness +but illuminating it. + +"And would you have the courage, in spite of your family and of society, +to marry me, a woman practically nameless, older than yourself--" + +"I not only would, but I will," answered Orsino. + +"You cannot--but I thank you, dear," said Maria Consuelo. + +He was standing close beside her. She took his hand and tenderly touched +it with her lips. He started and drew it back, for no woman had ever +kissed his hand. + +"You must not do that!" he exclaimed, instinctively. + +"And why not, if I please?" she asked, raising her eyebrows with a +little affectionate laugh. + +"I am not good enough to kiss your hand, darling--still less to let you +kiss mine. Never mind--we were talking--where were we?" + +"You were saying--" But he interrupted her. + +"What does it matter, when I love you so, and you love me?" he asked +passionately. + +He knelt beside her as she lay on the lounge and took her hands, holding +them and drawing her towards him. She resisted and turned her face away. + +"No--no! It matters too much--let me go, it only makes it worse!" + +"Makes what worse?" + +"Parting--" + +"We will not part. I will not let you go!" + +But still she struggled with her hands and he, fearing to hurt them in +his grasp, let them slip away with a lingering touch. + +"Get up," she said. "Sit here, beside me--a little further--there. We +can talk better so." + +"I cannot talk at all--" + +"Without holding my hands?" + +"Why should I not?" + +"Because I ask you. Please, dear--" + +She drew back on the lounge, raised herself a little and turned her face +to him. Again, as his eyes met hers, he leaned forward quickly, as +though he would leave his seat. But she checked him, by an imperative +glance and a gesture. He was unreasonable and had no right to be +annoyed, but something in her manner chilled him and pained him in a way +he could not have explained. When he spoke there was a shade of change +in the tone of his voice. + +"The things you have told me do not influence me in the least," he said +with more calmness than he had yet shown. "What you believe to be the +most important reason is no reason at all to me. You are Count Spicca's +daughter. He is an old friend of my father--not that it matters very +materially, but it may make everything easier. I will go to him to-day +and tell him that I wish to marry you--" + +"You will not do that!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo in a tone of alarm. + +"Yes, I will. Why not? Do you know what he once said to me? He told me +he wished we might take a fancy to each other, because, as he expressed +it, we should be so well matched." + +"Did he say that?" asked Maria Consuelo gravely. + +"That or something to the same effect. Are you surprised? What surprises +me is that I should never have guessed the relation between you. Now +your father is a very honourable man. What he said meant something, and +when he said it he meant that our marriage would seem natural to him and +to everybody. I will go and talk to him. So much for your great reason. +As for the second you gave, it is absurd. We are of the same age, to all +intents and purposes." + +"I am not twenty-three years old." + +"And I am not quite two and twenty. Is that a difference? So much for +that. Take the third, which you put first. Seriously, do you think that +any intelligent being would consider you bound by such a promise? Do you +mean to say that a young girl--you were nothing more--has a right to +throw away her life out of sentiment by making a promise of that kind? +And to whom? To a man who is not her husband, and never can be, because +he is dying. To a man just not indifferent to her, to a man--" + +Maria Consuelo raised herself and looked full at Orsino. Her face was +extremely pale and her eyes were suddenly dark and gleamed. + +"Don Orsino, you have no right to talk to me in that way. I loved +him--no one knows how I loved him!" + +There was no mistaking the tone and the look. Orsino felt again and more +strongly, the chill and the pain he had felt before. He was silent for +a moment. Maria Consuelo looked at him a second longer, and then let her +head fall back upon the cushion. But the expression which had come into +her face did not change at once. + +"Forgive me," said Orsino after a pause. "I had not quite understood. +The only imaginable reason which could make our marriage impossible +would be that. If you loved him so well--if you loved him in such a way +as to prevent you from loving me as I love you--why then, you may be +right after all." + +In the silence which followed, he turned his face away and gazed at the +window. He had spoken quietly enough and his expression, strange to say, +was calm and thoughtful. It is not always easy for a woman to understand +a man, for men soon learn to conceal what hurts them but take little +trouble to hide their happiness, if they are honest. A man more often +betrays himself by a look of pleasure than by an expression of +disappointment. It was thought manly to bear pain in silence long before +it became fashionable to seem indifferent to joy. + +Orsino's manner displeased Maria Consuelo. It was too quiet and cold and +she thought he cared less than he really did. + +"You say nothing," he said at last. + +"What shall I say? You speak of something preventing me from loving you +as you love me. How can I tell how much you love me?" + +"Do you not see it? Do you not feel it?" Orsino's tone warmed again as +he turned towards her, but he was conscious of an effort. Deeply as he +loved her, it was not natural for him to speak passionately just at that +moment, but he knew she expected it and he did his best. She was +disappointed. + +"Not always," she answered with a little sigh. + +"You do not always believe that I love you?" + +"I did not say that. I am not always sure that you love me as much as +you think you do--you imagine a great deal." + +"I did not know it." + +"Yes--sometimes. I am sure it is so." + +"And how am I to prove that you are wrong and I am right?" + +"How should I know? Perhaps time will show." + +"Time is too slow for me. There must be some other way." + +"Find it then," said Maria Consuelo, smiling rather sadly. + +"I will." + +He meant what he said, but the difficulty of the problem perplexed him +and there was not enough conviction in his voice. He was thinking rather +of the matter itself than of what he said. Maria Consuelo fanned herself +slowly and stared at the wall. + +"If you doubt so much," said Orsino at last, "I have the right to doubt +a little too. If you loved me well enough you would promise to marry me. +You do not." + +There was a short pause. At last Maria Consuelo closed her fan, looked +at it and spoke. + +"You say my reason is not good. Must I go all over it again? It seems a +good one to me. Is it incredible to you that a woman should love twice? +Such things have happened before. Is it incredible to you that, loving +one person, a woman should respect the memory of another and a solemn +promise given to that other? I should respect myself less if I did not. +That it is all my fault I will admit, if you like--that I should never +have received you as I did--I grant it all--that I was weak yesterday, +that I am weak to-day, that I should be weak to-morrow if I let this go +on. I am sorry. You can take a little of the blame if you are generous +enough, or vain enough. You have tried hard to make me love you and you +have succeeded, for I love you very much. So much the worse for me. It +must end now." + +"You do not think of me, when you say that." + +"Perhaps I think more of you than you know--or will understand. I am +older than you--do not interrupt me! I am older, for a woman is always +older than a man in some things. I know what will happen, what will +certainly happen in time if we do not part. You will grow jealous of a +shadow and I shall never be able to tell you that this same shadow is +not dear to me. You will come to hate what I have loved and love still, +though it does not prevent me from loving you too--" + +"But less well," said Orsino rather harshly. + +"You would believe that, at least, and the thought would always be +between us." + +"If you loved me as much, you would not hesitate. You would marry me +living, as you married him dead." + +"If there were no other reason against it--" She stopped. + +"There is no other reason," said Orsino insisting. + +Maria Consuelo shook her head but said nothing and a long silence +followed. Orsino sat still, watching her and wondering what was passing +in her mind. It seemed to him, and perhaps rightly, that if she were +really in earnest and loved him with all her heart, the reasons she gave +for a separation were far from sufficient. He had not even much faith in +her present obstinacy and he did not believe that she would really go +away. It was incredible that any woman could be so capricious as she +chose to be. Her calmness, or what appeared to him her calmness, made it +even less probable, he thought, that she meant to part from him. But the +thought alone was enough to disturb him seriously. He had suffered a +severe shock with outward composure but not without inward suffering, +followed naturally enough by something like angry resentment. As he +viewed the situation, Maria Consuelo had alternately drawn him on and +disappointed him from the very beginning; she had taken delight in +forcing him to speak out his love, only to chill him the next moment, or +the next day, with the certainty that she did not love him sincerely. +Just then he would have preferred not to put into words the thoughts of +her that crossed his mind. They would have expressed a disbelief in her +character which he did not really feel and an opinion of his own +judgment which he would rather not have accepted. + +He even went so far, in his anger, as to imagine what would happen if he +suddenly rose to go. She would put on that sad look of hers and give him +her hand coldly. Then just as he reached the door she would call him +back, only to send him away again. He would find on the following day +that she had not left town after all, or, at most, that she had gone to +Florence for a day or two, while the workmen completed the furnishing of +her apartment. Then she would come back and would meet him just as +though there had never been anything between them. + +The anticipation was so painful to him that he wished to have it +realised and over as soon as possible, and he looked at her again before +rising from his seat. He could hardly believe that she was the same +woman who had stood with him, watching the thunderstorm, on the previous +afternoon. + +He saw that she was pale, but she was not facing the light and the +expression of her face was not distinctly visible. On the whole, he +fancied that her look was one of indifference. Her hands lay idly upon +her fan and by the drooping of her lids she seemed to be looking at +them. The full, curved lips were closed, but not drawn in as though in +pain, nor pouting as though in displeasure. She appeared to be +singularly calm. After hesitating another moment Orsino rose to his +feet. He had made up his mind what to say, for it was little enough, but +his voice trembled a little. + +"Good-bye, Madame." + +Maria Consuelo started slightly and looked up, as though to see whether +he really meant to go at that moment. She had no idea that he really +thought of taking her at her word and parting then and there. She did +not realise how true it was that she was much older than he and she had +never believed him to be as impulsive as he sometimes seemed. + +"Do not go yet," she said, instinctively. + +"Since you say that we must part--" he stopped, as though leaving her to +finish the sentence in imagination. + +A frightened look passed quickly over Maria Consuelo's face. She made as +though she would have taken his hand, then drew back her own and bit her +lip, not angrily but as though she were controlling something. + +"Since you insist upon our parting," Orsino said, after a short, +strained silence, "it is better that it should be got over at once." In +spite of himself his voice was still unsteady. + +"I did not--no--yes, it is better so." + +"Then good-bye, Madame." + +It was impossible for her to understand all that had passed in his mind +while he had sat beside her, after the previous conversation had ended. +His abruptness and coldness were incomprehensible to her. + +"Good-bye, then--Orsino." + +For a moment her eyes rested on his. It was the sad look he had +anticipated, and she put out her hand now. Surely, he thought, if she +loved him she would not let him go so easily. He took her fingers and +would have raised them to his lips when they suddenly closed on his, not +with the passionate, loving pressure of yesterday, but firmly and +quietly, as though they would not be disobeyed, guiding him again to his +seat close beside her. He sat down. + +"Good-bye, then, Orsino," she repeated, not yet relinquishing her hold. +"Good-bye, dear, since it must be good-bye--but not good-bye as you said +it. You shall not go until you can say it differently." + +She let him go now and changed her own position. Her feet slipped to the +ground and she leaned with her elbow upon the head of the lounge, +resting her cheek against her hand. She was nearer to him now than +before and their eyes met as they faced each other. She had certainly +not chosen her attitude with any second thought of her own appearance, +but as Orsino looked into her face he saw again clearly all the +beauties that he had so long admired, the passionate eyes, the full, +firm mouth, the broad brow, the luminous white skin--all beauties in +themselves though not, together, making real beauty in her case. And +beyond these he saw and felt over them all and through them all the +charm that fascinated him, appealing as it were to him in particular of +all men as it could not appeal to another. He was still angry, disturbed +out of his natural self and almost out of his passion, but he felt none +the less that Maria Consuelo could hold him if she pleased, as long as a +shadow of affection for her remained in him, and perhaps longer. When +she spoke, he knew what she meant, and he did not interrupt her nor +attempt to answer. + +"I have meant all I have said to-day," she continued. "Do not think it +is easy for me to say more. I would give all I have to give to take back +yesterday, for yesterday was my great mistake. I am only a woman and you +will forgive me. I do what I am doing now, for your sake--God knows it +is not for mine. God knows how hard it is for me to part from you. I am +in earnest, you see. You believe me now." + +Her voice was steady but the tears were already welling over. + +"Yes, dear, I believe you," Orsino answered softly. Women's tears are a +great solvent of man's ill temper. + +"As for this being right and best, this parting, you will see it as I do +sooner or later. But you do believe that I love you, dearly, tenderly, +very--well, no matter how--you believe it?" + +"I believe it--" + +"Then say 'good-bye, Consuelo'--and kiss me once--for what might have +been." + +Orsino half rose, bent down and kissed her cheek. + +"Good-bye, Consuelo," he said, almost whispering the words into her ear. +In his heart he did not think she meant it. He still expected that she +would call him back. + +"It is good-bye, dear--believe it--remember it!" Her voice shook a +little now. + +"Good-bye, Consuelo," he repeated. + +With a loving look that meant no good-bye he drew back and went to the +door. He laid his hand on the handle and paused. She did not speak. Then +he looked at her again. Her head had fallen back against a cushion and +her eyes were half closed. He waited a second and a keen pain shot +through him. Perhaps she was in earnest after all. In an instant he had +recrossed the room and was on his knees beside her trying to take her +hands. + +"Consuelo--darling--you do not really mean it! You cannot, you will +not--" + +He covered her hands with kisses and pressed them to his heart. For a +few moments she made no movement, but her eyelids quivered. Then she +sprang to her feet, pushing him back violently as he rose with her, and +turning her face from him. + +"Go--go!" she cried wildly. "Go--let me never see you again--never, +never!" + +Before he could stop her, she had passed him with a rush like a swallow +on the wing and was gone from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +Orsino was not in an enviable frame of mind when he left the hotel. It +is easier to bear suffering when one clearly understands all its causes, +and distinguishes just how great a part of it is inevitable and how +great a part may be avoided or mitigated. In the present case there was +much in the situation which it passed his power to analyse or +comprehend. He still possessed the taste for discovering motives in the +actions of others as well as in his own, but many months of a busy life +had dulled the edge of the artificial logic in which he had formerly +delighted, while greatly sharpening his practical wit. Artificial +analysis supplies from the imagination the details lacking in facts, but +common sense needs something more tangible upon which to work. Orsino +felt that the chief circumstance which had determined Maria Consuelo's +conduct had escaped him, and he sought in vain to detect it. + +He rejected the supposition that she was acting upon a caprice, that she +had yesterday believed it possible to marry him, while a change of +humour made marriage seem out of the question to-day. She was as +capricious as most women, perhaps, but not enough so for that. Besides, +she had been really consistent. Not even yesterday had she been shaken +for a moment in her resolution not to be Orsino's wife. To-day had +confirmed yesterday therefore. However Orsino might have still doubted +her intention when he had gone to her side for the last time, her +behaviour then and her final words had been unmistakable. She meant to +leave Rome at once. + +Yet the reasons she had given him for her conduct were not sufficient in +his eyes. The difference of age was so small that it could safely be +disregarded. Her promise to the dying Aranjuez was an engagement, he +thought, by which no person of sense should expect her to abide. As for +the question of her birth, he relied on that speech of Spicca's which he +so well remembered. Spicca might have spoken the words thoughtlessly, it +was true, and believing that Orsino would never, under any circumstances +whatever, think seriously of marrying Maria Consuelo. But Spicca was not +a man who often spoke carelessly, and what he said generally meant at +least as much as it appeared to mean. + +It was doubtless true that Maria Consuelo was ignorant of her mother's +name. Nevertheless, it was quite possible that her mother had been +Spicca's wife. Spicca's life was said to be full of strange events not +generally known. But though his daughter might, and doubtless did +believe herself a nameless child, and, as such, no match for the heir +of the Saracinesca, Orsino could not see why she should have insisted +upon a parting so sudden, so painful and so premature. She knew as much +yesterday and had known it all along. Why, if she possessed such +strength of character, had she allowed matters to go so far when she +could easily have interrupted the course of events at an earlier period? +He did not admit that she perhaps loved him so much as to have been +carried away by her passion until she found herself on the point of +doing him an injury by marrying him, and that her love was strong enough +to induce her to sacrifice herself at the critical moment. Though he +loved her much he did not believe her to be heroic in any way. On the +contrary, he said to himself that if she were sincere, and if her love +were at all like his own, she would let no obstacle stand in the way of +it. To him, the test of love must be its utter recklessness. He could +not believe that a still better test may be, and is, the constant +forethought for the object of love, and the determination to protect +that object from all danger in the present and from all suffering in the +future, no matter at what cost. + +Perhaps it is not easy to believe that recklessness is a manifestation +of the second degree of passion, while the highest shows itself in +painful sacrifice. Yet the most daring act of chivalry never called for +half the bravery shown by many a martyr at the stake, and if courage be +a measure of true passion, the passion which will face life-long +suffering to save its object from unhappiness or degradation is greater +than the passion which, for the sake of possessing its object, drags it +into danger and the risk of ruin. It may be that all this is untrue, and +that the action of these two imaginary individuals, the one sacrificing +himself, the other endangering the loved one, is dependent upon the +balance of the animal, intellectual and moral elements in each. We do +not know much about the causes of what we feel, in spite of modern +analysis; but the heart rarely deceives us, when we can see the truth +for ourselves, into bestowing the more praise upon the less brave of two +deeds. But we do not often see the truth as it is. We know little of the +lives of others, but we are apt to think that other people understand +our own very well, including our good deeds if we have done any, and we +expect full measure of credit for these, and the utmost allowance of +charity for our sins. In other words we desire our neighbour to combine +a power of forgiveness almost divine with a capacity for flattery more +than parasitic. That is why we are not easily satisfied with our +acquaintances and that is why our friends do not always turn out to be +truthful persons. We ask too much for the low price we offer, and if we +insist we get the imitation. + +Orsino loved Maria Consuelo with all his heart, as much as a young man +of little more than one and twenty can love the first woman to whom he +is seriously attached. There was nothing heroic in the passion, perhaps, +nothing which could ultimately lead to great results. But it was a +strong love, nevertheless, with much, of devotion in it and some latent +violence. If he did not marry Maria Consuelo, it was not likely that he +would ever love again in exactly the same way. His next love would be +either far better or far worse, far nobler or far baser--perhaps a +little less human in either case. + +He walked slowly away from the hotel, unconscious of the people in the +street and not thinking of the direction he took. His brain was in a +whirl and his thoughts seemed to revolve round some central point upon +which they could not concentrate themselves even for a second. The only +thing of which he was sure was that Maria Consuelo had taken herself +from him suddenly and altogether, leaving him with a sense of loneliness +which he had not known before. He had gone to her in considerable +distress about his affairs, with the certainty of finding sympathy and +perhaps advice. He came away, as some men have returned from a grave +accident, apparently unscathed it may be, but temporarily deprived of +some one sense, of sight, or hearing, or touch. He was not sure that he +was awake, and his troubled reflexions came back by the same unvarying +round to the point he had reached the first time--if Maria Consuelo +really loved him, she would not let such obstacles as she spoke of +hinder her union with him. + +For a time Orsino was not conscious of any impulse to act. Gradually, +however, his real nature asserted itself, and he remembered how he had +told her not long ago that if she went away he would follow her, and how +he had said that the world was small and that he would soon find her +again. It would undoubtedly be a simple matter to accompany her, if she +left Rome. He could easily ascertain the hour of her intended departure +and that alone would tell him the direction she had chosen. When she +found that she had not escaped him she would very probably give up the +attempt and come back, her humour would change and his own eloquence +would do the rest. + +He stopped in his walk, looked at his watch and glanced about him. He +was at some distance from the hotel and it was growing dusk, for the +days were already short. If Maria Consuelo really meant to leave Rome +precipitately, she might go by the evening train to Paris and in that +case the people of the hotel would have been informed of her intended +departure. + +Orsino only admitted the possibility of her actually going away while +believing in his heart that she would remain. He slowly retraced his +steps, and it was seven o'clock before he asked the hotel porter by what +train Madame d'Aranjuez was leaving. The porter did not know whether the +lady was going north or south, but he called another man, who went in +search of a third, who disappeared for some time. + +"Is it sure that Madame d'Aranjuez goes to-night?" asked Orsino trying +to look indifferent. + +"Quite sure. Her rooms will be free to-morrow." + +Orsino turned away and slowly paced up and down the marble pavement +between the tall plants, waiting for the messenger to come back. + +"Madame d'Aranjuez leaves at nine forty-five," said the man, suddenly +reappearing. + +Orsino hesitated a moment, and then made up his mind. + +"Ask Madame if she will receive me for a moment," he said, producing a +card. + +The servant went away and again Orsino walked backwards and forwards, +pale now and very nervous. She was really going, and was going +north--probably to Paris. + +"Madame regrets infinitely that she is not able to receive the Signor +Prince," said the man in black at Orsino's elbow. "She is making her +preparations for the journey." + +"Show me where I can write a note," said Orsino, who had expected the +answer. + +He was shown into the reading-room and writing materials were set before +him. He hurriedly wrote a few words to Maria Consuelo, without form of +address and without signature. + +"I will not let you go without me. If you will not see me, I will be in +the train, and I will not leave you, wherever you go. I am in earnest." + +He looked at the sheet of note-paper and wondered that he should find +nothing more to say. But he had said all he meant, and sealing the +little note he sent it up to Maria Consuelo with a request for an +immediate answer. Just then the dinner bell of the hotel was rung. The +reading-room was deserted. He waited five minutes, then ten, nervously +turning over the newspapers and reviews on the long table, but quite +unable to read even the printed titles. He rang and asked if there had +been no answer to his note. The man was the same whom he had sent +before. He said the note had been received at the door by the maid who +had said that Madame d'Aranjuez would ring when her answer was ready. +Orsino dismissed the servant and waited again. It crossed his mind that +the maid might have pocketed the note and said nothing about it, for +reasons of her own. He had almost determined to go upstairs and boldly +enter the sitting-room, when the door opposite to him opened and Maria +Consuelo herself appeared. + +She was dressed in a dark close-fitting travelling costume, but she wore +no hat. Her face was quite colourless and looked if possible even more +unnaturally pale by contrast with her bright auburn hair. She shut the +door behind her and stood still, facing Orsino in the glare of the +electric lights. + +"I did not mean to see you again," she said, slowly. "You have forced me +to it." + +Orsino made a step forward and tried to take her hand, but she drew +back. The slight uncertainty often visible in the direction of her +glance had altogether disappeared and her eyes met Orsino's directly and +fearlessly. + +"Yes," he answered. "I have forced you to it. I know it, and you cannot +reproach me if I have. I will not leave you. I am going with you +wherever you go." + +He spoke calmly, considering the great emotion he felt, and there was a +quiet determination in his words and tone which told how much he was in +earnest. Maria Consuelo half believed that she could dominate him by +sheer force of will, and she would not give up the idea, even now. + +"You will not go with me, you will not even attempt it," she said. + +It would have been difficult to guess from her face at that moment that +she loved him. Her face was pale and the expression was almost hard. She +held her head high as though she were looking down at him, though he +towered above her from his shoulders. + +"You do not understand me," he answered, quietly. "When I say that I +will go with you, I mean that I will go." + +"Is this a trial of strength?" she asked after a moment's pause. + +"If it is, I am not conscious of it. It costs me no effort to go--it +would cost me much to stay behind--too much." + +He stood quite still before her, looking steadily into her eyes. There +was a short silence, and then she suddenly looked down, moved and turned +away, beginning to walk slowly about. The room was large, and he paced +the floor beside her, looking down at her bent head. + +"Will you stay if I ask you to?" + +The question came in a lower and softer tone than she had used before. + +"I will go with you," answered Orsino as firmly as ever. + +"Will you do nothing for my asking?" + +"I will do anything but that." + +"But that is all I ask." + +"You are asking the impossible." + +"There are many reasons why you should not come with me. Have you +thought of them all?" + +"No." + +"You should. You ought to know, without being told by me, that you would +be doing me a great injustice and a great injury in following me. You +ought to know what the world will say of it. Remember that I am alone." + +"I will marry you." + +"I have told you that it is impossible--no, do not answer me! I will not +go over all that again. I am going away to-night. That is the principal +thing--the only thing that concerns you. Of course, if you choose, you +can get into the same train and pursue me to the end of the world. I +cannot prevent you. I thought I could, but I was mistaken. I am alone. +Remember that, Orsino. You know as well as I what will be said--and the +fact is sure to be known." + +"People will say that I am following you--" + +"They will say that we are gone together, for every one will have reason +to say it. Do you suppose that nobody is aware of our--our intimacy +during the last month?" + +"Why not say our love?" + +"Because I hope no one knows of that--well, if they do--Orsino, be kind! +Let me go alone--as a man of honour, do not injure me by leaving Rome +with me, nor by following me when I am gone!" + +She stopped and looked up into his face with an imploring glance. To +tell the truth, Orsino had not foreseen that she might appeal to his +honour, alleging the danger to her reputation. He bit his lip and +avoided her eyes. It was hard to yield, and to yield so quickly, as it +seemed to him. + +"How long will you stay away?" he asked in a constrained voice. + +"I shall not come back at all." + +He wondered at the firmness of her tone and manner. Whatever the real +ground of her resolution might be, the resolution itself had gained +strength since they had parted little more than an hour earlier. The +belief suddenly grew upon him again that she did not love him. + +"Why are you going at all?" he asked abruptly. "If you loved me at all, +you would stay." + +She drew a sharp breath and clasped her hands nervously together. + +"I should stay if I loved you less. But I have told you--I will not go +over it all again. This must end--this saying good-bye! It is easier to +end it at once." + +"Easier for you--" + +"You do not know what you are saying. You will know some day. If you can +bear this, I cannot." + +"Then stay--if you love me, as you say you do." + +"As I say I do!" + +Her eyes grew very grave and sad as she stopped and looked at him again. +Then she held out both her hands. + +"I am going, now. Good-bye." + +The blood came back to Orsino's face. It seemed to him that he had +reached the crisis of his life and his instinct was to struggle hard +against his fate. With a quick movement he caught her in his arms, +lifting her from her feet and pressing her close to him. + +"You shall not go!" + +He kissed her passionately again and again, while she fought to be free, +straining at his arms with her small white hands and trying to turn her +face from him. + +"Why do you struggle? It is of no use." He spoke in very soft deep +tones, close to her ear. + +She shook her head desperately and still did her best to slip from him, +though she might as well have tried to break iron clamps with her +fingers. + +"It is of no use," he repeated, pressing her still more closely to him. + +"Let me go!" she cried, making a violent effort, as fruitless as the +last. + +"No!" + +Then she was quite still, realising that she had no chance with him. + +"Is it manly to be brutal because you are strong?" she asked. "You hurt +me." + +Orsino's arms relaxed, and he let her go. She drew a long breath and +moved a step backward and towards the door. + +"Good-bye," she said again. But this time she did not hold out her hand, +though she looked long and fixedly into his face. + +Orsino made a movement as though he would have caught her again. She +started and put out her hand behind her towards the latch. But he did +not touch her. She softly opened the door, looked at him once more and +went out. + +When he realised that she was gone he sprang after her, calling her by +name. + +"Consuelo!" + +There were a few people walking in the broad passage. They stared at +Orsino, but he did not heed them as he passed by. Maria Consuelo was not +there, and he understood in a moment that it would be useless to seek +her further. He stood still a moment, entered the reading-room again, +got his hat and left the hotel without looking behind him. + +All sorts of wild ideas and schemes flashed through his brain, each more +absurd and impracticable than the last. He thought of going back and +finding Maria Consuelo's maid--he might bribe her to prevent her +mistress's departure. He thought of offering the driver of the train an +enormous sum to do some injury to his engine before reaching the first +station out of Rome. He thought of stopping Maria Consuelo's carriage on +her way to the tram and taking her by main force to his father's house. +If she were compromised in such a way, she would be almost obliged to +marry him. He afterwards wondered at the stupidity of his own inventions +on that evening, but at the time nothing looked impossible. + +He bethought him of Spicca. Perhaps the old man possessed some power +over his daughter after all and could prevent her flight if he chose. +There were yet nearly two hours left before the train started. If worst +came to worst, Orsino could still get to the station at the last minute +and leave Rome with her. + +He took a passing cab and drove to Spicca's lodgings. The count was at +home, writing a letter by the light of a small lamp. He looked up in +surprise as Orsino entered, then rose and offered him a chair. + +"What has happened, my friend?" he asked, glancing curiously at the +young man's face. + +"Everything," answered Orsino. "I love Madame d'Aranjuez, she loves me, +she absolutely refuses to marry me and she is going to Paris at a +quarter to ten. I know she is your daughter and I want you to prevent +her from leaving. That is all, I believe." + +Spicca's cadaverous face did not change, but the hollow eyes grew bright +and fixed their glance on an imaginary point at an immense distance, and +the thin hand that lay on the edge of the table closed slowly upon the +projecting wood. For a few moments he said nothing, but when he spoke he +seemed quite calm. + +"If she has told you that she is my daughter," he said, "I presume that +she has told you the rest. Is that true?" + +Orsino was impatient for Spicca to take some immediate action, but he +understood that the count had a right to ask the question. + +"She has told me that she does not know her mother's name, and that you +killed her husband." + +"Both these statements are perfectly true at all events. Is that all you +know?" + +"All? Yes--all of importance. But there is no time to be lost. No one +but you can prevent her from leaving Rome to-night. You must help me +quickly." + +Spicca looked gravely at Orsino and shook his head. The light that had +shone in his eyes for a moment was gone, and he was again his habitual, +melancholy, indifferent self. + +"I cannot stop her," he said, almost listlessly. + +"But you can--you will, you must!" cried Orsino laying a hand on the old +man's thin arm. "She must not go--" + +"Better that she should, after all. Of what use is it for her to stay? +She is quite right. You cannot marry her." + +"Cannot marry her? Why not? It is not long since you told me very +plainly that you wished I would marry her. You have changed your mind +very suddenly, it seems to me, and I would like to know why. Do you +remember all you said to me?" + +"Yes, and I was in earnest, as I am now. And I was wrong in telling you +what I thought at the time." + +"At the time! How can matters have changed so suddenly?" + +"I do not say that matters have changed. I have. That is the important +thing. I remember the occasion of our conversation very well. Madame +d'Aranjuez had been rather abrupt with, me, and you and I went away +together. I forgave her easily enough, for I saw that she was +unhappy--then I thought how different her life might be if she were +married to you. I also wished to convey to you a warning, and it did not +strike me that you would ever seriously contemplate such a marriage." + +"I think you are in a certain way responsible for the present +situation," answered Orsino. "That is the reason why I come to you for +help." + +Spicca turned upon the young man rather suddenly. + +"There you go too far," he said. "Do you mean to tell me that you have +asked that lady to marry you because I suggested it?" + +"No, but--" + +"Then I am not responsible at all. Besides, you might have consulted me +again, if you had chosen. I have not been out of town. I sincerely wish +that it were possible--yes, that is quite another matter. But it is not. +If Madame d'Aranjuez thinks it is not, from her point of view there are +a thousand reasons why I should consider it far more completely out of +the question. As for preventing her from leaving Rome I could not do +that even were I willing to try." + +"Then I will go with her," said Orsino, angrily. + +Spicca looked at him in silence for a few moments. Orsino rose to his +feet and prepared to go. + +"You leave me no choice," he said, as though Spicca had protested. + +"Because I cannot and will not stop her? Is that any reason why you +should compromise her reputation as you propose to do?" + +"It is the best of reasons. She will marry me then, out of necessity." + +Spicca rose also, with more alacrity than generally characterised his +movements. He stood before the empty fireplace, watching the young man +narrowly. + +"It is not a good reason," he said, presently, in quiet tones. "You are +not the man to do that sort of thing. You are too honourable." + +"I do not see anything dishonourable in following the woman I love." + +"That depends on the way in which you follow her. If you go quietly home +to-night and write to your father that you have decided to go to Paris +for a few days and will leave to-morrow, if you make your arrangements +like a sensible being and go away like a sane man, I have nothing to say +in the matter--" + +"I presume not--" interrupted Orsino, facing the old man somewhat +fiercely. + +"Very well. We will not quarrel yet. We will reserve that pleasure for +the moment when you cease to understand me. That way of following her +would be bad enough, but no one would have any right to stop you." + +"No one has any right to stop me, as it is." + +"I beg your pardon. The present circumstances are different. In the +first instance the world would say that you were in love with Madame +d'Aranjuez and were pursuing her to press your suit--of whatever nature +that might be. In the second case the world will assert that you and +she, not meaning to be married, have adopted the simple plan of going +away together. That implies her consent, and you have no right to let +any one imply that. I say, it is not honourable to let people think that +a lady is risking her reputation for you and perhaps sacrificing it +altogether, when she is in reality trying to escape from you. Am I +right, or not?" + +"You are ingenious, at all events. You talk as though the whole world +were to know in half an hour that I have gone to Paris in the same train +with Madame d'Aranjuez. That is absurd!" + +"Is it? I think not. Half an hour is little, perhaps, but half a day is +enough. You are not an insignificant son of an unknown Roman citizen, +nor is Madame d'Aranjuez a person who passes unnoticed. Reporters watch +people like you for items of news, and you are perfectly well known by +sight. Apart from that, do you think that your servants will not tell +your friends' servants of your sudden departure, or that Madame +d'Aranjuez' going will not be observed? You ought to know Rome better +than that. I ask you again, am I right or wrong?" + +"What difference will it make, if we are married immediately?" + +"She will never marry you. I am convinced of that." + +"How can you know? Has she spoken to you about it?" + +"I am the last person to whom she would come." + +"Her own father--" + +"With limitations. Besides, I had the misfortune to deprive her of the +chosen companion of her life, and at a critical moment. She has not +forgotten that." + +"No she has not," answered Orsino gloomily. The memory of Aranjuez was a +sore point. "Why did you kill him?" he asked, suddenly. + +"Because he was an adventurer, a liar and a thief--three excellent +reasons for killing any man, if one can. Moreover he struck her +once--with that silver paper cutter which she insists on using--and I +saw it from a distance. Then I killed him. Unluckily I was very angry +and made a little mistake, so that he lived twelve hours, and she had +time to get a priest and marry him. She always pretends that he struck +her in play, by accident, as he was showing her something about fencing. +I was in the next room and the door was open--it did not look like play. +And she still thinks that he was the paragon of all virtues. He was a +handsome devil--something like you, but shorter, with a bad eye. I am +glad I killed him." + +Spicca had looked steadily at Orsino while speaking. When he ceased, he +began to walk about the small room with something of his old energy. +Orsino roused himself. He had almost begun to forget his own position in +the interest of listening to the count's short story. + +"So much for Aranjuez," said Spicca. "Let us hear no more of him. As for +this mad plan of yours, you are convinced, I suppose, and you will give +it up. Go home and decide in the morning. For my part, I tell you it is +useless. She will not marry you. Therefore leave her alone and do +nothing which can injure her." + +"I am not convinced," answered Orsino doggedly. + +"Then you are not your father's son. No Saracinesca that I ever knew +would do what you mean to do--would wantonly tarnish the good name of a +woman--of a woman who loves him too--and whose only fault is that she +cannot marry him." + +"That she will not." + +"That she cannot." + +"Do you give me your word that she cannot?" + +"She is legally free to marry whom she pleases, with or without my +consent." + +"That is all I want to know. The rest is nothing to me--" + +"The rest is a great deal. I beg you to consider all I have said, and I +am sure that you will, quite sure. There are very good reasons for not +telling you or any one else all the details I know in this story--so +good that I would rather go to the length of a quarrel with you than +give them all. I am an old man, Orsino, and what is left of life does +not mean much to me. I will sacrifice it to prevent your opening this +door unless you tell me that you give up the idea of leaving Rome +to-night." + +As he spoke he placed himself before the closed door and faced the young +man. He was old, emaciated, physically broken down, and his hands were +empty. Orsino was in his first youth, tall, lean, active and very +strong, and no coward. He was moreover in an ugly humour and inclined to +be violent on much smaller provocation than he had received. But Spicca +imposed upon him, nevertheless, for he saw that he was in earnest. +Orsino was never afterwards able to recall exactly what passed through +his mind at that moment. He was physically able to thrust Spicca aside +and to open the door, without so much as hurting him. He did not +believe that, even in that case, the old man would have insisted upon +the satisfaction of arms, nor would he have been afraid to meet him if a +duel had been required. He knew that what withheld him from an act of +violence was neither fear nor respect for his adversary's weakness and +age. Yet he was quite unable to define the influence which at last broke +down his resolution. It was in all probability only the resultant of the +argument Spicca had brought to bear and which Maria Consuelo had herself +used in the first instance, and of Spicca's calm, undaunted personality. + +The crisis did not last long. The two men faced each other for ten +seconds and then Orsino turned away with an impatient movement of the +shoulders. + +"Very well," he said. "I will not go with her." + +"It is best so," answered Spicca, leaving the door and returning to his +seat. + +"I suppose that she will let you know where she is, will she not?" asked +Orsino. + +"Yes. She will write to me." + +"Good-night, then." + +"Good-night." + +Without shaking hands, and almost without a glance at the old man, +Orsino left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +Orsino walked slowly homeward, trying to collect his thoughts and to +reach some distinct determination with regard to the future. He was +oppressed by the sense of failure and disappointment and felt inclined +to despise himself for his weakness in yielding so easily. To all +intents and purposes he had lost Maria Consuelo, and if he had not lost +her through his own fault, he had at least tamely abandoned what had +seemed like a last chance of winning her back. As he thought of all that +had happened he tried to fix some point in the past, at which he might +have acted differently, and from which another act of consequence might +have begun. But that was not easy. Events had followed each other with a +certain inevitable logic, which only looked unreasonable because he +suspected the existence of facts beyond his certain knowledge. His great +mistake had been in going to Spicca, but nothing could have been more +natural, under the circumstances, than his appeal to Maria Consuelo's +father, nothing more unexpected than the latter's determined refusal to +help him. That there was weight in the argument used by both Spicca and +Maria Consuelo herself, he could not deny; but he failed to see why the +marriage was so utterly impossible as they both declared it to be. There +must be much more behind the visible circumstances than he could guess. + +He tried to comfort himself with the assurance that he could leave Rome +on the following day, and that Spicca would not refuse to give him Maria +Consuelo's address in Paris. But the consolation he derived from the +idea was small. He found himself wondering at the recklessness shown by +the woman he loved in escaping from him. His practical Italian mind +could hardly understand how she could have changed all her plans in a +moment, abandoning her half-furnished apartment without a word of notice +even to the workmen, throwing over her intention of spending the winter +in Rome as though she had not already spent many thousands in preparing +her dwelling, and going away, probably, without as much as leaving a +representative to wind up her accounts. It may seem strange that a man +as much in love as Orsino was should think of such details at such a +moment. Perhaps he looked upon them rather as proofs that she meant to +come back after all; in any case he thought of them seriously, and even +calculated roughly the sum she would be sacrificing if she stayed away. + +Beyond all he felt the dismal loneliness which a man can only feel when +he is suddenly and effectually parted from the woman he dearly loves, +and which is not like any other sensation of which the human heart is +capable. + +More than once, up to the last possible moment, he was tempted to drive +to the station and leave with Maria Consuelo after all, but he would not +break the promise he had given Spicca, no matter how weak he had been in +giving it. + +On reaching his home he was informed, to his great surprise, that San +Giacinto was waiting to see him. He could not remember that his cousin +had ever before honoured him with a visit and he wondered what could +have brought him now and induced him to wait, just at the hour when most +people were at dinner. + +The giant was reading the evening paper, with the help of a particularly +strong cigar. + +"I am glad you have come home," he said, rising and taking the young +man's outstretched hand. "I should have waited until you did." + +"Has anything happened?" asked Orsino nervously. It struck him that San +Giacinto might be the bearer of some bad news about his people, and the +grave expression on the strongly marked face helped the idea. + +"A great deal is happening. The crash has begun. You must get out of +your business in less than three days if you can." + +Orsino drew a breath of relief at first, and then grew grave in his +turn, realising that unless matters were very serious such a man as San +Giacinto would not put himself to the inconvenience of coming. San +Giacinto was little given to offering advice unasked, still less to +interfering in the affairs of others. + +"I understand," said Orsino. "You think that everything is going to +pieces. I see." + +The big man looked at his young cousin with something like pity. + +"If I only suspected, or thought--as you put it--that there was to be a +collapse of business, I should not have taken the trouble to warn you. +The crash has actually begun. If you can save yourself, do so at once." + +"I think I can," answered the young man, bravely. But he did not at all +see how his salvation was to be accomplished. "Can you tell me a little +more definitely what is the matter? Have there been any more failures +to-day?" + +"My brother-in-law Montevarchi is on the point of stopping payment," +said San Giacinto calmly. + +"Montevarchi!" + +Orsino did not conceal his astonishment. + +"Yes. Do not speak of it. And he is in precisely the same position, so +far as I can judge of your affairs, as you yourself, though of course he +has dealt with sums ten times as great. He will make enormous sacrifices +and will pay, I suppose, after all. But he will be quite ruined. He also +has worked with Del Fence's bank." + +"And the bank refuses to discount any more of his paper?" + +"Precisely. Since this afternoon." + +"Then it will refuse to discount mine to-morrow." + +"Have you acceptances due to-morrow?" + +"Yes--not much, but enough to make the trouble. It will be Saturday, +too, and we must have money for the workmen." + +"Have you not even enough in reserve for that?" + +"Perhaps. I cannot tell. Besides, if the bank refuses to renew I cannot +draw a cheque." + +"I am sorry for you. If I had known yesterday how near the end was, I +would have warned you." + +"Thanks. I am grateful as it is. Can you give me any advice?" + +Orsino had a vague idea that his rich cousin would generously propose to +help him out of his difficulties. He was not quite sure whether he could +bring himself to accept such assistance, but he more than half expected +that it would be offered. In this, however, he was completely mistaken. +San Giacinto had not the smallest intention of offering anything more +substantial than his opinion. Considering that his wife's brother's +liabilities amounted to something like five and twenty millions, this +was not surprising. The giant bit his cigar and folded his long arms +over his enormous chest, leaning back in the easy chair which creaked +under his weight. + +"You have tried yourself in business by this time, Orsino," he said, +"and you know as well as I what there is to be done. You have three +modes of action open to you. You can fail. It is a simple affair enough. +The bank will take your buildings for what they will be worth a few +months hence, on the day of liquidation. There will be a big deficit, +which your father will pay for you and deduct from your share of the +division at his death. That is one plan, and seems to me the best. It is +perfectly honourable, and you lose by it. Secondly, you can go to your +father to-morrow and ask him to lend you money to meet your acceptances +and to continue the work until the houses are finished and can be sold. +They will ultimately go for a quarter of their value, if you can sell +them at all within the year, and you will be in your father's debt, +exactly as in the other case. You would avoid the publicity of a +failure, but it would cost you more, because the houses will not be +worth much more when they are finished than they are now." + +"And the third plan--what is it?" inquired Orsino. + +"The third way is this. You can go to Del Ferice, and if you are a +diplomatist you may persuade him that it is in his interest not to let +you fail. I do not think you will succeed, but you can try. If he agrees +it will be because he counts on your father to pay in the end, but it is +questionable whether Del Ferice's bank can afford to let out any more +cash at the present moment. Money is going to be very tight, as they +say." + +Orsino smoked in silence, pondering over the situation. San Giacinto +rose. + +"You are warned, at all events," he said. "You will find a great change +for the worse in the general aspect of things to-morrow." + +"I am much obliged for the warning," answered Orsino. "I suppose I can +always find you if I need your advice--and you will advise me?" + +"You are welcome to my advice, such as it is, my dear boy. But as for +me, I am going towards Naples to-night on business, and I may not be +back again for a day or two. If you get into serious trouble before I am +here again, you should go to your father at once. He knows nothing of +business, and has been sensible enough to keep out of it. The +consequence is that he is as rich as ever, and he would sacrifice a +great deal rather than see your name dragged into the publicity of a +failure. Good-night, and good luck to you." + +Thereupon the Titan shook Orsino's hand in his mighty grip and went +away. As a matter of fact he was going down to look over one of +Montevarchi's biggest estates with a view to buying it in the coming +cataclysm, but it would not have been like him to communicate the +smallest of his intentions to Orsino, or to any one, not excepting his +wife and his lawyer. + +Orsino was left to his own devices and meditations. A servant came in +and inquired whether he wished to dine at home, and he ordered strong +coffee by way of a meal. He was at the age when a man expects to find a +way out of his difficulties in an artificial excitement of the nerves. + +Indeed, he had enough to disturb him, for it seemed as though all +possible misfortunes had fallen upon him at once. He had suffered on the +same day the greatest shock to his heart, and the greatest blow to his +vanity which he could conceive possible. Maria Consuelo was gone and the +failure of his business was apparently inevitable. When he tried to +review the three plans which San Giacinto had suggested, he found +himself suddenly thinking of the woman he loved and making schemes for +following her; but so soon as he had transported himself in imagination +to her side and was beginning to hope that he might win her back, he +was torn away and plunged again into the whirlpool of business at home, +struggling with unheard of difficulties and sinking deeper at every +stroke. + +A hundred times he rose from his chair and paced the floor impatiently, +and a hundred times he threw himself down again, overcome by the +hopelessness of the situation. Occasionally he found a little comfort in +the reflexion that the night could not last for ever. When the day came +he would be driven to act, in one way or another, and he would be +obliged to consult his partner, Contini. Then at last his mind would be +able to follow one connected train of thought for a time, and he would +get rest of some kind. + +Little by little, however, and long before the day dawned, the +dominating influence asserted itself above the secondary one and he was +thinking only of Maria Consuelo. Throughout all that night she was +travelling, as she would perhaps travel throughout all the next day and +the second night succeeding that. For she was strong and having once +determined upon the journey would very probably go to the end of it +without stopping to rest. He wondered whether she too were waking +through all those long hours, thinking of what she had left behind, or +whether she had closed her eyes and found the peace of sleep for which +he longed in vain. He thought of her face, softly lighted by the dim +lamp of the railway carriage, and fancied he could actually see it with +the delicate shadows, the subdued richness of colour, the settled look +of sadness. When the picture grew dim, he recalled it by a strong +effort, though he knew that each time it rose before his eyes he must +feel the same sharp thrust of pain, followed by the same dull wave of +hopeless misery which had ebbed and flowed again so many times since he +had parted from her. + +At last he roused himself, looked about him as though he were in a +strange place, lighted a candle and betook himself to his own quarters. +It was very late, and he was more tired than he knew, for in spite of +all his troubles he fell asleep and did not awake till the sun was +streaming into the room. + +Some one knocked at the door, and a servant announced that Signor +Contini was waiting to see Don Orsino. The man's face expressed a sort +of servile surprise when he saw that Orsino had not undressed for the +night and had been sleeping on the divan. He began to busy himself with +the toilet things as though expecting Orsino to take some thought for +his appearance. But the latter was anxious to see Contini at once, and +sent for him. + +The architect was evidently very much disturbed. He was as pale as +though he had just recovered from a long illness and he seemed to have +grown suddenly emaciated during the night. He spoke in a low, excited +tone. + +In substance he told Orsino what San Giacinto had said on the previous +evening. Things looked very black indeed, and Del Ferice's bank had +refused to discount any more of Prince Montevarchi's paper. + +"And we must have money to-day," Contini concluded. + +When he had finished speaking his excitement disappeared and he relapsed +into the utmost dejection. Orsino remained silent for some time and then +lit a cigarette. + +"You need not be so down-hearted, Contini," he said at last. "I shall +not have any difficulty in getting money--you know that. What I feel +most is the moral failure." + +"What is the moral failure to me?" asked Contini gloomily. "It is all +very well to talk of getting money. The bank will shut its tills like a +steel trap and to-day is Saturday, and there are the workmen and others +to be paid, and several bills due into the bargain. Of course your +family can give you millions--in time. But we need cash to-day. That is +the trouble." + +"I suppose the state telegraph is not destroyed because Prince +Montevarchi cannot meet his acceptances," observed Orsino. "And I +imagine that our steward here in the house has enough cash for our +needs, and will not hesitate to hand it to me if he receives a telegram +from my father ordering him to do so. Whether he has enough to take up +the bills or not, I do not know; but as to-day is Saturday we have all +day to-morrow to make arrangements. I could even go out to Saracinesca +and be back on Monday morning when the bank opens." + +"You seem to take a hopeful view." + +"I have not the least hope of saving the business. But the question of +ready money does not of itself disturb me." + +This was undoubtedly true, but it was also undeniable that Orsino now +looked upon the prospect of failure with more equanimity than on the +previous evening. On the other hand he felt even more keenly than before +all the pain of his sudden separation from Maria Consuelo. When a man is +assailed, by several misfortunes at once, twenty-four hours are +generally enough to sift the small from the great and to show him +plainly which is the greatest of all. + +"What shall we do this morning?" inquired Contini. + +"You ask the question as though you were going to propose a picnic," +answered Orsino. "I do not see why this morning need be so different +from other mornings." + +"We must stop the works instantly--" + +"Why? At all events we will change nothing until we find out the real +state of business. The first thing to be done is to go to the bank as +usual on Saturdays. We shall then know exactly what to do." + +Contini shook his head gloomily and went away to wait in another room +while Orsino dressed. An hour later they were at the bank. Contini grew +paler than ever. The head clerk would of course inform them that no more +bills would be discounted, and that they must meet those already out +when they fell due. He would also tell them that the credit balance of +their account current would not be at their disposal until their +acceptances were met. Orsino would probably at last believe that the +situation was serious, though he now looked so supremely and scornfully +indifferent to events. + +They waited some time. Several men were engaged in earnest conversation, +and their faces told plainly enough that they were in trouble. The head +clerk was standing with them, and made a sign to Orsino, signifying that +they would soon go. Orsino watched him. From time to time he shook his +head and made gestures which indicated his utter inability to do +anything for them. Contini's courage sank lower and lower. + +"I will ask for Del Ferice at once," said Orsino. + +He accordingly sought out one of the men who wore the bank's livery and +told him to take his card to the count. + +"The Signor Commendatore is not coming this morning," answered the man +mysteriously. + +Orsino went back to the head clerk, interrupting his conversation with +the others. He inquired if it were true that Del Ferice were not coming. + +"It is not probable," answered the clerk with a grave face. "They say +that the Signora Contessa is not likely to live through the day." + +"Is Donna Tullia ill?" asked Orsino in considerable astonishment. + +"She returned from Naples yesterday morning, and was taken ill in the +afternoon--it is said to be apoplexy," he added in a low voice. "If you +will have patience Signor Principe, I will be at your disposal in five +minutes." + +Orsino was obliged to be satisfied and sat down again by Contini. He +told him the news of Del Ferice's wife. + +"That will make matters worse," said Contini. + +"It will not improve them," answered Orsino indifferently. "Considering +the state of affairs I would like to see Del Ferice before speaking with +any of the others." + +"Those men are all involved with Prince Montevarchi," observed Contini, +watching the group of which the head clerk was the central figure. "You +can see by their faces what they think of the business. The short, grey +haired man is the steward--the big man is the architect. The others are +contractors. They say it is not less than thirty millions." + +Orsino said nothing. He was thinking of Maria Consuelo and wishing that +he could get away from Rome that night, while admitting that there was +no possibility of such a thing. Meanwhile the head clerk's gestures to +his interlocutors expressed more and more helplessness. At last they +went out in a body. + +"And now I am at your service, Signor Principe," said the grave man of +business coming up to Orsino and Contini. "The usual accommodation, I +suppose? We will just look over the bills and make out the new ones. It +will not take ten minutes. The usual cash, I suppose, Signor Principe? +Yes, to-day is Saturday and you have your men to pay. Quite as usual, +quite as usual. Will you come into my office?" + +Orsino looked at Contini, and Contini looked at Orsino, grasping the +back of a chair to steady himself. + +"Then there is no difficulty about discounting?" stammered Contini, +turning his face, now suddenly flushed, towards the clerk. + +"None whatever," answered the latter with an air of real or affected +surprise. "I have received the usual instructions to let Andrea Contini +and Company have all the money they need." + +He turned and led the way to his private office. Contini walked +unsteadily. Orsino showed no astonishment, but his black eyes grew a +little brighter than usual as he anticipated his next interview with San +Giacinto. He readily attributed his good fortune to the supposed +well-known prosperity of the firm, and he rose in his own estimation. He +quite forgot that Contini, who had now lost his head, had but yesterday +clearly foreseen the future when he had said that Del Ferice would not +let the two partners fail until they had fitted the last door and the +last window in the last of their houses. The conclusion had struck him +as just at the time. Contini was the first to recall it. + +"It will turn out, as I said," he began, when they were driving to their +office in a cab after leaving the bank. "He will let us live until we +are worth eating." + +"We will arrange matters on a firmer basis before that," answered Orsino +confidently. "Poor old Donna Tullia! Who would have thought that she +could die! I will stop and ask for news as we pass." + +He stopped the cab before the gilded gate of the detached house. +Glancing up, he saw that the shutters were closed. The porter came to +the bars but did not show any intention of opening. + +"The Signora Contessa is dead," he said solemnly, in answer to Orsino's +inquiry. + +"This morning?" + +"Two hours ago." + +Orsino's face grew grave as he left his card of condolence and turned +away. He could hardly have named a person more indifferent to him than +poor Donna Tullia, but he could not help feeling an odd regret at the +thought that she was gone at last with all her noisy vanity, her +restless meddlesomeness and her perpetual chatter. She had not been old +either, though he called her so, and there had seemed to be still a +superabundance of life in her. There had been yet many years of +rattling, useless, social life before her. To-morrow she would have +taken her last drive through Rome--out through the gate of Saint +Lawrence to the Campo Varano, there to wait many years perhaps for the +pale and half sickly Ugo, of whom every one had said for years that he +could not live through another twelve month with the disease of the +heart which threatened him. Of late, people had even begun to joke about +Donna Tullia's third husband. Poor Donna Tullia! + +Orsino went to his office with Contini and forced himself through the +usual round of work. Occasionally he was assailed by a mad desire to +leave Rome at once, but he opposed it and would not yield. Though his +affairs had gone well beyond his expectation the present crisis made it +impossible to abandon his business, unless he could get rid of it +altogether. And this he seriously contemplated. He knew however, or +thought he knew, that Contini would be ruined without him. His own name +was the one which gave the paper its value and decided Del Ferice to +continue the advances of money. The time was past when Contini would +gladly have accepted his partner's share of the undertaking, and would +even have tried to raise funds to purchase it. To retire now would be +possible only if he could provide for the final liquidation of the +whole, and this he could only do by applying to his father or mother, in +other words by acknowledging himself completely beaten in his struggle +for independence. + +The day ended at last and was succeeded by the idleness of Sunday. A +sort of listless indifference came over Orsino, the reaction, no doubt, +after all the excitement through which he had passed. It seemed to him +that Maria Consuelo had never loved him, and that it was better after +all that she should be gone. He longed for the old days, indeed, but as +she now appeared to him in his meditations he did not wish her back. He +had no desire to renew the uncertain struggle for a love which she +denied in the end; and this mood showed, no doubt, that his own passion +was less violent than he had himself believed. When a man loves with his +whole nature, undividedly, he is not apt to submit to separations +without making a strong effort to reunite himself, by force, persuasion +or stratagem, with the woman who is trying to escape from him. Orsino +was conscious of having at first felt the inclination to make such an +attempt even more strongly than he had shown it, but he was conscious +also that the interval of two days had been enough to reduce the wish to +follow Maria Consuelo in such a way that he could hardly understand +having ever entertained it. + +Unsatisfied passion wears itself out very soon. The higher part of love +may and often does survive in such cases, and the passionate impulses +may surge up after long quiescence as fierce and dangerous as ever. But +it is rarely indeed that two unsatisfied lovers who have parted by the +will of the one or of both can meet again without the consciousness that +the experimental separation has chilled feelings once familiar and +destroyed illusions once more than dear. In older times, perhaps, men +and women loved differently. There was more solitude in those days than +now, for what is called society was not invented, and people generally +were more inclined to sadness from living much alone. Melancholy is a +great strengthener of faithfulness in love. Moreover at that time the +modern fight for life had not begun, men as a rule had few interests +besides love and war, and women no interests at all beyond love. We +moderns should go mad if we were suddenly forced to lead the lives led +by knights and ladies in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The +monotonous round of such an existence in time of peace would make idiots +of us, the horrors of that old warfare would make many of us maniacs. +But it is possible that youths and maidens would love more faithfully +and wait longer for each other than they will or can to-day. It is +questionable whether Bayard would have understood a single page of a +modern love story, Tancred would certainly not have done so; but Caesar +would have comprehended our lives and our interests without effort, and +Catullus could have described us as we are, for one great civilization +is very like another where the same races are concerned. + +In the days which followed Maria Consuelo's departure, Orsino came to a +state of indifference which surprised himself. He remembered that when +she had gone away in the spring he had scarcely missed her, and that he +had not thought his own coldness strange, since he was sure that he had +not loved her then. But that he had loved her now, during her last stay +in Rome, he was sure, and he would have despised himself if he had not +been able to believe that he loved her still. Yet, if he was not glad +that she had quitted him, he was at least strangely satisfied at being +left alone, and the old fancy for analysis made him try to understand +himself. The attempt was fruitless, of course, but it occupied his +thoughts. + +He met Spicca in the street, and avoided him. He imagined that the old +man must despise him for not having resisted and followed Maria Consuelo +after all. The hypothesis was absurd and the conclusion vain, but he +could not escape the idea, and it annoyed him. He was probably ashamed +of not having acted recklessly, as a man should who is dominated by a +master passion, and yet he was inwardly glad that he had not been +allowed to yield to the first impulse. + +The days succeeded each other and a week passed away, bringing Saturday +again and the necessity for a visit to the bank. Business had been in a +very bad state since it had been known that Montevarchi was ruined. So +far, he had not stopped payment and although the bank refused discount +he had managed to find money with which to meet his engagements. +Probably, as San Giacinto had foretold, he would pay everything and +remain a very poor man indeed. But, although many persons knew this, +confidence was not restored. Del Ferice declared that he believed +Montevarchi solvent, as he believed every one with whom his bank dealt +to be solvent to the uttermost centime, but that he could lend no more +money to any one on any condition whatsoever, because neither he nor the +bank had any to lend. Every one, he said, had behaved honestly, and he +proposed to eclipse the honesty of every one by the frank acknowledgment +of his own lack of cash. He was distressed, he said, overcome by the +sufferings of his friends and clients, ready to sell his house, his +jewelry and his very boots, in the Roman phrase, to accommodate every +one; but he was conscious that the demand far exceeded any supply which +he could furnish, no matter at what personal sacrifice, and as it was +therefore impossible to help everybody, it would be unjust to help a +few where all were equally deserving. + +In the meanwhile he proved the will of his deceased wife, leaving him +about four and a half millions of francs unconditionally, and half a +million more to be devoted to some public charity at Ugo's discretion, +for the repose of Donna Tullia's unquiet spirit. It is needless to say +that the sorrowing husband determined to spend the legacy magnificently +in the improvement of the town represented by him in parliament. A part +of the improvement would consist in a statue of Del Ferice +himself--representing him, perhaps, as he had escaped from Rome, in the +garb of a Capuchin friar, but with the addition of an army revolver to +show that he had fought for Italian unity, though when or where no man +could tell. But it is worth noting that while he protested his total +inability to discount any one's bills, Andrea Contini and Company +regularly renewed their acceptances when due and signed new ones for any +amount of cash they required. The accommodation was accompanied with a +request that it should not be mentioned. Orsino took the money +indifferently enough, conscious that he had three fortunes at his back +in case of trouble, but Contini grew more nervous as time went on and +the sums on paper increased in magnitude, while the chances of disposing +of the buildings seemed reduced to nothing in the stagnation which had +already set in. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +At this time Count Spicca received a letter from Maria Consuelo, written +from Nice and bearing a postmark more recent than the date which headed +the page, a fact which proved that the writer had either taken an +unusually long time in the composition or had withheld the missive +several days before finally despatching it. + +"My father--I write to inform you of certain things which have recently +taken place and which it is important that you should know, and of which +I should have the right to require an explanation if I chose to ask it. +Having been the author of my life, you have made yourself also the +author of all my unhappiness and of all my trouble. I have never +understood the cause of your intense hatred for me, but I have felt its +consequences, even at a great distance from you, and you know well +enough that I return it with all my heart. Moreover I have made up my +mind that I will not be made to suffer by you any longer. I tell you so +quite frankly. This is a declaration of war, and I will act upon it +immediately. + +"You are no doubt aware that Don Orsino Saracinesca has for a long time +been among my intimate friends. I will not discuss the question, whether +I did well to admit him to my intimacy or not. That, at least, does not +concern you. Even admitting your power to exercise the most complete +tyranny over me in other ways, I am and have always been free to choose +my own acquaintances, and I am able to defend myself better than most +women, and as well as any. I will be just, too. I do not mean to +reproach you with the consequences of what I do. But I will not spare +you where the results of your action towards me are concerned. + +"Don Orsino made love to me last spring. I loved him from the first. I +can hear your cruel laugh and see your contemptuous face as I write. But +the information is necessary, and I can bear your scorn because this is +the last opportunity for such diversion which I shall afford you, and +because I mean that you shall pay dearly for it. I loved Don Orsino, and +I love him still. You, of course, have never loved. You have hated, +however, and perhaps one passion may be the measure of another. It is in +my case, I can assure you, for the better I love, the better I learn to +hate you. + +"Last Thursday Don Orsino asked me to be his wife. I had known for some +time that he loved me and I knew that he would speak of it before long. +The day was sultry at first and then there was a thunderstorm. My nerves +were unstrung and I lost my head. I told him that I loved him. That does +not concern you. I told him, also, however, that I had given a solemn +promise to my dying husband, and I had still the strength to say that I +would not marry again. I meant to gain time, I longed to be alone, I +knew that I should yield, but I would not yield blindly. Thank God, I +was strong. I am like you in that, though happily not in any other way. +You ask me why I should even think of yielding. I answer that I love Don +Orsino better than I loved the man you murdered. There is nothing +humiliating in that, and I make the confession without reserve. I love +him better, and therefore, being human, I would have broken my promise +and married him, had marriage been possible. But it is not, as you know. +It is one thing to turn to the priest as he stands by a dying man and to +say, Pronounce us man and wife, and give us a blessing, for the sake of +this man's rest. The priest knew that we were both free, and took the +responsibility upon himself, knowing also that the act could have no +consequences in fact, whatever it might prove to be in theory. It is +quite another matter to be legally married to Don Orsino Saracinesca, in +the face of a strong opposition. But I went home that evening, believing +that it could be done and that the opposition would vanish. I believed +because I loved. I love still, but what I learned that night has killed +my belief in an impossible happiness. + +"I need not tell you all that passed between me and Lucrezia Ferris. How +she knew of what had happened I cannot tell. She must have followed us +to the apartment I was furnishing, and she must have overheard what we +said, or seen enough to convince her. She is a spy. I suppose that is +the reason why she is imposed upon me, and always has been, since I can +remember--since I was born, she says. I found her waiting to dress me as +usual, and as usual I did not speak to her. She spoke first. 'You will +not marry Don Orsino Saracinesca,' she said, facing me with her bad +eyes. I could have struck her, but I would not. I asked her what she +meant. She told me that she knew what I was doing, and asked me whether +I was aware that I needed documents in order to be married to a beggar +in Rome, and whether I supposed that the Saracinesca would be inclined +to overlook the absence of such papers, or could pass a law of their own +abolishing the necessity for them, or, finally, whether they would +accept such certificates of my origin as she could produce. She showed +me a package. She had nothing better to offer me, she said, but such as +she had, she heartily placed at my disposal. I took the papers. I was +prepared for a shock, but not for the blow I received. + +"You know what I read. The certificate of my birth as the daughter of +Lucrezia Ferris, unmarried, by Count Spicca who acknowledged the child +as his--and the certificate of your marriage with Lucrezia Ferris, +dated--strangely enough a fortnight after my birth--and further a +document legitimizing me as the lawful daughter of you two. All these +documents are from Monte Carlo. You will understand why I am in Nice. +Yes--they are all genuine, every one of them, as I have had no +difficulty in ascertaining. So I am the daughter of Lucrezia Ferris, +born out of wedlock and subsequently whitewashed into a sort of +legitimacy. And Lucrezia Ferris is lawfully the Countess Spicca. +Lucrezia Ferris, the cowardly spy-woman who more than half controls my +life, the lying, thieving servant--she robs me at every turn--the +common, half educated Italian creature,--she is my mother, she is that +radiant being of whom you sometimes speak with tears in your eyes, she +is that angel of whom I remind you, she is that sweet influence that +softened and brightened your lonely life for a brief space some three +and twenty years ago! She has changed since then. + +"And this is the mystery of my birth which you have concealed from me, +and which it was at any moment in the power of my vile mother to reveal. +You cannot deny the fact, I suppose, especially since I have taken the +trouble to search the registers and verify each separate document. + +"I gave them all back to her, for I shall never need them. The woman--I +mean my mother--was quite right. I shall not marry Don Orsino +Saracinesca. You have lied to me throughout my life. You have always +told me that my mother was dead, and that I need not be ashamed of my +birth, though you wished it kept a secret. So far, I have obeyed you. In +that respect, and only in that, I will continue to act according to your +wishes. I am not called upon to proclaim to the world and my +acquaintance that I am the daughter of my own servant, and that you were +kind enough to marry your estimable mistress after my birth in order to +confer upon me what you dignify by the name of legitimacy. No. That is +not necessary. If it could hurt you to proclaim it I would do so in the +most public way I could find. But it is folly to suppose that you could +be made to suffer by so simple a process. + +"Are you aware, my father, that you have ruined all my life from the +first? Being so bad, you must be intelligent and you must realise what +you have done, even if you have done it out of pure love of evil. You +pretended to be kind to me, until I was old enough to feel all the pain +you had in store for me. But even then, after you had taken the trouble +to marry my mother, why did you give me another name? Was that +necessary? I suppose it was. I did not understand then why my older +companions looked askance at me in the convent, nor why the nuns +sometimes whispered together and looked at me. They knew perhaps that no +such name as mine existed. Since I was your daughter why did I not bear +your name when I was a little girl? You were ashamed to let it be known +that you were married, seeing what sort of wife you had taken, and you +found yourself in a dilemma. If you had acknowledged me as your daughter +in Austria, your friends in Rome would soon have found out my +existence--and the existence of your wife. You were very cautious in +those days, but you seem to have grown careless of late, or you would +not have left those papers in the care of the Countess Spicca, my +maid--and my mother. I have heard that very bad men soon reach their +second childhood and act foolishly. It is quite true. + +"Then, later, when you saw that I loved, and was loved, and was to be +happy, you came between my love and me. You appeared in your own +character as a liar, a slanderer and a traitor. I loved a man who was +brave, honourable, faithful--reckless, perhaps, and wild as such men +are--but devoted and true. You came between us. You told me that he was +false, cowardly, an adventurer of the worst kind. Because I would not +believe you, and would have married him in spite of you, you killed him. +Was it cowardly of him to face the first swordsman in Europe? They told +me that he was not afraid of you, the men who saw it, and that he fought +you like a lion, as he was. And the provocation, too! He never struck +me. He was showing me what he meant by a term in fencing--the silver +knife he held grazed my cheek because I was startled and moved. But you +meant to kill him, and you chose to say that he had struck me. Did you +ever hear a harsh word from his lips during those months of waiting? +When you had done your work you fled--like the murderer you were and +are. But I escaped from the woman who says she is my mother--and is--and +I went to him and found him living and married him. You used to tell me +that he was an adventurer and little better than a beggar. Yet he left +me a large fortune. It is as well that he provided for me, since you +have succeeded in losing most of your own money at play--doubtless to +insure my not profiting by it at your death. Not that you will die--men +of your kind outlive their victims, because they kill them. + +"And now, when you saw--for you did see it--when you saw and knew that +Orsino Saracinesca and I loved each other, you have broken my life a +second time. You might so easily have gone to him, or have come to me, +at the first, with the truth. You know that I should never forgive you +for what you had done already. A little more could have made matters no +worse then. You knew that Don Orsino would have thanked you as a friend +for the warning. Instead--I refuse to believe you in your dotage after +all--you make that woman spy upon me until the great moment is come, you +give her the weapons and you bid her strike when the blow will be most +excruciating. You are not a man. You are Satan. I parted twice from the +man I love. He would not let me go, and he came back and tried to keep +me--I do not know how I escaped. God helped me. He is so brave and noble +that if he had held those accursed papers in his hands and known all the +truth he would not have given me up. He would have brought a stain on +his great name, and shame upon his great house for my sake. He is not +like you. I parted from him twice, I know all that I can suffer, and I +hate you for each individual suffering, great and small. + +"I have dismissed my mother from my service. How that would sound in +Rome! I have given her as much money as she can expect and I have got +rid of her. She said that she would not go, that she would write to you, +and many other things. I told her that if she attempted to stay I would +go to the authorities, prove that she was my mother, provide for her, if +the law required it and have her forcibly turned out of my house by the +aid of the same law. I am of age, married, independent, and I cannot be +obliged to entertain my mother either in the character of a servant, or +as a visitor. I suppose she has a right to a lodging under your roof. I +hope she will take advantage of it, as I advised her. She took the money +and went away, cursing me. I think that if she had ever, in all my life, +shown the smallest affection for me--even at the last, when she declared +herself my mother, if she had shown a spark of motherly feeling, of +tenderness, of anything human, I could have accepted her and tolerated +her, half peasant woman as she is, spy as she has been, and cheat and +thief. But she stood before me with the most perfect indifference, +watching my surprise with those bad eyes of hers. I wonder why I have +borne her presence so long. I suppose it had never struck me that I +could get rid of her, in spite of you, if I chose. By the bye, I sent +for a notary when I paid her, and I got a legal receipt signed with her +legal name, Lucrezia Spicca, _ta Ferris_. The document formally +releases me from all further claims. I hope you will understand that you +have no power whatsoever to impose her upon me again, though I confess +that I am expecting your next move with interest. I suppose that you +have not done with me yet, and have some new means of torment in +reserve. Satan is rarely idle long. + +"And now I have done. If you were not the villain you are, I should +expect you to go to the man whose happiness I have endangered, if not +destroyed. I should expect you to tell Don Orsino Saracinesca enough of +the truth to make him understand my action. But I know you far too well +to imagine that you would willingly take from my life one thorn of the +many you have planted in it. I will write to Don Orsino myself. I think +you need not fear him--I am sorry that you need not. But I shall not +tell him more than is necessary. You will remember, I hope, that such +discretion as I may show, is not shown out of consideration for you, but +out of forethought for my own welfare. I have unfortunately no means of +preventing you from writing to me, but you may be sure that your letters +will never be read, so that you will do as well to spare yourself the +trouble of composing them. + +"MARIA CONSUELO D'ARANJUEZ." + +Spicca received this letter early in the morning, and at mid-day he +still sat in his chair, holding it in his hand. His face was very white, +his head hung forward upon his breast, his thin fingers were stiffened +upon the thin paper. Only the hardly perceptible rise and fall of the +chest showed that he still breathed. + +The clocks had already struck twelve when his old servant entered the +room, a being thin, wizened, grey and noiseless as the ghost of a +greyhound. He stood still a moment before his master, expecting that he +would look up, then bent anxiously over him and felt his hands. + +Spicca slowly raised his sunken eyes. + +"It will pass, Santi--it will pass," he said feebly. + +Then he began to fold up the sheets slowly and with difficulty, but very +neatly, as men of extraordinary skill with their hands do everything. +Santi looked at him doubtfully and then got a glass and a bottle of +cordial from a small carved press in the corner. Spicca drank the +liqueur slowly and set the glass steadily upon the table. + +"Bad news, Signor Conte?" asked the servant anxiously, and in a way +which betrayed at once the kindly relations existing between the two. + +"Very bad news," Spicca answered sadly and shaking his head. + +Santi sighed, restored the cordial to the press and took up the glass, +as though he were about to leave the room. But he still lingered near +the table, glancing uneasily at his master as though he had something to +say, but was hesitating to begin. + +"What is it, Santi?" asked the count. + +"I beg your pardon, Signor Conte--you have had bad news--if you will +allow me to speak, there are several small economies which could still +be managed without too much inconveniencing you. Pardon the liberty, +Signor Conte." + +"I know, I know. But it is not money this time. I wish it were." + +Santi's expression immediately lost much of its anxiety. He had shared +his master's fallen fortunes and knew better than he what he meant by a +few more small economies, as he called them. + +"God be praised, Signor Conte," he said solemnly. "May I serve the +breakfast?" + +"I have no appetite, Santi. Go and eat yourself." + +"A little something?" Santi spoke in a coaxing way. "I have prepared a +little mixed fry, with toast, as you like it, Signor Conte, and the +salad is good to-day--ham and figs are also in the house. Let me lay the +cloth--when you see, you will eat--and just one egg beaten up with a +glass of red wine to begin--that will dispose the stomach." + +Spicca shook his head again, but Santi paid no attention to the refusal +and went about preparing the meal. When it was ready the old man +suffered himself to be persuaded and ate a little. He was in reality +stronger than he looked, and an extraordinary nervous energy still +lurked beneath the appearance of a feebleness almost amounting to +decrepitude. The little nourishment he took sufficed to restore the +balance, and when he rose from the table, he was outwardly almost +himself again. When a man has suffered great moral pain for years, he +bears a new shock, even the worst, better than one who is hard hit in +the midst of a placid and long habitual happiness. The soul can be +taught to bear trouble as the great self mortifiers of an earlier time +taught their bodies to bear scourging. The process is painful but +hardening. + +"I feel better, Santi," said Spicca. "Your breakfast has done me good. +You are an excellent doctor." + +He turned away and took out his pocket-book--not over well garnished. He +found a ten franc note. Then he looked round and spoke in a gentle, +kindly tone. + +"Santi--this trouble has nothing to do with money. You need a new pair +of shoes, I am sure. Do you think that ten francs is enough?" + +Santi bowed respectfully and took the money. + +"A thousand thanks, Signor Conte," he said. + +Santi was a strange man, from the heart of the Abruzzi. He pocketed the +note, but that night, when he had undressed his master and was arranging +the things on the dressing table, the ten francs found their way back +into the black pocket-book. Spicca never counted, and never knew. + +He did not write to Maria Consuelo, for he was well aware that in her +present state of mind she would undoubtedly burn his letter unopened, as +she had said she would. Late in the day he went out, walked for an hour, +entered the club and read the papers, and at last betook himself to the +restaurant where Orsino dined when his people were out of town. + +In due time, Orsino appeared, looking pale and ill tempered. He caught +sight of Spicca and went at once to the table where he sat. + +"I have had a letter," said the young man. "I must speak to you. If you +do not object, we will dine together." + +"By all means. There is nothing like a thoroughly bad dinner to promote +ill-feeling." + +Orsino glanced at the old man in momentary surprise. But he knew his +ways tolerably well, and was familiar with the chronic acidity of his +speech. + +"You probably guess who has written to me," Orsino resumed. "It was +natural, perhaps, that she should have something to say, but what she +actually says, is more than I was prepared to hear." + +Spicca's eyes grew less dull and he turned an inquiring glance on his +companion. + +"When I tell you that in this letter, Madame d'Aranjuez has confided to +me the true story of her origin, I have probably said enough," continued +the young man. + +"You have said too much or too little," Spicca answered in an almost +indifferent tone. + +"How so?" + +"Unless you tell me just what she has told you, or show me the letter, I +cannot possibly judge of the truth of the tale." + +Orsino raised his head angrily. + +"Do you mean me to doubt that Madame d'Aranjuez speaks the truth?" he +asked. + +"Calm yourself. Whatever Madame d'Aranjuez has written to you, she +believes to be true. But she may have been herself deceived." + +"In spite of documents--public registers--" + +"Ah! Then she has told you about those certificates?" + +"That--and a great deal more which concerns you." + +"Precisely. A great deal more. I know all about the registers, as you +may easily suppose, seeing that they concern two somewhat important acts +in my own life and that I was very careful to have those acts properly +recorded, beyond the possibility of denial--beyond the possibility of +denial," he repeated very slowly and emphatically. "Do you understand +that?" + +"It would not enter the mind of a sane person to doubt such evidence," +answered Orsino rather scornfully. + +"No, I suppose not. As you do not therefore come to me for confirmation +of what is already undeniable, I cannot understand why you come to me at +all in this matter, unless you do so on account of other things which +Madame d'Aranjuez has written you, and of which you have so far kept me +in ignorance." + +Spicca spoke with a formal manner and in cold tones, drawing up his bent +figure a little. A waiter came to the table and both men ordered their +dinner. The interruption rather favoured the development of a hostile +feeling between them, than otherwise. + +"I will explain my reasons for coming to find you here," said Orsino +when they were again alone. + +"So far as I am concerned, no explanation is necessary. I am content not +to understand. Moreover, this is a public place, in which we have +accidentally met and dined together before." + +"I did not come here by accident," answered Orsino. "And I did not come +in order to give explanations but to ask for one." + +"Ah?" Spicca eyed him coolly. + +"Yes. I wish to know why you have hated your daughter all her life, why +you persecute her in every way, why you--" + +"Will you kindly stop?" + +The old man's voice grew suddenly clear and incisive, and Orsino broke +off in the middle of his sentence. A moment's pause followed. + +"I requested you to stop speaking," Spicca resumed, "because you were +unconsciously making statements which have no foundation whatever in +fact. Observe that I say, unconsciously. You are completely mistaken. I +do not hate Madame d'Aranjuez. I love her with all my heart and soul. I +do not persecute her in every way, nor in any way. On the contrary, her +happiness is the only object of such life as I still have to live, and I +have little but that life left to give her. I am in earnest, Orsino." + +"I see you are. That makes what you say all the more surprising." + +"No doubt it does. Madame d'Aranjuez has just written to you, and you +have her letter in your pocket. She has told you in that letter a number +of facts in her own life, as she sees them, and you look at them as she +does. It is natural. To her and to you, I appear to be a monster of +evil, a hideous incarnation of cruelty, a devil in short. Did she call +me a devil in her letter?" + +"She did." + +"Precisely. She has also written to me, informing me that I am Satan. +There is a directness in the statement and a general disregard of +probability which is not without charm. Nevertheless, I am Spicca, and +not Beelzebub, her assurances to the contrary notwithstanding. You see +how views may differ. You know much of her life, but you know nothing of +mine, nor is it my intention to tell you anything about myself. But I +will tell you this much. If I could do anything to mend matters, I +would. If I could make it possible for you to marry Madame +d'Aranjuez--being what you are, and fenced in as you are, I would. If I +could tell you all the rest of the truth, which she does not know, nor +dream of, I would. I am bound by a very solemn promise of secrecy--by +something more than a promise in fact. Yet, if I could do good to her by +breaking oaths, betraying confidence and trampling on the deepest +obligations which can bind a man, I would. But that good cannot be done +any more. That is all I can tell you." + +"It is little enough. You could, and you can, tell the whole truth, as +you call it, to Madame d'Aranjuez. I would advise you to do so, instead +of embittering her life at every turn." + +"I have not asked for your advice, Orsino. That she is unhappy, I know. +That she hates me, is clear. She would not be the happier for hating me +less, since nothing else would be changed. She need not think of me, if +the subject is disagreeable. In all other respects she is perfectly +free. She is young, rich, and at liberty to go where she pleases and to +do what she likes. So long as I am alive, I shall watch over her--" + +"And destroy every chance of happiness which presents itself," +interrupted Orsino. + +"I gave you some idea, the other night, of the happiness she might have +enjoyed with the deceased Aranjuez. If I made a mistake in regard to +what I saw him do--I admit the possibility of an error--I was +nevertheless quite right in ridding her of the man. I have atoned for +the mistake, if we call it so, in a way of which you do not dream, nor +she either. The good remains, for Aranjuez is buried." + +"You speak of secret atonement--I was not aware that you ever suffered +from remorse." + +"Nor I," answered Spicca drily. + +"Then what do you mean?" + +"You are questioning me, and I have warned you that I will tell you +nothing about myself. You will confer a great favour upon me by not +insisting." + +"Are you threatening me again?" + +"I am not doing anything of the kind. I never threaten any one. I could +kill you as easily as I killed Aranjuez, old and decrepit as I look, and +I should be perfectly indifferent to the opprobrium of killing so young +a man--though I think that, looking at us two, many people might suppose +the advantage to be on your side rather than on mine. But young men +nowadays do not learn to handle arms. Short of laying violent hands upon +me, you will find it quite impossible to provoke me. I am almost old +enough to be your grandfather, and I understand you very well. You love +Madame d'Aranjuez. She knows that to marry you would be to bring about +such a quarrel with your family as might ruin half your life, and she +has the rare courage to tell you so and to refuse your offer. You think +that I can do something to help you and you are incensed because I am +powerless, and furious because I object to your leaving Rome in the same +train with her, against her will. You are more furious still to-day +because you have adopted her belief that I am a monster of iniquity. +Observe--that, apart from hindering you from a great piece of folly the +other day, I have never interfered. I do not interfere now. As I said +then, follow her if you please, persuade her to marry you if you can, +quarrel with all your family if you like. It is nothing to me. Publish +the banns of your marriage on the doors of the Capitol and declare to +the whole world that Madame d'Aranjuez, the future Princess Saracinesca, +is the daughter of Count Spicca and Lucrezia Ferris, his lawful wife. +There will be a little talk, but it will not hurt me. People have kept +their marriages a secret for a whole lifetime before now. I do not care +what you do, nor what the whole tribe of the Saracinesca may do, +provided that none of you do harm to Maria Consuelo, nor bring useless +suffering upon her. If any of you do that, I will kill you. That at +least is a threat, if you like. Good-night." + +Thereupon Spicca rose suddenly from his seat, leaving his dinner +unfinished, and went out. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +Orsino did not leave Rome after all. He was not in reality prevented +from doing so by the necessity of attending to his business, for he +might assuredly have absented himself for a week or two at almost any +time before the new year, without incurring any especial danger. From +time to time, at ever increasing intervals, he felt strongly impelled to +rejoin Maria Consuelo in Paris where she had ultimately determined to +spend the autumn and winter, but the impulse always lacked just the +measure of strength which would have made it a resolution. When he +thought of his many hesitations he did not understand himself and he +fell in his own estimation, so that he became by degrees more silent and +melancholy of disposition than had originally been natural with him. + +He had much time for reflection and he constantly brooded over the +situation in which he found himself. The question seemed to be, whether +he loved Maria Consuelo or not, since he was able to display such +apparent indifference to her absence. In reality he also doubted whether +he was loved by her, and the one uncertainty was fully as great as the +other. + +He went over all that had passed. The position had never been an easy +one, and the letter which Maria Consuelo had written to him after her +departure had not made it easier. It had contained the revelations +concerning her birth, together with many references to Spicca's +continued cruelty, plentifully supported by statements of facts. She had +then distinctly told Orsino that she would never marry him, under any +circumstances whatever, declaring that if he followed her she would not +even see him. She would not ruin his life and plunge him into a life +long quarrel with his family, she said, and she added that she would +certainly not expose herself to such treatment as she would undoubtedly +receive at the hands of the Saracinesca if she married Orsino without +his parents' consent. + +A man does not easily believe that he is deprived of what he most +desires exclusively for his own good and welfare, and the last sentence +quoted wounded Orsino deeply. He believed himself ready to incur the +displeasure of all his people for Maria Consuelo's sake, and he said in +his heart that if she loved him she should be ready to bear as much as +he. The language in which she expressed herself, too, was cold and +almost incisive. + +Unlike Spicca Orsino answered this letter, writing in an argumentative +strain, bringing the best reasons he could find to bear against those +she alleged, and at last reproaching her with not being willing to +suffer for his sake a tenth part of what he would endure for her. But he +announced his intention of joining her before long, and expressed the +certainty that she would receive him. + +To this Maria Consuelo made no reply for some time. When she wrote at +last, it was to say that she had carefully considered her decision and +saw no good cause for changing it. To Orsino her tone seemed colder and +more distant than ever. The fact that the pages were blotted here and +there and that the handwriting was unsteady, was probably to be referred +to her carelessness. He brooded over his misfortune, thought more than +once of making a desperate effort to win back her love, and remained in +Rome. After a long interval he wrote to her again. This time he produced +an epistle which, under the circumstances, might have seemed almost +ridiculous. It was full of indifferent gossip about society, it +contained a few sarcastic remarks about his own approaching failure, +with some rather youthfully cynical observations on the instability of +things in general and the hollowness of all aspirations whatsoever. + +He received no answer, and duly repented the flippant tone he had taken. +He would have been greatly surprised could he have learned that this +last letter was destined to produce a greater effect upon his life than +all he had written before it. + +In the meanwhile his father, who had heard of the increasing troubles in +the world of business, wrote him in a constant strain of warning, to +which he paid little attention. His mother's letters, too, betrayed her +anxiety, but expressed what his father's did not, to wit the most +boundless confidence in his power to extricate himself honourably from +all difficulties, together with the assurance that if worst came to +worst she was always ready to help him. + +Suddenly and without warning old Saracinesca returned from his +wanderings. He had taken the trouble to keep the family informed of his +movements by his secretary during two or three months and had then +temporarily allowed them to lose sight of him, thereby causing them +considerable anxiety, though an occasional paragraph in a newspaper +reassured them from time to time. Then, on a certain afternoon in +November, he appeared, alone and in a cab, as though he had been out for +a stroll. + +"Well, my boy, are you ruined yet?" he inquired, entering Orsino's room +without ceremony. + +The young man started from his seat and took the old gentleman's rough +hand, with an exclamation of surprise. + +"Yes--you may well look at me," laughed the Prince. "I have grown ten +years younger. And you?" He pushed his grandson into the light and +scrutinised his face fiercely. "And you are ten years older," he +concluded, in a discontented tone. + +"I did not know it," answered Orsino with an attempt at a laugh. + +"You have been at some mischief. I know it. I can see it." + +He dropped the young fellow's arm, shook his head and began to move +about the room. Then he came back all at once and looked up into +Orsino's face from beneath his bushy eyebrows. + +"Out with it, I mean to know!" he said, roughly but not unkindly. "Have +you lost money? Are you ill? Are you in love?" + +Orsino would certainly have resented the first and the last questions, +if not all three, had they been put to him by his father. There was +something in the old Prince's nature, something warmer and more human, +which appealed to his own. Sant' Ilario was, and always had been, +outwardly cold, somewhat measured in his speech, undemonstrative, a man +not easily moved to much expression or to real sympathy except by love, +but capable, under that influence, of going to great lengths. And +Orsino, though in some respects resembling his mother rather than his +father, was not unlike the latter, with a larger measure of ambition +and less real pride. It was probably the latter characteristic which +made him feel the need of sympathy in a way his father had never felt it +and could never understand it, and he was thereby drawn more closely to +his mother and to his grandfather than to Sant' Ilario. + +Old Saracinesca evidently meant to be answered, as he stood there gazing +into Orsino's eyes. + +"A great deal has happened since you went away," said Orsino, half +wishing that he could tell everything. "In the first place, business is +in a very bad state, and I am anxious." + +"Dirty work, business," grumbled Saracinesca. "I always told you so. +Then you have lost money, you young idiot! I thought so. Did you think +you were any better than Montevarchi? I hope you have kept your name out +of the market, at all events. What in the name of heaven made you put +your hand to such filth! Come--how much do you want? We will whitewash +you and you shall start to-morrow and go round the world." + +"But I am not in actual need of money at all--" + +"Then what the devil are you in need of?" + +"An improvement in business, and the assurance that I shall not +ultimately be bankrupt." + +"If money is not an assurance that you will not be bankrupt, I would +like to learn what is. All this is nonsense. Tell me the truth, my +boy--you are in love. That is the trouble." + +Orsino shrugged his shoulders. + +"I have been in love some time," he answered. + +"Young? Old? Marriageable? Married? Out with it, I say!" + +"I would rather talk about business. I think it is all over now." + +"Just like your father--always full of secrets! As if I did not know all +about it. You are in love with that Madame d'Aranjuez." + +Orsino turned a little pale. + +"Please do not call her 'that' Madame d'Aranjuez," he said, gravely. + +"Eh? What? Are you so sensitive about her?" + +"Yes." + +"You are? Very well--I like that. What about her?" + +"What a question!" + +"I mean--is she indifferent, cold, in love with some one else?" + +"Not that I am aware. She has refused to marry me and has left Rome, +that is all." + +"Refused to marry you!" cried old Saracinesca in boundless astonishment. +"My dear boy, you must be out of your mind! The thing is impossible. You +are the best match in Rome. Madame d'Aranjuez refuse you--absolutely +incredible, not to be believed for a moment. You are dreaming. A +widow--without much fortune--the relict of some curious adventurer--a +woman looking for a fortune, a woman--" + +"Stop!" cried Orsino, savagely. + +"Oh yes--I forgot. You are sensitive. Well, well, I meant nothing +against her, except that she must be insane if what you tell me is true. +But I am glad of it, my boy, very glad. She is no match for you, Orsino. +I confess, I wish you would marry at once. I would like to see my great +grandchildren--but not Madame d'Aranjuez. A widow, too." + +"My father married a widow." + +"When you find a widow like your mother, and ten years younger than +yourself, marry her if you can. But not Madame d'Aranjuez--older than +you by several years." + +"A few years." + +"Is that all? It is too much, though. And who is Madame d'Aranjuez? +Everybody was asking the question last winter. I suppose she had a name +before she married, and since you have been trying to make her your +wife, you must know all about her. Who was she?" + +Orsino hesitated. + +"You see!" cried, the old Prince. "It is not all right. There is a +secret--there is something wrong about her family, or about her entrance +into the world. She knows perfectly well that we would never receive her +and has concealed it all from you--" + +"She has not concealed it. She has told me the exact truth. But I shall +not repeat it to you." + +"All the stronger proof that everything is not right. You are well out +of it, my boy, exceedingly well out of it. I congratulate you." + +"I would rather not be congratulated." + +"As you please. I am sorry for you, if you are unhappy. Try and forget +all about it. How is your mother?" + +At any other time Orsino would have laughed at the characteristic +abruptness. + +"Perfectly well, I believe. I have not seen her all summer," he answered +gravely. + +"Not been to Saracinesca all summer! No wonder you look ill. Telegraph +to them that I have come back and let us get the family together as soon +as possible. Do you think I mean to spend six months alone in your +company, especially when you are away all day at that wretched office of +yours? Be quick about it--telegraph at once." + +"Very well. But please do not repeat anything of what I have told you to +my father or my mother. That is the only thing I have to ask." + +"Am I a parrot? I never talk to them of your affairs." + +"Thanks. I am grateful." + +"To heaven because your grandfather is not a parakeet! No doubt. You +have good cause. And look here, Orsino--" + +The old man took Orsino's arm and held it firmly, speaking in a lower +tone. + +"Do not make an ass of yourself, my boy--especially in business. But if +you do--and you probably will, you know--just come to me, without +speaking to any one else. I will see what can be done without noise. +There--take that, and forget all about your troubles and get a little +more colour into your face." + +"You are too good to me," said Orsino, grasping the old Prince's hand. +For once, he was really moved. + +"Nonsense--go and send that telegram at once. I do not want to be kept +waiting a week for a sight of my family." + +With a deep, good humoured laugh he pushed Orsino out of the door in +front of him and went off to his own quarters. + +In due time the family returned from Saracinesca and the gloomy old +palace waked to life again. Corona and her husband were both struck by +the change in Orsino's appearance, which indeed contrasted strongly with +their own, refreshed and strengthened as they were by the keen mountain +air, the endless out-of-door life, the manifold occupations of people +deeply interested in the welfare of those around them and supremely +conscious of their own power to produce good results in their own way. +When they all came back, Orsino himself felt how jaded and worn he was +as compared with them. + +Before twelve hours had gone by, he found himself alone with his mother. +Strange to say he had not looked forward to the interview with pleasure. +The bond of sympathy which had so closely united the two during the +spring seemed weakened, and Orsino would, if possible, have put off the +renewal of intimate converse which he knew to be inevitable. But that +could not be done. + +It would not be hard to find reasons for his wishing to avoid his +mother. Formerly his daily tale had been one of success, of hope, of +ever increasing confidence. Now he had nothing to tell of but danger and +anxiety for the future, and he was not without a suspicion that she +would strongly disapprove of his allowing himself to be kept afloat by +Del Ferice's personal influence, and perhaps by his personal aid. It was +hard to begin daily intercourse on a basis of things so different from +that which had seemed solid and safe when they had last talked together. +He had learned to bear his own troubles bravely, too, and there was +something which he associated with weakness in the idea of asking +sympathy for them now. He would rather have been left alone. + +Deep down, too, was the consciousness of all that had happened between +himself and Maria Consuelo since his mother's departure. Another +suffering, another and distinctly different misfortune, to be borne +better in silence than under question even of the most affectionate +kind. His grandfather had indeed guessed at both truths and had taxed +him with them at once, but that was quite another matter. He knew that +the old gentleman would never refer again to what he had learned, and he +appreciated the generous offer of help, of which he would never avail +himself, in a way in which he could not appreciate an assistance even +more lovingly proffered, perhaps, but which must be asked for by a +confession of his own failure. + +On the other hand, he was incapable of distorting the facts in any way +so as to make his mother believe him more successful than he actually +was. There was nothing dishonest, perhaps, in pretending to be hopeful +when he really had little hope, but he could not have represented the +condition of the business otherwise than as it really stood. + +The interview was a long one, and Corona's dark face grew grave if not +despondent as he explained to her one point after another, taking +especial care to elucidate all that bore upon his relations with Del +Ferice. It was most important that his mother should understand how he +was placed, and how Del Ferice's continued advances of money were not to +be regarded in the light of a personal favour, but as a speculation in +which Ugo would probably get the best of the bargain. Orsino knew how +sensitive his mother would be on such a point, and dreaded the moment +when she should begin to think that he was laying himself under +obligations beyond the strict limits of business. + +Corona leaned back in her low seat and covered her eyes with one hand +for a moment, in deep thought. Orsino waited anxiously for her to speak. + +"My dear," she said at last, "you make it very clear, and I understand +you perfectly. Nevertheless, it seems to me that your position is not +very dignified, considering who you are, and what Del Ferice is. Do you +not think so yourself?" + +Orsino flushed a little. She had not put the point as he had expected, +and her words told upon him. + +"When I entered business, I put my dignity in my pocket," he answered, +with a forced laugh. "There cannot be much of it in business, at the +best." + +His mother's black eyes seemed to grow blacker, and the delicate nostril +quivered a little. + +"If that is true, I wish you had never meddled in these affairs," she +said, proudly. "But you talked differently last spring, and you made me +see it all in another way. You made me feel, on the contrary that in +doing something for yourself, in showing that you were able to +accomplish something, in asserting your independence, you were making +yourself more worthy of respect--and I have respected you accordingly." + +"Exactly," answered Orsino, catching at the old argument. "That is just +what I wished to do. What I said a moment since was in the way of a +generality. Business means a struggle for money, I suppose, and that, in +itself, is not dignified. But it is not dishonourable. After all, the +means may justify the end." + +"I hate that saying!" exclaimed Corona hotly. "I wish you were free of +the whole affair." + +"So do I, with all my heart!" + +A short silence followed. + +"If I had known all this three months ago," Corona resumed, "I would +have taken the money and given it to you, to clear yourself. I thought +you were succeeding and I have used all the funds I could gather to buy +the Montevarchi's property between us and Affile and in planting +eucalyptus trees in that low land of mine where the people have suffered +so much from fever. I have nothing at my disposal unless I borrow. Why +did you not tell me the truth in the summer, Orsino? Why have you let me +imagine that you were prospering all along, when you have been and are +at the point of failure? It is too bad--" + +She broke off suddenly and clasped her hands together on her knee. + +"It is only lately that business has gone so badly," said Orsino. + +"It was all wrong from the beginning! I should never have encouraged +you. Your father was right, as he always is--and now you must tell him +so." + +But Orsino refused to go to his father, except in the last extremity. He +represented that it was better, and more dignified, since Corona +insisted upon the point of dignity, to fight the battle alone so long as +there was a chance of winning. His mother, on the other hand, maintained +that he should free himself at once and at any cost. A few months +earlier he could easily have persuaded her that he was right; but she +seemed changed since he had parted from her, and he fancied that his +father's influence had been at work with her. This he resented bitterly. +It must be remembered, too, that he had begun the interview with a +preconceived prejudice, expecting it to turn out badly, so that he was +the more ready to allow matters to take an unfavourable turn. + +The result was not a decided break in his relations with his mother, but +a state of things more irritating than any open difference could have +been. From that time Corona discouraged him, and never ceased to advise +him to go to his father and ask frankly for enough money to clear him +outright. Orsino, on his part, obstinately refused to apply to any one +for help, as long as Del Ferice continued to advance him money. + +In those months which followed there were few indeed who did not suffer +in the almost universal financial cataclysm. All that Contini and +others, older and wiser than he, had predicted, took place, and more +also. The banks refused discount, even upon the best paper, saying with +justice that they were obliged to hold their funds in reserve at such a +time. The works stopped almost everywhere. It was impossible to raise +money. Thousands upon thousands of workmen who had come from great +distances during the past two or three years were suddenly thrown out of +work, penniless in the streets and many of them burdened with wives and +children. There were one or two small riots and there was much +demonstration, but, on the whole, the poor masons behaved very well. The +government and the municipality did what they could--what governments +and municipalities can do when hampered at every turn by the most +complicated and ill-considered machinery of administration ever invented +in any country. The starving workmen were by slow degrees got out of the +city and sent back to starve out of sight in their native places. The +emigration was enormous in all directions. + +The dismal ruins of that new city which was to have been built and which +never reached completion are visible everywhere. Houses seven stories +high, abandoned within a month of completion rise uninhabited and +uninhabitable out of a rank growth of weeds, amidst heaps of rubbish, +staring down at the broad, desolate streets where the vigorous grass +pushes its way up through the loose stones of the unrolled metalling. +Amidst heavy low walls which were to have been the ground stories of +palaces, a few ragged children play in the sun, a lean donkey crops the +thistles, or if near to a few occupied dwellings, a wine seller makes a +booth of straw and chestnut boughs and dispenses a poisonous, sour drink +to those who will buy. But that is only in the warm months. The winter +winds blow the wretched booth to pieces and increase the desolation. +Further on, tall façades rise suddenly up, the blue sky gleaming +through their windows, the green moss already growing upon their naked +stones and bricks. The Barbarini of the future, if any should arise, +will not need to despoil the Colosseum to quarry material for their +palaces. If, as the old pasquinade had it the Barbarini did what the +Barbarians did not, how much worse than barbarians have these modern +civilizers done! + +The distress was very great in the early months of 1889. The +satisfaction which many of the new men would have felt at the ruin of +great old families was effectually neutralized by their own financial +destruction. Princes, bankers, contractors and master masons went down +together in the general bankruptcy. Ugo Del Ferice survived and with him +Andrea Contini and Company, and doubtless other small firms which he +protected for his own ends. San Giacinto, calm, far-seeing, and keen as +an eagle, surveyed the chaos from the height of his magnificent fortune, +unmoved and immovable, awaiting the lowest ebb of the tide. The +Saracinesca looked on, hampered a little by the sudden fall in rents and +other sources of their income, but still superior to events, though +secretly anxious about Orsino's affairs, and daily expecting that he +must fail. + +And Orsino himself had changed, as was natural enough. He was learning +to seem what he was not, and those who have learned that lesson know how +it influences the real man whom no one can judge but himself. So long as +there had been one person in his life with whom he could live in perfect +sympathy he had given himself little trouble about his outward +behaviour. So long as he had felt that, come what might, his mother was +on his side, he had not thought it worth his while not to be natural +with every one, according to his humour. He was wrong, no doubt, in +fancying that Corona had deserted him. But he had already suffered a +loss, in Maria Consuelo, which had at the time seemed the greatest +conceivable, and the pain he had suffered then, together with, the deep +though, unacknowledged wound to his vanity, had predisposed him to +believe that he was destined to be friendless. The consequence was that +a very slight break in the perfect understanding which had so long +existed between him and his mother had produced serious results. He now +felt that he was completely alone, and like most lonely men of sound +character he acquired the habit of keeping his troubles entirely to +himself, while affecting an almost unnaturally quiet and equable manner +with those around him. On the whole, he found that his life was easier +when he lived it on this principle. He found that he was more careful in +his actions since he had a part to sustain, and that his opinion carried +more weight since he expressed it more cautiously and seemed less liable +to fluctuations of mood and temper. The change in his character was more +apparent than real, perhaps, as changes of character generally are when +not in the way of logical development; but the constant thought of +appearances reacts upon the inner nature in the end, and much which at +first is only put on, becomes a habit next, and ends by taking the place +of an impulse. + +Orsino was aware that his chief preoccupation was identical with that +which absorbed his mother's thoughts. He wished to free himself from the +business in which he was so deeply involved, and which still prospered +so strangely in spite of the general ruin. But here the community of +ideas ended. He wished to free himself in his own way, without +humiliating himself by going to his father for help. Meanwhile, too, +Sant' Ilario himself had his doubts concerning his own judgment. It was +inconceivable to him that Del Ferice could be losing money to oblige +Orsino, and if he had desired to ruin him he could have done so with +ease a hundred times in the past months. It might be, he said to +himself, that Orsino had after all, a surprising genius for affairs and +had weathered the storm in the face of tremendous difficulties. Orsino +saw the belief growing in his father's mind, and the certainty that it +was there did not dispose him to throw up the fight and acknowledge +himself beaten. + +The Saracinesca were one of the very few Roman families in which there +is a tradition in favour of non-interference with the action of children +already of age. The consequence was that although the old Prince, +Giovanni and his wife, all three felt considerable anxiety, they did +nothing to hamper Orsino's action, beyond an occasionally repeated +warning to be careful. That his occupation was distasteful to them, they +did not conceal, but he met their expressions of opinion with perfect +equanimity and outward good humour, even when his mother, once his +staunch ally, openly advised him to give up business and travel for a +year. Their prejudice was certainly not unnatural, and had been +strengthened by the perusal of the unsavoury details published by the +papers at each new bankruptcy during the year. But they found Orsino now +always the same, always quiet, good-humoured and firm in his projects. + +Andrea Contini had not been very exact in his calculation of the date at +which the last door and the last window would be placed in the last of +the houses which he and Orsino had undertaken to build. The disturbance +in business might account for the delay. At all events it was late in +April of the following year before the work was completed. Then Orsino +went to Del Ferice. + +"Of course," he said, maintaining the appearance of calm which had now +become habitual with him, "I cannot expect to pay what I owe the bank, +unless I can effect a sale of these buildings. You have known that, all +along, as well as I. The question is, can they be sold?" + +"You have no applicant, then?" Del Ferice looked grave and somewhat +surprised. + +"No. We have received no offer." + +"You owe the bank a very large sum on these buildings, Don Orsino." + +"Secured by mortgages on them," answered the young man quietly, but +preparing for trouble. + +"Just so. Secured by mortgages. But if the bank should foreclose within +the next few months, and if the buildings do not realize the amount +secured, Contini and Company are liable for the difference." + +"I know that." + +"And the market is very bad, Don Orsino, and shows no signs of +improvement." + +"On the other hand the houses are finished, habitable, and can be let +immediately." + +"They are certainly finished. You must be aware that the bank has +continued to advance the sums necessary for two reasons. Firstly, +because an expensive but habitable dwelling is better than a cheap one +with no roof. Secondly, because in doing business with Andrea Contini +and Company we have been dealing with the only really honest and +economical firm in Rome." + +Orsino smiled vaguely, but said nothing. He had not much faith in Del +Ferice's flattery. + +"But that," continued the latter, "does not dispense us from the +necessity of realising what is owing to us--I mean the bank--either in +money, or in an equivalent--or in an equivalent," he repeated, +thoughtfully rolling a big silver pencil case backward and forward upon +the table under his fat white hand. + +"Evidently," assented Orsino. "Unfortunately, at the present time, there +seems to be no equivalent for ready money." + +"No--no--perhaps not," said Ugo, apparently becoming more and more +absorbed in his own thoughts. "And yet," he added, after a little pause, +"an arrangement may be possible. The houses certainly possess advantages +over much of this wretched property which is thrown upon the market. The +position is good and the work is good. Your work is very good, Don +Orsino. You know that better than I. Yes--the houses have advantages, I +admit. The bank has a great deal of waste masonry on its hands, Don +Orsino--more than I like to think of." + +"Unfortunately, again, the time for improving such property is gone by." + +"It is never too late to mend, says the proverb," retorted Del Ferice +with a smile. "I have a proposition to make. I will state it clearly. If +it is not to our mutual advantage, I think neither of us will lose so +much by it as we should lose in other ways. It is simply this. We will +cry quits. You have a small account current with the bank, and you must +sacrifice the credit balance--it is not much, I find--about thirty-five +thousand." + +"That was chiefly the profit on the first contract," observed Orsino. + +"Precisely. It will help to cover the bank's loss on this. It will help, +because when I say we will cry quits, I mean that you shall receive an +equivalent for your houses--a nominal equivalent of course, which the +bank nominally takes back as payment of the mortgages." + +"That is not very clear," said Orsino. "I do not understand you." + +"No," laughed Del Ferice. "I admit that it is not. It represented rather +my own view of the transaction than the practical side. But I will +explain myself beyond the possibility of mistake. The bank takes the +houses and your cash balance and cancels the mortgages. You are then +released from all debt and all obligation upon the old contract. But the +bank makes one condition which, is important. You must buy from the +bank, on mortgage of course, certain unfinished buildings which it now +owns, and you--Andrea Contini and Company--must take a contract to +complete them within a given time, the bank advancing you money as +before upon notes of hand, secured by subsequent and successive +mortgages." + +Orsino was silent. He saw that if he accepted, Del Ferice was receiving +the work of a whole year and more without allowing the smallest profit +to the workers, besides absorbing the profits of a previous successfully +executed contract, and besides taking it for granted that the existing +mortgages only just covered the value of the buildings. If, as was +probable, Del Ferice had means of either selling or letting the houses, +he stood to make an enormous profit. He saw, too, that if he accepted +now, he must in all likelihood be driven to accept similar conditions on +a future occasion, and that he would be binding Andrea Contini and +himself to work, and to work hard, for nothing and perhaps during years. + +But he saw also that the only alternative was an appeal to his father, +or bankruptcy which ultimately meant the same thing. Del Ferice spoke +again. + +"Whether you agree, or whether you prefer a foreclosure, we shall both +lose. But we should lose more by the latter course. In the interests of +the bank I trust that you will accept. You see how frankly I speak about +it. In the interests of the bank. But then, I need not remind you that +it would hardly be fair to let us lose heavily when you can make the +loss relatively a slight one--considering how the bank has behaved to +you, and to you alone, throughout this fatal year." + +"I will give you an answer to-morrow," said Orsino. + +He thought of poor Contini who would find that he had worked for nothing +during a whole year. But then, it would be easy for Orsino to give +Contini a sum of money out of his private resources. Anything was better +than giving up the struggle and applying to his father. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +Orsino was to all intents and purposes without a friend. How far +circumstances had contributed to this result and how far he himself was +to blame for his lonely state, those may judge who have followed his +history to this point. His grandfather had indeed offered him help and +in a way to make it acceptable if he had felt that he could accept it +at all. But the old Prince did not in the least understand the business +nor the situation. Moreover a young fellow of two or three and twenty +does not look for a friend in the person of a man sixty years older than +himself. While maintaining the most uniformly good relations in his +home, Orsino felt himself estranged from his father and mother. His +brothers were too young, and were generally away from home at school and +college, and he had no sisters. Beyond the walls of the Palazzo +Saracinesca, San Giacinto was the only man whom he would willingly have +consulted; but San Giacinto was of all men the one least inclined to +intimacy with his neighbours, and, after all, as Orsino reflected, he +would probably repeat the advice he had already given, if he vouchsafed +counsel of any kind. + +He thought of all his acquaintance and came to the conclusion that he +was in reality in terms more closely approaching to friendship with +Andrea Contini than with any man of his own class. Yet he would have +hesitated to call the architect his friend, as he would have found it +impossible to confide in him concerning any detail of his own private +life. + +At a time when most young men are making friends, Orsino had been +hindered, from the formation of such ties by the two great interests +which had absorbed his existence, his attachment and subsequent love for +Maria Consuelo, and the business at which he had worked so steadily. He +had lost Maria Consuelo, in whom he would have confided as he had often +done before, and at the present important juncture he stood quite alone. + +He felt that he was no match for Del Ferice. The keen banker was making +use of him for his own purposes in a way which neither Orsino nor +Contini had ever suspected. It could not be supposed that Ugo had +foreseen from the first the advantage he might reap from the firm he had +created and which was so wholly dependent on him. Orsino might have +turned out ignorant and incapable. Contini might have proved idle and +even dishonest. But, instead of this, the experiment had succeeded +admirably and Ugo found himself possessed of an instrument, as it were, +precisely adapted to his end, which was to make worthless property +valuable at the smallest possible expense, in fact, at the lowest cost +price. He had secured a first-rate architect and a first-rate +accountant, both men of spotless integrity, both young, energetic and +unusually industrious. He paid nothing for their services and he +entirely controlled their expenditure. It was clear that he would do his +utmost to maintain an arrangement so immensely profitable to himself. If +Orsino had realised exactly how profitable it was, he might have forced +Del Ferice to share the gain with him, and would have done so for the +sake of Contini, if not for his own. He suspected, indeed, that Ugo was +certain beforehand, in each case, of selling or letting the houses, but +he had no proof of the fact. Ugo did not leave everything to his +confidential clerk, and the secrets he kept to himself were well kept. + +Orsino consulted Contini, as a matter of necessity, before accepting Del +Ferice's last offer. The architect went into a tragic-comic rage, bit +his cigar through several times, ground his teeth, drank several glasses +of cold water, talked of the blood of Cola di Rienzo, vowed vengeance on +Del Ferice and finally submitted. + +The signing of the new contract determined the course of Orsino's life +for another year. It is surprising to see, in the existence of others, +how periods of monotonous calm succeed seasons of storm and danger. In +our own they do not astonish us so much, if at all. Orsino continued to +work hard, to live regularly and to do all those things which, under the +circumstances he ought to have done and earned the reputation of being a +model young man, a fact which surprised him on one or two occasions when +it came to his ears. Yet when he reflected upon it, he saw that he was +in reality not like other young men, and that his conduct was +undoubtedly abnormally good as viewed by those around him. His +grandfather began to look upon him as something almost unnatural, and +more than once hinted to Giovanni that the boy, as he still called him, +ought to behave like other boys. + +"He is more like San Giacinto than any of us," said Giovanni, +thoughtfully. "He has taken after that branch." + +"If that is the case, he might have done worse," answered the old man. +"I like San Giacinto. But you always judge superficially, Giovanni--you +always did. And the worst of it is, you are always perfectly well +satisfied with your own judgments." + +"Possibly. I have certainly not accepted those of others." + +"And the result is that you are turning into an oyster--and Orsino has +begun to turn into an oyster, too, and the other boys will follow his +example--a perfect oyster-bed! Go and take Orsino by the throat and +shake him--" + +"I regret to say that I am physically not equal to that feat," said +Giovanni with a laugh. + +"I should be!" exclaimed the aged Prince, doubling his hard hand and +bringing it down on the table, while his bright eyes gleamed. "Go and +shake him, and tell him to give up this dirty building business--make +him give it up, buy him out of it, put plenty of money into his pockets +and send him off to amuse himself! You and Corona have made a prig of +him, and business is making an oyster of him, and he will be a hopeless +idiot before you realise it! Stir him, shake him, make him move! I hate +your furniture-man--who is always in the right place and always ready to +be sat upon!" + +"If you can persuade him to give up affairs I have no objection." + +"Persuade him! I never knew a man worth speaking to who could be +persuaded to anything he did not like. Make him--that is the way." + +"But since he is behaving himself and is occupied--that is better than +the lives all these young fellows are leading." + +"Do not argue with me, Giovanni, I hate it. Besides, your reason is +worth nothing at all. Did I spend my youth over accounts, in the society +of an architect? Did I put water in my wine and sit up like a model +little boy at my papa's table and spend my evenings in carrying my +mamma's fan? Nonsense! And yet all that was expected in my day, in a way +it is not expected now. Look at yourself. You are bad enough--dull +enough, I mean. Did you waste the best years of your life in counting +bricks and measuring mortar?" + +"You say that you hate argument, and yet you are arguing. But Orsino +shall please himself, as I did, and in his own way. I will certainly not +interfere." + +"Because you know you can do nothing with him!" retorted old Saracinesca +contemptuously. + +Giovanni laughed. Twenty years earlier he would have lost his temper to +no purpose. But twenty years of unruffled existence had changed him. + +"You are not the man you were," grumbled his father. + +"No. I have been too happy, far too long, to be much like what I was at +thirty." + +"And do you mean to say I am not happy, and have not been happy, and do +not mean to be happy, and do not wish everybody to be happy, so long as +this old machine hangs together? What nonsense you talk, my boy. Go and +make love to your wife. That is all you are fit for!" + +Discussions of this kind were not unfrequent but of course led to +nothing. As a matter of fact Sant' Ilario was quite right in believing +interference useless. It would have been impossible. He was no more able +to change Orsino's determination than he was physically capable of +shaking him. Not that Sant' Ilario was weak, physically or morally, nor +ever had been. But his son had grown up to be stronger than he. + +Twelve months passed away. During that time the young man worked, as he +had worked before, regularly and untiringly. But his object now was to +free himself, and he no longer hoped to make a fortune or to do any +thing beyond the strict execution of the contract he had in hand, +determined if possible to avoid taking another. With a coolness and +self-denial beyond his years, he systematically hoarded the allowance he +received from his father, in order to put together a sum of money for +poor Contini. He made economies everywhere, refused to go into society +and spent his evenings in reading. His acquired manner stood him in good +stead, but he could not bear more than a limited amount of the daily +talk in the family. Being witty, rather than gay, if he could be said to +be either, he found himself inclined rather to be bitter than amusing +when he was wearied by the monotonous conversation of others. He knew +this to be a mistake and controlled himself, taking refuge in solitude +and books when he could control himself no longer. + +Whether he loved Maria Consuelo still, or not, it was clear that he was +not inclined to love any one else for the present. The tolerably +harmless dissipation and wildness of the two or three years he had spent +in England could not account for such a period of coldness as followed +his separation from Maria Consuelo. He had by no means exhausted the +pleasures of life and his capacity for enjoyment could not even be said +to have reached its height. But he avoided the society of women even +more consistently than he shunned the club and the card table. + +More than a year had gone by since he had heard from Maria Consuelo. He +met Spicca from time to time, looking now as though he had not a day to +live, but neither of them mentioned past events. The Romans had talked a +little of her sudden change of plans, for it had been known that she had +begun to furnish a large apartment for the winter of the previous year, +and had then very unaccountably changed her mind and left the place in +the hands of an agent to be sub-let. People said she had lost her +fortune. Then she had been forgotten in the general disaster that +followed, and no one had taken the trouble to remember her since then. +Even Gouache, who had once been so enthusiastic over her portrait, did +not seem to know or care what had become of her. Once only, and quite +accidentally, Orsino had authentic information of her whereabouts. He +took up an English society journal one evening and glanced idly over the +paragraphs. Maria Consuelo's name arrested his attention. A certain very +high and mighty old lady of royal lineage was about to travel in Egypt +during the winter. "Her Royal Highness," said the paper, "will be +accompanied by the Countess d'Aranjuez d'Aragona." Orsino's hand shook a +little as he laid the sheet aside, and he was pale when he rose a few +moments later and went off to his own room. He could not help wondering +why Maria Consuelo was styled by a title to which she certainly had a +legal right, but which she had never before used, and he wondered still +more why she travelled in Egypt with an old princess who was generally +said to be anything but an agreeable companion, and was reported to be +quite deaf. But on the whole he thought little of the information +itself. It was the sight of Maria Consuelo's name which had moved him, +and he was not altogether himself for several days. The impression wore +off before long, and he followed the round of his monotonous life as +before. + +Early in the month of March in the year 1890, he was seated alone in his +room one evening before dinner. The great contract he had undertaken was +almost finished, and he knew that within two months he would be placed +in the same difficult position from which he had formerly so signally +failed to extricate himself. That he and Contini had executed the terms +of the contract with scrupulous and conscientious nicety did not better +the position. That they had made the most strenuous efforts to find +purchasers for the property, as they had a right to do if they could, +and had failed, made the position hopeless or almost as bad as that. +Whether they liked it or not, Del Ferice had so arranged that the great +mass of their acceptances should fall due about the time when the work +would be finished. To mortgage on the same terms or anything approaching +the same terms with any other bank was out of the question, so that they +had no hope of holding the property for the purpose of leasing it. Even +if Orsino could have contemplated for a moment such an act of bad faith +as wilfully retarding the work in order to gain a renewal of the bills, +such a course could have led to no actual improvement in the situation. +The property was unsaleable and Del Ferice knew it, and had no intention +of selling it. He meant to keep it for himself and let it, as a +permanent source of income. It would not have cost him in the end one +half of its actual value, and was exceptionally good property. Orsino +saw how hopeless it was to attempt resistance, unless he would resign +himself to voting an appeal to his own people, and this, as of old, he +was resolved not to do. + +He was reflecting upon his life of bondage when a servant brought him a +letter. He tossed it aside without looking at it, but it chanced to slip +from the polished table and fall to the ground. As he picked it up his +attention was arrested by the handwriting and by the stamp. The stamp +was Egyptian and the writing was that of Maria Consuelo. He started, +tore open the envelope and took out a letter of many pages, written on +thin paper. At first he found it hard to follow the characters, and his +heart beat at a rate which annoyed him. He rose, walked the length of +the room and back again, sat down in another seat close to the lamp and +read the letter steadily from beginning to end. + + + "My Dear Friend--You may, perhaps, be surprised at hearing from me + after so long a time. I received your last letter. How long ago was + that? Twelve, fourteen, fifteen months? I do not know. It is as + well to forget, since I at least would rather not remember what you + wrote. And I write now--why? Simply because I have the impulse to + do so. That is the best of all reasons. I wish to hear from you, + which is selfish; and I wish to hear about you, which is not. Are + you still working at that business in which you were so much + interested? Or have you given it up and gone back to the life you + used to hate so thoroughly? I would like to know. Do you remember + how angry I was long ago, because you agreed to meet Del Ferice in + my drawing-room? I was very wrong, for the meeting led to many good + results. I like to think that you are not quite like all the young + men of your set, who do nothing--and cannot even do that + gracefully. I think you used those very words about yourself, once + upon a time. But you proved that you could live a very different + life if you chose. I hope you are living it still. + + "And so poor Donna Tullia is dead--has been dead a year and a half! + I wrote Del Ferice a long letter when I got the news. He answered + me. He is not as bad as you used to think, for he was terribly + pained by his loss--I could see that well enough in what he wrote + though there was nothing exaggerated or desperate in the phrases. + In fact there were no phrases at all. I wish I had kept the letter + to send to you, but I never keep letters. Poor Donna Tullia! I + cannot imagine Rome without her. It would certainly not be the same + place to me, for she was uniformly kind and thoughtful where I was + concerned, whatever she may have been to others. + + "Echoes reach me from time to time in different parts of the world, + as I travel, and Rome seems to be changed in many ways. They say + the ruin was dreadful when the crash came. I suppose you gave up + business then, as was natural, since they say there is no more + business to do. But I would be glad to know that nothing + disagreeable happened to you in the financial storm. I confess to + having felt an unaccountable anxiety about you of late. Perhaps + that is why I write and why I hope for an answer at once. I have + always looked upon presentiments and forewarnings and all such + intimations as utterly false and absurd, and I do not really + believe that anything has happened or is happening to distress you. + But it is our woman's privilege to be inconsistent, and we should + be still more inconsistent if we did not use it. Besides I have + felt the same vague disquietude about you more than once before and + have not written. Perhaps I should not write even now unless I had + a great deal more time at my disposal than I know what to do with. + Who knows? If you are busy, write a word on a post-card, just to + say that nothing is the matter. Here in Egypt we do not realise + what time means, and certainly not that it can ever mean money. + + "It is an idle life, less idle for me perhaps than for some of + those about me, but even for me not over-full of occupations. The + climate occupies all the time not actually spent in eating, + sleeping and visiting ruins. It is fair, I suppose, to tell you + something of myself since I ask for news of you. I will tell you + what I can. + + "I am travelling with an old lady, as her companion--not exactly + out of inclination and yet not exactly out of duty. Is that too + mysterious? Do you see me as Companion and general amuser to an old + lady--over seventy years of age? No. I presume not. And I am not + with her by necessity either, for I have not suffered any losses. + On the contrary, since I dismissed a certain person--an attendant, + we will call her--from my service, it seems to me that my income is + doubled. The attendant, by the bye, has opened a hotel on the Lake + of Como. Perhaps you, who are so good a man of business, may see + some connexion between these simple facts. I was never good at + managing money, nor at understanding what it meant. It seems that I + have not inherited all the family talents. + + "But I return to Egypt, to the Nile, to this dahabiyah, on board of + which it has pleased the fates to dispose my existence for the + present. I am not called a companion, but a lady in waiting, which + would be only another term for the same thing, if I were not really + very much attached to the Princess, old and deaf as she is. And + that is saying a great deal. No one knows what deafness means who + has not read aloud to a deaf person, which is what I do every day. + I do not think I ever told you about her. I have known her all my + life, ever since I was a little girl in the convent in Vienna. She + used to come and see me and bring me good things--and books of + prayers--I remember especially a box of candied fruits which she + told me came from Kiew. I have never eaten any like them since. I + wonder how many sincere affections between young and old people owe + their existence originally to a confectioner! + + "When I left Rome, I met her again in Nice. She was there with the + Prince, who was in wretched health and who died soon afterwards. He + never was so fond of me as she was. After his death, she asked me + to stay with her as long as I would. I do not think I shall leave + her again so long as she lives. She treats me like her own + child--or rather, her grandchild--and besides, the life suits me + very well. I am, really, perfectly independent, and yet I am + perfectly protected. I shall not repeat the experiment of living + alone for three years, until I am much older. + + "It is a rather strange friendship. My Princess knows all about + me--all that you know. I told her one day and she did not seem at + all surprised. I thought I owed her the truth about myself, since I + was to live with her, and since she had always been so kind to me. + She says I remind her of her daughter, the poor young Princess + Marie, who died nearly thirty years ago. In Nice, too, like her + father, poor girl. She was only just nineteen, and very beautiful + they say. I suppose the dear good old lady fancies she sees some + resemblance even now, though I am so much older than her daughter + was when she died. There is the origin of our friendship--the + trivial and the tragic--confectionery and death--a box of candied + fruits and an irreparable loss! If there were no contrasts what + would the world be? All one or the other, I suppose. All death, or + all Kiew sweetmeats. + + "I suppose you know what life in Egypt is like. If you have not + tried it yourself, your friends have and can describe it to you. I + will certainly not inflict my impressions upon your friendship. It + would be rather a severe test--perhaps yours would not bear it, and + then I should be sorry. + + "Do you know? I like to think that I have a friend in you. I like + to remember the time when you used to talk to me of all your + plans--the dear old time! I would rather remember that than much + which came afterwards. You have forgiven me for all I did, and are + glad, now, that I did it. Yes, I can fancy your smile. You do not + see yourself, Prince Saracinesca, Prince Sant' Ilario, Duke of + Whatever-it-may-be, Lord of ever so many What-are-their-names, + Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, Grandee of Spain of the First + Class, Knight of Malta and Hereditary Something to the Holy See--in + short the tremendous personage you will one day be--you do not + exactly see yourself as the son-in-law of the Signora Lucrezia + Ferris, proprietor of a tourist's hotel on the Lake of Como! + Confess that the idea was an absurdity! As for me, I will confess + that I did very wrong. Had I known all the truth on that + afternoon--do you remember the thunderstorm? I would have saved you + much, and I should have saved myself--well--something. But we have + better things to do than to run after shadows. Perhaps it is as + well not even to think of them. It is all over now. Whatever you + may think of it all, forgive your old friend, + + Maria Consuelo d'A." + +Orsino read the long letter to the end, and sat a while thinking over +the contents. Two points in it struck him especially. In the first place +it was not the letter of a woman who wished to call back a man she had +dismissed. There was no sentiment in it, or next to none. She professed +herself contented in her life, if not happy, and in one sentence she +brought before him the enormous absurdity of the marriage he had once +contemplated. He had more than once been ashamed of not making some +further direct effort to win her again. He was now suddenly conscious of +the great influence which her first letter, containing the statement of +her parentage, had really exercised over him. Strangely enough, what she +now wrote reconciled him, as it were, with himself. It had turned out +best, after all. + +That he loved her still, he felt sure, as he held in his hand the pages +she had written and felt the old thrill he knew so well in his fingers, +and the old, quick beating of the heart. But he acknowledged gladly--too +gladly, perhaps--that he had done well to let her go. + +Then came the second impression. "I like to remember the time when you +used to talk to me of all your plans." The words rang in his ears and +called up delicious visions of the past, soft hours spent by her side +while she listened with something warmer than patience to the outpouring +of his young hopes and aspirations. She, at least, had understood him, +and encouraged him, and strengthened him with her sympathy. And why not +now, if then? Why should she not understand him now, when he most needed +a friend, and give him sympathy now, when he stood most in need of it? +She was in Egypt and he in Rome, it was true. But what of that? If she +could write to him, he could write to her, and she could answer him +again. No one had ever felt with him as she had. + +He did not hesitate long. On that same evening, after dinner, he went +back to his own room and wrote to her. It was a little hard at first, +but, as the ink flowed, he expressed himself better and more clearly. +With an odd sort of caution, which had grown upon him of late, he tried +to make his letter take a form as similar to hers as possible. + + + "MY DEAR FRIEND" (he wrote)--"If people always yielded to their + impulses as you have done in writing to me, there would be more + good fellowship and less loneliness in the world. It would not be + easy for me to tell you how great a pleasure you have given me. + Perhaps, hereafter, I may compare it to your own memory of the Kiew + candied fruits! For the present I do not find a worthy comparison + to my hand. + + "You ask many questions. I propose to answer them all. Will you + have the patience to read what I write? I hope so, for the sake of + the time when I used to talk to you of all my plans--and which you + say you like to remember. For another reason, too. I have never + felt so lonely in my life as I feel now, nor so much in need of a + friend--not a helping friend, but one to whom I can speak a little + freely. I am very much alone. A sort of estrangement has grown up + between my mother and me, and she no longer takes my side in all I + want to do, as she did once. + + "I will be quite plain. I will tell you all my troubles, because + there is not another person in the world to whom I could tell + them--and because I know that they will not trouble you. You will + feel a little friendly sympathy, and that will be enough. But you + will feel no pain. After all, I daresay that I exaggerate, and that + there is nothing so very painful in the matter, as it will strike + you. But the case is serious, as you will see. It involves my life, + perhaps for many years to come. + + "I am completely in Del Ferice's power. A year ago I had the + possibility of freeing myself. What do you think that chance was? I + could have gone to my grandfather and asked him to lay down a sum + of money sufficient to liberate me, or I could have refused Del + Ferice's new offer and allowed myself to be declared bankrupt. My + abominable vanity stood in the way of my following either of those + plans. In less than two months I shall be placed in the same + position again. But the circumstances are changed. The sum of money + is so considerable that I would not like to ask all my family, with + their three fortunes, to contribute it. The business is enormous. I + have an establishment like a bank and Contini--you remember + Contini?--has several assistant architects. Moreover we stand + alone. There is no other firm of the kind left, and our failure + would be a very disagreeable affair. But so long as I remain Del + Ferice's slave, we shall not fail. Do you know that this great and + successful firm is carried on systematically without a centime of + profit to the partners, and with the constant threat of a + disgraceful failure, used to force me on? Do you think that if I + chose the alternative, any one would believe, or that my tyrant + would let any one believe, that Orsino Saracinesca had served Ugo + Del Ferice for years--two years and a half before long--as a sort + of bondsman? I am in a very unenviable position. I am sure that Del + Ferice made use of me at first for his own ends--that is, to make + money for him. The magnitude of the sums which pass through my + hands makes me sure that he is now backed by a powerful syndicate, + probably of foreign bankers who lost money in the Roman crash, and + who see a chance of getting it back through Del Ferice's + management. It is a question of millions. You do not understand? + Will you try to read my explanation?" + +And here Orsino summed up his position towards Del Ferice in a clear and +succinct statement, which it is not necessary to reproduce here. It +needed no talent for business on Maria Consuelo's part to understand +that he was bound hand and foot. + + + "One of three things must happen" (Orsino continued). "I must + cripple, if not ruin, the fortune of my family, or I must go + through a scandalous bankruptcy, or I must continue to be Ugo Del + Ferice's servant during the best years of my life. My only + consolation is that I am unpaid. I do not speak of poor Contini. He + is making a reputation, it is true, and Del Ferice gives him + something which I increase as much as I can. Considering our + positions, he is the more completely sacrificed of the two, poor + fellow--and through my fault. If I had only had the courage to put + my vanity out of the way eighteen months ago, I might have saved + him as well as myself. I believed myself a match for Del + Ferice--and I neither was nor ever shall be. I am a little + desperate. + + "That is my life, my dear friend. Since you have not quite + forgotten me, write me a word of that good old sympathy on which I + lived so long. It may soon be all I have to live on. If Del Ferice + should have the bad taste to follow Donna Tullia to Saint + Lawrence's, nothing could save me. I should no longer have the + alternative of remaining his slave in exchange for safety from + bankruptcy to myself and ruin--or something like it--to my father. + + "But let us talk no more about it all. But for your kindly letter, + no one would ever have known all this, except Contini. In your calm + Egyptian life--thank God, dear, that your life is calm!--my story + must sound like a fragment from an unpleasant dream. One thing you + do not tell me. Are you happy, as well as peaceful? I would like to + know. I am not. + + "Pray write again, when you have time--and inclination. If there is + anything to be done for you in Rome--any little thing, or great + thing either--command your old friend, + + "ORSINO SARACINESCA." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +Orsino posted his letter with an odd sensation of relief. He felt that +he was once more in communication with humanity, since he had been able +to speak out and tell some one of the troubles that oppressed him. He +had assuredly no reason for being more hopeful than before, and matters +were in reality growing more serious every day; but his heart was +lighter and he took a more cheerful view of the future, almost against +his own better judgment. + +He had not expected to receive an answer from Maria Consuelo for some +time and was surprised when one came in less than ten days from the date +of his writing. This letter was short, hurriedly written and carelessly +worded, but there was a ring of anxiety for him in every line of it +which he could not misinterpret. Not only did she express the deepest +sympathy for him and assure him that all he did still had the liveliest +interest for her, but she also insisted upon being informed of the state +of his affairs as often as possible. He had spoken of three +possibilities, she said. Was there not a fourth somewhere? There might +often be an issue from the most desperate situation, of which no one +dreamed. Could she not help him to discover where it lay in this case? +Could they not write to each other and find it out together? + +Orsino looked uneasily at the lines, and the blood rose to his temples. +Did she mean what she said, or more, or less? He was overwrought and +over-sensitive, and she had written thoughtlessly, as though not +weighing her words, but only following an impulse for which she had no +time to find the proper expression. She could not imagine that he would +accept substantial help from her--still less that he would consent to +marry her for the sake of the fortune which might save him. He grew very +angry, then turned cold again, and then, reading the words again, saw +that he had no right to attach any such meaning to them. Then it struck +him that even if, by any possibility, she had meant to convey such an +idea, he would have no right at all to resent it. Women, he reflected, +did not look upon such matters as men did. She had refused to marry him +when he was prosperous. If she meant that she would marry him now, to +save him from ruin, he could not but acknowledge that she was carrying +devotion near to its farthest limit. But the words themselves would not +bear such an interpretation. He was straining language too far in +suggesting it. + +"And yet she means something," he said to himself. "Something which I +cannot understand." + +He wrote again, maintaining the tone of his first letter more carefully +than she had done on her part, though not sparing the warmest +expressions of heartfelt thanks for the sympathy she had so readily +given. But there was no fourth way, he said. One of those three things +which he had explained to her must happen. There was no hope, and he was +resigned to continue his existence of slavery until Del Ferice's death +brought about the great crisis of his life. Not that Del Ferice was in +any danger of dying, he added, in spite of the general gossip about his +bad health. Such men often outlasted stronger people, as Ugo had +outlived Donna Tullia. Not that his death would improve matters, either, +as they stood at present. That he had explained before. If the count +died now, there were ninety-nine chances out of a hundred that Orsino +would be ruined. For the present, nothing would happen. In little more +than a month--in six weeks at the utmost--a new arrangement would be +forced upon him, binding him perhaps for years to come. Del Ferice had +already spoken to him of a great public undertaking, at least half of +the contract for which could easily be secured or controlled by his +bank. He had added that this might be a favourable occasion for Andrea +Contini and Company to act in concert with the bank. Orsino knew what +that meant. Indeed, there was no possibility of mistaking the meaning, +which was clear enough. The fourth plan could only lie in finding +beforehand a purchaser for buildings which could not be so disposed of, +because they were built for a particular purpose, and could only be +bought by those who had ordered them, namely persons whom Del Ferice so +controlled that he could postpone their appearance if he chose and drive +Orsino into a failure at any moment after the completion of the work. +For instance, one of those buildings was evidently intended for a +factory, and probably for a match factory. Del Ferice, in requiring that +Contini and Company should erect what he had already arranged to dispose +of, had vaguely remarked that there were no match factories in Rome and +that perhaps some one would like to buy one. If Orsino had been less +desperate he would willingly have risked much to resent the suave +insolence. As it was, he had laughed in his tyrant's face, and bitterly +enough; a form of insult, however, to which Ugo was supremely +indifferent. These and many other details Orsino wrote to Maria +Consuelo, pouring out his confidence with the assurance of a man who +asks nothing but sympathy and is sure of receiving that in overflowing +measure. He no longer waited for her answers, as the crucial moment +approached, but wrote freely from day to day, as he felt inclined. +There was little which he did not tell her in the dozen or fifteen +letters he penned in the course of the month. Like many reticent men who +have never taken up a pen except for ordinary correspondence or for the +routine work of a business requiring accuracy, and who all at once begin +to write the history of their daily lives for the perusal of one trusted +person, Orsino felt as though he had found a new means of expression and +abandoned himself willingly to the comparative pleasure of complete +confidence. Like all such men, too, he unconsciously exhibited the chief +fault of his character in his long, diary-like letters. That fault was +his vanity. Had he been describing a great success he could and would +have concealed it better; in writing of his own successive errors and +disappointments he showed by the excessive blame he cast upon himself, +how deeply that vanity of his was wounded. It is possible that Maria +Consuelo discovered this. But she made no profession of analysis, and +while appearing outwardly far colder than Orsino, she seemed much more +disposed than he to yield to unexpected impulses when she felt their +influence. And Orsino was quite unconscious that he might be exhibiting +the defects of his moral nature to eyes keener than his own. + +He wrote constantly therefore, with the utmost freedom, and in the +moments while he was writing he enjoyed a faint illusion of increased +safety, as though he were retarding the events of the future by +describing minutely those of the past. More than once again Maria +Consuelo answered him, and always in the same strain, doing her best, +apparently, to give him hope and to reconcile him with himself. However +much he might condemn his own lack of foresight, she said, no man who +did his best according to his best judgment, and who acted honourably, +was to be blamed for the result, though it might involve the ruin of +thousands. That was her chief argument and it comforted him, and seemed +to relieve him from a small part of the responsibility which weighed so +heavily upon his shoulders, a burden now grown so heavy that the least +lightening of it made him feel comparatively free until called upon to +face facts again and fight with realities. + +But events would not be retarded, and Orsino's own good qualities tended +to hasten them, as they had to a great extent been the cause of his +embarrassment ever since the success of his first attempt, in making him +valuable as a slave to be kept from escaping at all risks. The system +upon which the business was conducted was admirable. It had been good +from the beginning and Orsino had improved it to a degree very uncommon +in Rome. He had mastered the science of book-keeping in a short time, +and had forced himself to an accuracy of detail and a promptness of +ready reference which would have surprised many an old professional +clerk. It must be remembered that from the first he had found little +else to do. The technical work had always been in Contini's hands, and +Del Ferice's forethought had relieved them both from the necessity of +entering upon financial negotiations requiring time, diplomatic tact and +skill of a higher order. The consequence was that Orsino had devoted the +whole of his great energy and native talent for order to the keeping of +the books, with the result that when a contract had been executed there +was hardly any accountant's work to be done. Nominally, too, Andrea +Contini and Company were not responsible to any one for their +book-keeping; but in practice, and under pretence of rendering valuable +service, Del Ferice sent an auditor from time to time to look into the +state of affairs, a proceeding which Contini bitterly resented while +Orsino expressed himself perfectly indifferent to the interference, on +the ground that there was nothing to conceal. Had the books been badly +kept, the final winding up of each contract would have been retarded for +one or more weeks. But the more deeply Orsino became involved, the more +keenly he felt the value and, at last, the vital importance, of the +most minute accuracy. If worse came to worst and he should be obliged +to fail, through Del Ferice's sudden death or from any other cause, his +reputation as an honourable man might depend upon this very accuracy of +detail, by which he would be able to prove that in the midst of great +undertakings, and while very large sums of money were passing daily +through his hands, he had never received even the very smallest share of +the profits absorbed by the bank. He even kept a private account of his +own expenditure on the allowance he received from his father, in order +that, if called upon, he might be able to prove how large a part of that +allowance he regularly paid to poor Contini as compensation for the +unhappy position in which the latter found himself. If bankruptcy +awaited him, his failure would, if the facts were properly made known, +reckon as one of the most honourable on record, though he was pleased to +look upon such a contingency as a certain source of scandal and more +than possible disgrace. + +Unconsciously his own determined industry in book-keeping gave him a +little more confidence. In his great anxiety he was spared the terrible +uncertainty felt by a man who does not precisely know his own financial +position at a given critical moment. His studiously acquired outward +calm also stood him in good stead. Even San Giacinto who knew the +financial world as few men knew it watched his youthful cousin with +curiosity and not without a certain sympathy and a very little +admiration. The young man's face was growing stern and thoughtful like +his own, lean, grave and strong. San Giacinto remembered that night a +year and a half earlier when he had warned Orsino of the coming danger, +and he was almost displeased with himself now for having taken a step +which seemed to have been unnecessary. It was San Giacinto's principle +never to do anything unnecessary, because a useless action meant a loss +of time and therefore a loss of advantage over the adversary of the +moment. San Giacinto, in different circumstances, would have made a +good general--possibly a great one; his strange life had made him a +financier of a type singular and wholly different from that of the men +with whom he had to deal. He never sought to gain an advantage by a +deception, but he won everything by superior foresight, imperturbable +coolness, matchless rapidity of action and undaunted courage under all +circumstances. It needs higher qualities to be a good man, but no others +are needed to make a successful one. Orsino possessed something of the +same rapidity and much of a similar coolness and courage, but he lacked +the foresight. It was vanity, of the most pardonable kind, indeed, but +vanity nevertheless which had led him to embark upon his dangerous +enterprise--not in the determination to accomplish for the sake of +accomplishing, still less in the direct desire for wealth as an ultimate +object, but in the almost boyish longing to show to his own people that +there was more in him than they suspected. The gift of foresight is +generally weakened by the presence of vanity, but when vanity takes its +place the result is as likely to be failure as not, and depends almost +directly upon chance alone. + +The crisis in Orsino's life was at hand, and what has here been finally +said of his position at that time seemed necessary, as summing up the +consequences to him of more than two years' unremitting labour, during +which he had become involved in affairs of enormous consequence at an +age when most young men are spending their time, more profitably perhaps +and certainly more agreeably, in such pleasures and pursuits as mother +society provides for her half-fledged nestlings. + +On the day before his final interview with Del Ferice Orsino wrote a +lengthy letter to Maria Consuelo. As she did not receive it until long +afterwards it is quite unnecessary to give any account of its contents. +Some time had passed since he had heard from her and he was not sure +whether or not she were still in Egypt. But he wrote to her, +nevertheless, drawing much fictitious comfort and little real advantage +from the last clear statement of his difficulties. By this time, writing +to her had become a habit and he resorted to it naturally when over +wearied by work and anxiety. + +On this same day also he had spent several hours in talking over the +situation with Contini. The architect, strange to say, was more +reconciled with his position than he had formerly been. He, at least, +received a certain substantial remuneration. He, at least, loved his +profession and rejoiced in the handling of great masses of brick and +stone. He, too, was rapidly making a reputation and a name for himself, +and, if business improved, was not prevented from entering into other +enterprises besides the one in which he found himself so deeply +interested. As a member of the firm, he could not free himself. As an +architect, he could have an architect's office of his own and build for +any one who chose to employ him. For his own part, he said, he might +perhaps be more profitably employed upon less important work; but then, +he might not, for business was very bad. The great works in which Del +Ferice kept him engaged had the incalculable advantage of bringing him +constantly before the public as an architect and of keeping his name, +which was the name of the firm, continually in the notice of all men of +business. He was deeply indebted to Orsino for the generous help given +when the realities of profit were so greatly at variance with the +appearances of prosperity. He would always regard repayment of the money +so advanced to him as a debt of honour and he hoped to live long enough +to extinguish it. He sympathised with Orsino in his desire to be freer +and more independent, but reminded him that when the day of liberation +came, he would not regret the comparatively short apprenticeship during +which he had acquired so great a mastery of business. Business, he said, +had been Orsino's ambition from the beginning, and business he had, in +plenty, if not with profit. For his own part, he was satisfied. + +Orsino felt that his partner could not be blamed, and he felt, too, that +he would be doing Contini a great injury in involving him in a failure. +But he regretted the time when their interests had coincided and they +had cursed Del Ferice in common and with a good will. There was nothing +to be done but to submit. He knew well enough what awaited him. + +On the following morning, by appointment, he went with a heavy heart to +meet Del Ferice at the bank. The latter had always preferred to see +Orsino without Contini when a new contract was to be discussed. As a +personal acquaintance he treated with Orsino on a footing of social +equality, and the balance of outwardly agreeable relations would have +been disturbed by the presence of a social inferior. Moreover, Del +Ferice knew the Saracinesca people tolerably well, and though not so +timid as many people supposed, he somewhat dreaded a sudden outbreak of +the hereditary temper; if such a manifestation really took place, it +would be more agreeable that there should be no witnesses of it. + +Orsino was surprised to find that Ugo was out of town. Having made an +appointment, he ought at least to have sent word to the Palazzo +Saracinesca of his departure. He had indeed left a message for Orsino, +which was correctly delivered, to the effect that he would return in +twenty-four hours, and requesting him to postpone the interview until +the following afternoon. In Orsino's humour this was not altogether +pleasant. The young man felt little suspense indeed, for he knew how +matters must turn out, and that he should be saddled with another +contract. But he found it hard to wait with equanimity, now that he had +made up his mind to the worst, and he resented Del Ferice's rudeness in +not giving a civil warning of his intended journey. + +The day passed somehow, at last, and towards evening Orsino received a +telegram from Ugo, full of excuses, but begging to put off the meeting +two days longer. The dispatch was from Naples whither Del Ferice often +went on business. + +It was almost unbearable and yet it must be borne. Orsino spent his time +in roaming about the less frequented parts of the city, trying to make +new plans for the future which was already planned for him, doing his +best to follow out a distinct line of thought, if only to distract his +own attention. He could not even write to Maria Consuelo, for he felt +that he had said all there was to be said, in his last long letter. + +On the morning of the fourth day he went to the bank again. Del Ferice +was there and greeted him warmly, interweaving his phrases with excuses +for his absence. + +"You will forgive me, I am sure," he said, "though I have put you to +very great inconvenience. The case was urgent and I could not leave it +in the hands of others. Of course you could have settled the business +with another of the directors, but I think--indeed, I know--that you +prefer only to see me in these matters. We have worked together so long +now, that we understand each other with half a word. Really, I am very +sorry to have kept you waiting so long!" + +"It is of no importance," answered Orsino coolly. "Pray do not speak of +it." + +"Of importance--no--perhaps not. That is, as you could not lose by it, +it was not of financial importance. But when I have made an engagement, +I like to keep it. In business, so much depends upon keeping small +engagements--and they may mean quite as much in the relations of +society. However, as you are so kind, we will not speak of it again. I +have made my excuses and you have accepted them. Let that end the +matter. To business, now, Don Orsino--to business!" + +Orsino fancied that Del Ferice's manner was not quite natural. He was +generally more quiet. His rather watery blue eyes did not usually look +so wide awake, his fat white hands were not commonly so active in their +gestures. Altogether he seemed more nervous, and at the same time better +pleased with himself and with life than usual. Orsino wondered what had +happened. He had perhaps made some very successful stroke in his +affairs during the three days he had spent in Naples. + +"So let us now have a look into your contracts, Don Orsino," he said. +"Or rather, look into the state of the account yourself if you wish to +do so, for I have already examined it." + +"I am familiar enough with the details," answered the young man. "I do +not need to look over everything. The books have been audited as you +see. The only thing left to be done is to hand over the work to you, +since it is executed according to the contract. You doubtless remember +that verbal part of the agreement. You receive the buildings as they now +stand and our credit cash if there is any, in full discharge of all the +obligations of Andrea Contini and Company to the bank--acceptances +coming due, balance of account if in debit, and mortgages on land and +houses--and we are quits again, my firm being discharged of all +obligation." + +Del Ferice's expression changed a little and became more grave. + +"Doubtless," he answered, "there was a tacit understanding to that +effect. Yes--yes--I remember. Indeed it was not altogether tacit. A word +was said about it, and a word is as good as a contract. Very well, Don +Orsino--very well. Since you desire it, we will cry quits again. This +kind of business is not very profitable to the bank--not very--but it is +not actual loss." + +"It is not profitable to us," observed Orsino. "If you do not wish any +more of it, we do not." + +"Really?" + +Del Ferice looked at him rather curiously as though wishing that he +would say more. Orsino met his glance steadily, expecting to be informed +of the nature of the next contract to be forced upon him. + +"So you really prefer to discontinue these operations--if I may call +them so," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. "It is strange that you should, +I confess. I remember that you much desired to take a part in affairs, +to be an actor in the interesting doings of the day, to be a financial +personage, in short. You have had your wish, Don Orsino. Your firm plays +an important part in Rome. Do you remember our first interview on the +steps of Monte Citorio? You asked me whether I could and would help you +to enter business. I promised that I would, and I have kept my word. The +sums mentioned in those papers, here, show that I have done all I +promised. You told me that you had fifteen thousand francs at your +disposal. From that small beginning I have shown you how to deal with +millions. But you do not seem to care for business, after all, Don +Orsino. You really do not seem to care for it, though I must confess +that you have a remarkable talent. It is very strange." + +"Is it?" asked Orsino with a shade of contempt. "You may remember that +my business has not been profitable, in spite of what you call my +talent, and in spite of what I know to have been hard work." + +Del Ferice smiled softly. + +"That is quite another matter," he answered. "If you had asked me +whether you could make a fortune at this time, I would have told you +that it was quite impossible without enormous capital. Quite impossible. +Understand that, if you please. But, negatively, you have profited, +because others have failed--hundreds of firms and contractors--while you +have lost but the paltry fifteen thousand or so with which you began. +And you have acquired great knowledge and experience. Therefore, on the +whole, you have been the gainer. In balancing an account one takes but +the sordid debit and credit and compares them--but in estimating the +value of a firm one should consider its reputation and the goodwill it +has created. The name of Andrea Contini and Company is a power in Rome. +That is the result of your work, and it is not a loss." + +Orsino said nothing, but leaned back in his chair, gloomily staring at +the wall. He wondered when Del Ferice would come to the point, and begin +to talk about the new contract. + +"You do not seem to agree with me," observed Ugo in an injured tone. + +"Not altogether, I confess," replied the young man with a contemptuous +laugh. + +"Well, well--it is no matter--it is of no importance--of no consequence +whatever," said Del Fence, who seemed inclined to repeat himself and to +lengthen, his phrases as though he wished to gain time. "Only this, Don +Orsino. I would remind you that you have just executed a piece of work +successfully, which no other firm in Rome could have carried out without +failure, under the present depression. It seems to me that you have +every reason to congratulate yourself. Of course, it was impossible for +me to understand that you really cared for a large profit--for actual +money--" + +"And I do not," interrupted Orsino with more warmth than he had hitherto +shown. + +"But, in that case, you ought to be more than satisfied," objected Ugo +suavely. + +Orsino grew impatient at last and spoke out frankly. + +"I cannot be satisfied with a position of absolute dependence, from +which I cannot escape except by bankruptcy. You know that I am +completely in your power. You know very well that while you are talking +to me now you contemplate making your usual condition before crying +quits, as you express it. You intend to impose another and probably a +larger piece of work on me, which I shall be obliged to undertake on the +same terms as before, because if I do not accept it, it is in your power +to ruin me at once. And this state of things may go on for years. That +is the enviable position of Andrea Contini and Company." + +Del Ferice assumed an air of injured dignity. + +"If you think anything of this kind you greatly misjudge me," he said. + +"I do not see why I should judge otherwise," retorted Orsino. "That is +exactly what took place on the last occasion, and what will take place +now--" + +"I think not," said Del Ferice very quietly, and watching him. + +Orsino was somewhat startled by the words, but his face betrayed +nothing. It was clear to him that Ugo had something new to propose, and +it was not easy to guess the nature of the coming proposition. + +"Will you kindly explain yourself?" he asked. + +"My dear Don Orsino, there is nothing to explain," replied Del Ferice +again becoming very bland. + +"I do not understand." + +"No? It is very simple. You have finished the buildings. The bank will +take them over and consider the account closed. You stated the position +yourself in the most precise terms. I do not see why you should suppose +that the bank wishes to impose anything upon you which you are not +inclined to accept. I really do not see why you should think anything of +the kind." + +In the dead silence which followed Orsino could hear his own heart +beating loudly. He wondered whether he had heard aright. He wondered +whether this were not some new manoeuvre on Del Ferice's part by which +he must ultimately fall still more completely under the banker's +domination. Ugo doubtless meant to qualify what he had just said by +adding a clause. Orsino waited for what was to follow. + +"Am I to understand that this does not suit your wishes?" inquired Ugo, +presently. + +"On the contrary, it would suit me perfectly," answered Orsino +controlling his voice with some difficulty. + +"In that case, there is nothing more to be said," observed Del Ferice. +"The bank will give you a formal release--indeed, I think the notary is +at this moment here. I am very glad to be able to meet your views, Don +Orsino. Very glad, I am sure. It is always pleasant to find that +amicable relations have been preserved after a long and somewhat +complicated business connexion. The bank owes it to you, I am sure--" + +"I am quite willing to owe that to the bank," answered Orsino with a +ready smile. He was almost beside himself with joy. + +"You are very good, I assure you," said Del Ferice, with much +politeness. He touched a bell and his confidential clerk appeared. + +"Cancel these drafts," he said, giving the man a small bundle of bills. +"Direct the notary to prepare a deed of sale, transferring all this +property, as was done before--" he hesitated. "I will see him myself in +ten minutes," he added. "It will be simpler. The account of Andrea +Contini is balanced and closed. Make out a preliminary receipt for all +dues whatsoever and bring it to me." + +The clerk stared for one moment as though he believed that Del Ferice +were mad. Then he went out. + +"I am sorry to lose you, Don Orsino," said Del Ferice, thoughtfully +rolling his big silver pencil case on the table. "All the legal papers +will be ready to-morrow afternoon." + +"Pray express to the directors my best thanks for so speedily winding up +the business," answered Orsino. "I think that, after all, I have no +great talent for affairs." + +"On the contrary, on the contrary," protested Ugo. "I have a great deal +to say against that statement." And he eulogised Orsino's gifts almost +without pausing for breath until the clerk returned with the preliminary +receipt. Del Ferice signed it and handed it to Orsino with a smile. + +"This was unnecessary," said the young man. "I could have waited until +to-morrow." + +"A matter of conscience, dear Don Orsino--nothing more." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +Orsino was free at last. The whole matter was incomprehensible to him, +and almost mysterious, so that after he had at last received his legal +release he spent his time in trying to discover the motives of Del +Ferice's conduct. The simplest explanation seemed to be that Ugo had not +derived as much profit from the last contract as he had hoped for, +though it had been enough to justify him in keeping his informal +engagement with Contini and Company, and that he feared a new and +unfavourable change in business which made any further speculations of +the kind dangerous. For some time Orsino believed this to have been the +case, but events proved that he was mistaken. He dissolved his +partnership with Contini, but Andrea Contini and Company still continued +to exist. The new partner was no less a personage than Del Ferice +himself, who was constantly represented in the firm by the confidential +clerk who has been more than once mentioned in this history, and who was +a friend of Contini's. What terms Contini made for himself, Orsino never +knew, but it is certain that the architect prospered from that time and +is still prosperous. + +Late in the spring of that year 1890 Roman society was considerably +surprised by the news of a most unexpected marriage. The engagement had +been carefully kept a secret, the banns had been published in Palermo, +the civil and religious ceremonies had taken place there, and the happy +couple had already reached Paris before either of them thought of +informing their friends and before any notice of the event appeared in +the papers. Even then, society felt itself aggrieved by the laconic form +in which the information was communicated. + +The statement, indeed, left nothing to be desired on the score of +plainness or conciseness of style. Count Del Ferice had married Maria +Consuelo d'Aranjuez d'Aragona. + +Two persons only received the intelligence a few days before it was +generally made known. One was Orsino and the other was Spicca. The +letters were characteristic and may be worth reproducing. + + + "MY FATHER" (Maria Consuelo wrote)--"I am married to Count Del + Ferice, with whom I think that you are acquainted. There is no + reason why I should enter into any explanation of my reasons for + taking this step. There are plenty which everybody can see. My + husband's present position and great wealth make him what the world + calls a good match, and my fortune places me above the suspicion of + having married him for his money. If his birth was not originally + of the highest, it was at least as good as mine, and society will + say that the marriage was appropriate in all its circumstances. You + are aware that I could not be married without informing my husband + and the municipal authorities of my parentage, by presenting copies + of the registers in Nice. Count Del Ferice was good enough to + overlook some little peculiarity in the relation between the dates + of my birth and your marriage. We will therefore say no more about + the matter. The object of this letter is to let you know that those + facts have been communicated to several persons, as a matter of + necessity. I do not expect you to congratulate me. I congratulate + myself, however, with all my heart. Within two years I have freed + myself from my worthy mother, I have placed myself beyond your + power to injure me, and I have escaped ruining a man I loved by + marrying him. I have laid the foundations of peace if not of + happiness. + + "The Princess is very ill but hopes to reach Normandy before the + summer begins. My husband will be obliged to be often in Rome but + will come to me from time to time, as I cannot leave the Princess + at present. She is trying, however, to select among her + acquaintance another lady in waiting--the more willingly as she is + not pleased with my marriage. Is that a satisfaction to you? I + expect to spend the winter in Rome. + + "MARIA CONSUELO DEL FERICE." + +This was the letter by which Maria Consuelo announced her marriage to +the father whom she so sincerely hated. For cruelty of language and +expression it was not to be compared with the one she had written to +him after parting with Orsino. But had she known how the news she now +conveyed would affect the old man who was to learn it, her heart might +have softened a little towards him, even after all she had suffered. +Very different were the lines Orsino received from her at the same time. + + + "My dear Friend--When you read this letter, which I write on the + eve of my marriage, but shall not send till some days have passed, + you must think of me as the wife of Ugo Del Ferice. To-night, I am + still Maria Consuelo. I have something to say to you, and you must + read it patiently, for I shall never say it again--and after all, + it will not be much. Is it right of me to say it? I do not know. + Until to-morrow I have still time to refuse to be married. + Therefore I am still a free agent, and entitled to think freely. + After to-morrow it will be different. + + "I wish, dear, that I could tell you all the truth. Perhaps you + would not be ashamed of having loved the daughter of Lucrezia + Ferris. But I cannot tell you all. There are reasons why you had + better never know it. But I will tell you this, for I must say it + once. I love you very dearly. I loved you long ago, I loved you + when I left you in Rome, I have loved you ever since, and I am + afraid that I shall love you until I die. + + "It is not foolish of me to write the words, though it may be + wrong. If I love you, it is because I know you. We shall meet + before long, and then meet, perhaps, hundreds of times, and more, + for I am to live in Rome. I know that you will be all you should + be, or I would not speak now as I never spoke before, at the moment + when I am raising an impassable barrier between us by my own free + will. If you ever loved me--and you did--you will respect that + barrier in deed and word, and even in thought. You will remember + only that I loved you with all my heart on the day before my + marriage. You will forget even to think that I may love you still + to-morrow, and think tenderly of you on the day after that. + + "You are free now, dear, and can begin your real life. How do I + know it? Del Ferice has told me that he has released you--for we + sometimes speak of you. He has even shown me a copy of the legal + act of release, which he chanced to find among the papers he had + brought. An accident, perhaps. Or, perhaps he knows that I loved + you. I do not care--I had a right to, then. + + "So you are quite free. I like to think that you have come out of + all your troubles quite unscathed, young, your name untarnished, + your hands clean. I am glad that you answered the letter I wrote to + you from Egypt and told me all, and wrote so often afterwards. I + could not do much beyond give you my sympathy, and I gave it + all--to the uttermost. You will not need any more of it. You are + free now, thank God! + + "If you think of me, wish me peace, dear--I do not ask for anything + nearer to happiness than that. But I wish you many things, the + least of which should make you happy. Most of all, I wish that you + may some day love well and truly, and win the reality of which you + once thought you held the shadow. Can I say more than that? No + loving woman can. + + "And so, good-bye--good-bye, love of all my life, good-bye dear, + dear Orsino--I think this is the hardest good-bye of all--when we + are to meet so soon. I cannot write any more. Once again, the + last--the very last time, for ever--I love you. + + "MARIA CONSUELO." + +A strange sensation came over Orsino as he read this letter. He was not +able at first to realise much beyond the fact that Maria Consuelo was +actually married to Del Ferice--a match than which none imaginable could +have been more unexpected. But he felt that there was more behind the +facts than he was able to grasp, almost more than he dared to guess at. +A mysterious horror filled his mind as he read and reread the lines. +There was no doubting the sincerity of what she said. He doubted the +survival of his own love much more. She could have no reason whatever +for writing as she did, on the eve of her marriage, no reason beyond the +irresistible desire to speak out all her heart once only and for the +last time. Again and again he went over the passages which struck him as +most strange. Then the truth flashed upon him. Maria Consuelo had sold +herself to free him from his difficulties, to save him from the terrible +alternatives of either wasting his life as Del Ferice's slave or of +ruining his family. + +With a smothered exclamation, between an oath and a groan of pain, +Orsino threw himself upon the divan and buried his face in his hands. +It is kinder to leave him there for a time, alone. + +Poor Spicca broke down under this last blow. In vain old Santi got out +the cordial from the press in the corner, and did his best to bring his +master back to his natural self. In vain Spicca roused himself, forced +himself to eat, went out, walked his hour, dragging his feet after him, +and attempted to exchange a word with his friends at the club. He seemed +to have got his death wound. His head sank lower on his breast, his long +emaciated frame stooped more and more, the thin hands grew daily more +colourless, and the deathly face daily more deathly pale. Days passed +away, and weeks, and it was early June. He no longer tried to go out. +Santi tried to prevail upon him to take a little air in a cab, on the +Via Appia. It would be money well spent, he said, apologising for +suggesting such extravagance. Spicca shook his head, and kept to his +chair by the open window. Then, on a certain morning, he was worse and +had not the strength to rise from his bed. + +On that very morning a telegram came. He looked at it as though hardly +understanding what he should do, as Santi held it before him. Then he +opened it. His fingers did not tremble even now. The iron nerve of the +great swordsman survived still. + +"Ventnor--Rome. Count Spicca. The Princess is dead. I know the truth at +last. God forgive me and bless you. I come to you at once.--Maria +Consuelo." + +Spicca read the few words printed on the white strip that was pasted to +the yellow paper. Then his hands sank to his sides and he closed his +eyes. Santi thought it was the end, and burst into tears as he fell to +his knees by the bed. + +Half an hour passed. Then Spicca raised his head, and made a gesture +with his hand. + +"Do not be a fool, Santi, I am not dead yet," he said, with kindly +impatience. "Get up and send for Don Orsino Saracinesca, if he is still +in Rome." + +Santi left the room, drying his eyes and uttering incoherent +exclamations of astonishment mingled with a singular cross fire of +praise and prayer directed to the Saints and of imprecations upon +himself for his own stupidity. + +Before noon Orsino appeared. He was gaunt and pale, and more like San +Giacinto than ever. There was a settled hardness in his face which was +never again to disappear permanently. But he was horror-struck by +Spicca's appearance. He had no idea that a man already so cadaverous +could still change as the old man had changed. Spicca seemed little more +than a grey shadow barely resting upon the white bed. He put the +telegram into Orsino's hands. The young man read it twice and his face +expressed his astonishment. Spicca smiled faintly, as he watched him. + +"What does it mean?" asked Orsino. "Of what truth does she speak? She +hated you, and now, all at once, she loves you. I do not understand." + +"How should you?" The old man spoke in a clear, thin voice, very unlike +his own. "You could not understand. But before I die, I will tell you." + +"Do not talk of dying--" + +"No. It is not necessary. I realise it enough, and you need not realise +it at all. I have not much to tell you, but a little truth will +sometimes destroy many falsehoods. You remember the story about Lucrezia +Ferris? Maria Consuelo wrote it to you." + +"Remember it! Could I forget it?" + +"You may as well. There is not a word of truth in it. Lucrezia Ferris is +not her mother." + +"Not her mother!" + +"No. I only wonder how you could ever have believed that a Piedmontese +nurse could be the mother of Maria Consuelo. Nor am I Maria Consuelo's +father. Perhaps that will not surprise you so much. She does not +resemble me, thank Heaven!" + +"What is she then? Who is she?" asked Orsino impatiently. + +"To tell you that I must tell you the story. When I was young--very long +before you were born--I travelled much, and I was well received. I was +rich and of good family. At a certain court in Europe--I was at one time +in the diplomacy--I loved a lady whom I could not have married, even had +she been free. Her station was far above mine. She was also considerably +older than I, and she paid very little attention to me, I confess. But I +loved her. She is just dead. She was that princess mentioned in this +telegram. Do you understand? Do you hear me? My voice is weak." + +"Perfectly. Pray go on." + +"Maria Consuelo is her grandchild--the granddaughter of the only woman I +ever loved. Understand that, too. It happened in this way. My Princess +had but one daughter, the Princess Marie, a mere child when I first saw +her--not more than fourteen years old. We were all in Nice, one winter +thirty years ago--some four years after I had first met the Princess. I +travelled in order to see her, and she was always kind to me, though she +did not love me. Perhaps I was useful, too, before that. People were +always afraid of me, because I could handle the foils. It was thirty +years ago, and the Princess Marie was eighteen. Poor child!" + +Spicca paused a moment, and passed his transparent hand over his eyes. + +"I think I understand," said Orsino. + +"No you do not," answered Spicca, with unexpected sharpness. "You will +not understand, until I have told you everything. The Princess Marie +fell ill, or pretended to fall ill while we were at Nice. But she could +not conceal the truth long--at least not from her mother. She had +already taken into her confidence a little Piedmontese maid, scarcely +older than herself--a certain Lucrezia Ferris--and she allowed no other +woman to come near her. Then she told her mother the truth. She loved a +man of her own rank and not much older--not yet of age, in fact. +Unfortunately, as happens with such people, a marriage was +diplomatically impossible. He was not of her nationality and the +relations were strained. But she had married him nevertheless, secretly +and, as it turned out, without any legal formalities. It is questionable +whether the marriage, even then, could have been proved to be valid, for +she was a Catholic and he was not, and a Catholic priest had married +them without proper authorisation or dispensation. But they were both in +earnest, both young and both foolish. The husband--his name is of no +importance--was very far away at the time we were in Nice, and was quite +unable to come to her. She was about to be a mother and she turned to +her own mother in her extremity, with a full confession of the truth." + +"I see," said Orsino. "And you adopted--" + +"You do not see yet. The Princess came to me for advice. The situation +was an extremely delicate one from all points of view. To declare the +marriage at that moment might have produced extraordinary complications, +for the countries to which, the two young people belonged were on the +verge of a war which was only retarded by the extraordinary genius of +one man. To conceal it seemed equally dangerous, if not more so. The +Princess Marie's reputation was at stake--the reputation of a young +girl, as people supposed her to be, remember that. Various schemes +suggested themselves. I cannot tell what would have been done, for fate +decided the matter--tragically, as fate does. The young husband was +killed while on a shooting expedition--at least so it was stated. I +always believed that he shot himself. It was all very mysterious. We +could not keep the news from the Princess Marie. That night Maria +Consuelo was born. On the next day, her mother died. The shock had +killed her. The secret was now known to the old Princess, to me, to +Lucrezia Ferris and to the French doctor--a man of great skill and +discretion. Maria Consuelo was the nameless orphan child of an +unacknowledged marriage--of a marriage which was certainly not legal, +and which the Church must hesitate to ratify. Again we saw that the +complications, diplomatic and of other kinds, which would arise if the +truth were published, would be enormous. The Prince himself was not yet +in Nice and was quite ignorant of the true cause of his daughter's +sudden death. But he would arrive in forty-eight hours, and it was +necessary to decide upon some course. We could rely upon the doctor and +upon our two selves--the Princess and I. Lucrezia Ferris seemed to be a +sensible, quiet girl, and she certainly proved to be discreet for a long +time. The Princess was distracted with grief and beside herself with +anxiety. Remember that I loved her--that explains what I did. I proposed +the plan which was carried out and with which you are acquainted. I took +the child, declared it to be mine, and married Lucrezia. The only legal +documents in existence concerning Maria Consuelo prove her to be my +daughter. The priest who had married the poor Princess Marie could never +be found. Terrified, perhaps, at what he had done, he +disappeared--probably as a monk in an Austrian monastery. I hunted him +for years. Lucrezia Ferris was discreet for two reasons. She received a +large sum of money, and a large allowance afterwards, and later on it +appears that she further enriched herself at Maria Consuelo's expense. +Avarice was her chief fault, and by it we held her. Secondly, however, +she was well aware, and knows to-day, that no one would believe her +story if she told the truth. The proofs are all positive and legal for +Maria Consuelo's supposed parentage, and there is not a trace of +evidence in favour of the truth. You know the story now. I am glad I +have been able to tell it to you. I will rest now, for I am very tired. +If I am alive to-morrow, come and see me--good-bye, in case you should +not find me." + +Orsino pressed the wasted hand and went out silently, more affected than +he owned by the dying man's words and looks. It was a painful story of +well-meant mistakes, he thought, and it explained many things which he +had not understood. Linking it with all he knew besides, he had the +whole history of Spicca's mysterious, broken life, together with the +explanation of some points in his own which had never been clear to him. +The old cynic of a duellist had been a man of heart, after all, and had +sacrificed his whole existence to keep a secret for a woman whom he +loved but who did not care for him. That was all. She was dead and he +was dying. The secret was already half buried in the past. If it were +told now, no one would believe it. + +Orsino returned on the following day. He had sent for news several +times, and was told that Spicca still lingered. He saw him again but the +old man seemed very weak and only spoke a few words during the hour +Orsino spent with him. The doctor had said that he might possibly live, +but that there was not much hope. + +And again on the next day Orsino came back. He started as he entered the +room. An old Franciscan, a Minorite, was by the bedside, speaking in low +tones. Orsino made as though he would withdraw, but Spicca feebly +beckoned to him to stay, and the monk rose. + +"Good-bye," whispered Spicca, following him with his sunken eyes. + +Orsino led the Franciscan out. At the outer door the latter turned to +Orsino with a strange look and laid a hand upon his arm. + +"Who are you, my son?" he asked. + +"Orsino Saracinesca." + +"A friend of his?" + +"Yes." + +"He has done terrible things in his long life. But he has done noble +things, too, and has suffered much, and in silence. He has earned his +rest, and God will forgive him." + +The monk bowed his head and went out. Orsino re-entered the room and +took the vacant chair beside the bed. He touched Spicca's hand almost +affectionately, but the latter withdrew it with an effort. He had never +liked sympathy, and liked it least when another would have needed it +most. For a considerable time neither spoke. The pale hand lay +peacefully upon the pillows, the long, shadowy frame was wrapped in a +gown of dark woollen material. + +"Do you think she will come to-day?" asked the old man at length. + +"She may come to-day--I hope so," Orsino answered. + +A long pause followed. + +"I hope so, too," Spicca whispered. "I have not much strength left. I +cannot wait much longer." + +Again there was silence. Orsino knew that there was nothing to be said, +nothing at least which he could say, to cheer the last hours of the +lonely life. But Spicca seemed contented that he should sit there. + +"Give me that photograph," he said, suddenly, a quarter of an hour +later. + +Orsino looked about him but could not see what Spicca wanted. + +"Hers," said the feeble voice, "in the next room." + +It was the photograph in the little chiselled frame--the same frame +which had once excited Donna Tullia's scorn. Orsino brought it quickly +from its place over the chimney-piece, and held it before his friend's +eyes. Spicca gazed at it a long time in silence. + +"Take it away," he said, at last. "It is not like her." + +Orsino put it aside and sat down again. Presently Spicca turned a little +on the pillow and looked at him. + +"Do you remember that I once said I wished you might marry her?" he +asked. + +"Yes." + +"It was quite true. You understand now? I could not tell you then." + +"Yes. I understand everything now." + +"But I am sorry I said it." + +"Why?" "Perhaps it influenced you and has hurt your life. I am sorry. +You must forgive me." + +"For Heaven's sake, do not distress yourself about such trifles," said +Orsino, earnestly. "There is nothing to forgive." + +"Thank you." + +Orsino looked at him, pondering on the peaceful ending of the strange +life, and wondering what manner of heart and soul the man had really +lived with. With the intuition which sometimes comes to dying persons, +Spicca understood, though it was long before he spoke again. There was a +faint touch of his old manner in his words. + +"I am an awful example, Orsino," he said, with the ghost of a smile. "Do +not imitate me. Do not sacrifice your life for the love of any woman. +Try and appreciate sacrifices in others." + +The smile died away again. + +"And yet I am glad I did it," he added, a moment later. "Perhaps it was +all a mistake--but I did my best." + +"You did indeed," Orsino answered gravely. + +He meant what he said, though he felt that it had indeed been all a +mistake, as Spicca suggested. The young face was very thoughtful. Spicca +little knew how hard his last cynicism hit the man beside him, for whose +freedom and safety the woman of whom Spicca was thinking had sacrificed +so very much. He would die without knowing that. + +The door opened softly and a woman's light footstep was on the +threshold. Maria Consuelo came silently and swiftly forward with +outstretched hands that had clasped the dying man's almost before Orsino +realised that it was she herself. She fell on her knees beside the bed +and pressed the powerless cold fingers to her forehead. + +Spicca started and for one moment raised his head from the pillow. It +fell back almost instantly. A look of supreme happiness flashed over +the deathly features, followed by an expression of pain. + +"Why did you marry him?" he asked in tones so loud that Orsino started, +and Maria Consuelo looked up with streaming eyes. + +She did not answer, but tried to soothe him, rising and caressing his +hand, and smoothing his pillows. + +"Tell me why you married him!" he cried again. "I am dying--I must +know!" + +She bent down very low and whispered into his ear. He shook his head +impatiently. + +"Louder! I cannot hear! Louder!" + +Again she whispered, more distinctly this time, and casting an imploring +glance at Orsino, who was too much disturbed to understand. + +"Louder!" gasped the dying man, struggling to sit up. "Louder! O my God! +I shall die without hearing you--without knowing--" + +It would have been inhuman to torture the departing soul any longer. +Then Maria Consuelo made her last sacrifice. She spoke in calm, clear +tones. + +"I married to save the man I loved." + +Spicca's expression changed. For fully twenty seconds his sunken eyes +remained fixed, gazing into hers. Then the light began to flash in them +for the last time, keen as the lightning. + +"God have mercy on you! God reward you!" he cried. + +The shadowy figure quivered throughout its length, was still, then +quivered again, then sprang up suddenly with a leap, and Spicca was +standing on the floor, clasping Maria Consuelo in his arms. All at once +there was colour in his face and the fire grew bright in his glance. + +"Oh, my darling, I have loved you so!" he cried. + +He almost lifted her from the ground as he pressed his lips passionately +upon her forehead. His long thin hands relaxed suddenly, and the light +broke in his eyes as when a mirror is shivered by a blow. For an instant +that seemed an age, he stood upright, dead already, and then fell back +all his length across the bed with wide extended arms. + +There was a short, sharp sob, and then a sound of passionate weeping +filled the silent room. Strongly and tenderly Orsino laid his dead +friend upon the couch as he had lain alive but two minutes earlier. He +crossed the hands upon the breast and gently closed the staring eyes. He +could not have had Maria Consuelo see him as he had fallen, when she +next looked up. + +A little later they stood side by side, gazing at the calm dead face, in +a long silence. How long they stood, they never knew, for their hearts +were very full. The sun was going down and the evening light filled the +room. + +"Did he tell you, before he died--about me?" asked Maria Consuelo in a +low voice. + +"Yes. He told me everything." + +Maria Consuelo went forward and bent over the face and kissed the white +forehead, and made the sign of the Cross upon it. Then she turned and +took Orsino's hand in hers. + +"I could not help your hearing what I said, Orsino. He was dying, you +see. You know all, now." + +Orsino's fingers pressed hers desperately. For a moment he could not +speak. Then the agonised words came with a great effort, harshly but +ringing from the heart. + +"And I can give you nothing!" + +He covered his face and turned away. + +"Give me your friendship, dear--I never had your love," she said. + +It was long before they talked together again. + +This is what I know of young Orsino Saracinesca's life up to the present +time. Maria Consuelo, Countess Del Ferice, was right. She never had his +love as he had hers. Perhaps the power of loving so is not in him. He +is, after all, more like San Giacinto than any other member of the +family, cold, perhaps, and hard by nature. But these things which I have +described have made a man of him at an age when many men are but boys, +and he has learnt what many never learn at all--that there is more true +devotion to be found in the world than most people will acknowledge. He +may some day be heard of. He may some day fall under the great passion. +Or he may never love at all and may never distinguish himself any more +than his father has done. One or the other may happen, but not both, in +all probability. The very greatest passion is rarely compatible with the +very greatest success except in extraordinary good or bad natures. And +Orsino Saracinesca is not extraordinary in any way. His character has +been formed by the unusual circumstances in which he was placed when +very young, rather than by anything like the self-development which we +hear of in the lives of great men. From a somewhat foolish and +affectedly cynical youth he has grown into a decidedly hard and +cool-headed man. He is very much seen in society but talks little on the +whole. If, hereafter, there should be anything in his life worth +recording, another hand than mine may write it down for future readers. + +If any one cares to ask why I have thought it worth the trouble to +describe his early years so minutely, I answer that the young man of the +Transition Period interests me. Perhaps I am singular in that. Orsino +Saracinesca is a fair type, I think, of his class at his age. I have +done my best to be just to him. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Orsino, by F. 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Marion Crawford.</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em;text-indent:4%; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + } + HR { width: 33%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + } + BODY{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 1em; font-size: smaller; float: right; clear: right;} + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + .poem .caesura {vertical-align: -200%;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> + <body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Orsino, by F. Marion Crawford + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Don Orsino + +Author: F. Marion Crawford + +Release Date: August 19, 2004 [EBook #13218] +[Last updated: December 22, 2015] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DON ORSINO *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + <!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. --> + <h1><b>DON ORSINO</b></h1> + <br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_I'><b>CHAPTER I.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_II'><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_III'><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_IV'><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_V'><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VI'><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VII'><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_VIII'><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_IX'><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_X'><b>CHAPTER X.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XI'><b>CHAPTER XI.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XII'><b>CHAPTER XII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIII'><b>CHAPTER XIII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIV'><b>CHAPTER XIV.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XV'><b>CHAPTER XV.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVI'><b>CHAPTER XVI.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVII'><b>CHAPTER XVII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII'><b>CHAPTER XVIII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XIX'><b>CHAPTER XIX.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XX'><b>CHAPTER XX.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXI'><b>CHAPTER XXI.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXII'><b>CHAPTER XXII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII'><b>CHAPTER XXIII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV'><b>CHAPTER XXIV.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXV'><b>CHAPTER XXV.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXVI'><b>CHAPTER XXVI.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXVII'><b>CHAPTER XXVII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXVIII'><b>CHAPTER XXVIII.</b></a><br /> + <a href='#CHAPTER_XXIX'><b>CHAPTER XXIX.</b></a><br /> + <!-- End Autogenerated TOC. --> + + <h1>DON ORSINO</h1> + <h3>BY</h3> + <h2>F. MARION CRAWFORD</h2> + <p>AUTHOR OF "THE THREE FATES," "ZOROASTER," "DR. CLAUDIUS," "SARACINESCA," ETC.</p> + <br /> + + <p>NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS</p> + <p>1891, MACMILLAN AND CO.</p> + <p>Reprinted January, April, December, 1893; June, 1894; January, November, 1895; + June, 1896, January, 1898, June, 1899; July, 1901 June, 1903; June, 1905; January, + 1907.</p> + <br /> + + <p><i>Fifty-sixth Thousand</i></p> + <br /> + + <p>Norwood Press J.S. Cushing & Co.—Berwick & Smith Norwood Mass. + U.S.A.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_I" name='CHAPTER_I'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER I.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Don Orsino Saracinesca is of the younger age and lives in the younger Rome, with + his father and mother, under the roof of the vast old palace which has sheltered so + many hundreds of Saracinesca in peace and war, but which has rarely in the course of + the centuries been the home of three generations at once during one and twenty + years.</p> + <p>The lover of romance may lie in the sun, caring not for the time of day and + content to watch the butterflies that cross his blue sky on the way from one flower + to another. But the historian is an entomologist who must be stirring. He must catch + the moths, which are his facts, in the net which is his memory, and he must fasten + them upon his paper with sharp pins, which are dates.</p> + <p>By far the greater number of old Prince Saracinesca's contemporaries are dead, and + more or less justly forgotten. Old Valdarno died long ago in his bed, surrounded by + sons and daughters. The famous dandy of other days, the Duke of Astrardente, died at + his young wife's feet some three and twenty years before this chapter of family + history opens. Then the primeval Prince Montevarchi came to a violent end at the + hands of his librarian, leaving his English princess consolable but unconsoled, + leaving also his daughter Flavia married to that other Giovanni Saracinesca who still + bears the name of Marchese di San Giacinto; while the younger girl, the fair, + brown-eyed Faustina, loved a poor Frenchman, half soldier and all artist. The weak, + good-natured Ascanio Bellegra reigns in his father's stead, the timidly extravagant + master of all that wealth which the miser's lean and crooked fingers had consigned to + a safe keeping. Frangipani too, whose son was to have married Faustina, is gone these + many years, and others of the older and graver sort have learned the great secret + from the lips of death.</p> + <p>But there have been other and greater deaths, beside which the mortality of a + whole society of noblemen sinks into insignificance. An empire is dead and another + has arisen in the din of a vast war, begotten in bloodshed, brought forth in strife, + baptized with fire. The France we knew is gone, and the French Republic writes + "Liberty, Fraternity, Equality" in great red letters above the gate of its + habitation, which within is yet hung with mourning. Out of the nest of kings and + princes and princelings, and of all manner of rulers great and small, rises the + solitary eagle of the new German Empire and hangs on black wings between sky and + earth, not striking again, but always ready, a vision of armed peace, a terror, a + problem—perhaps a warning.</p> + <p>Old Rome is dead, too, never to be old Rome again. The last breath has been + breathed, the aged eyes are closed for ever, corruption has done its work, and the + grand skeleton lies bleaching upon seven hills, half covered with the piecemeal + stucco of a modern architectural body. The result is satisfactory to those who have + brought it about, if not to the rest of the world. The sepulchre of old Rome is the + new capital of united Italy.</p> + <p>The three chief actors are dead also—the man of heart, the man of action and + the man of wit, the good, the brave and, the cunning, the Pope, the King and the + Cardinal—Pius the Ninth, Victor Emmanuel the Second, Giacomo Antonelli. Rome + saw them all dead.</p> + <p>In a poor chamber of the Vatican, upon a simple bed, beside which burned two waxen + torches in the cold morning light, lay the body of the man whom none had loved and + many had feared, clothed in the violet robe of the cardinal-deacon. The keen face was + drawn up on one side with a strange look of mingled pity and contempt. The delicate, + thin hands were clasped together on the breast. The chilly light fell upon the dead + features, the silken robe and the stone floor. A single servant in a shabby livery + stood in a corner, smiling foolishly, while the tears stood in his eyes and wet his + unshaven cheeks. Perhaps he cared, as servants will, when no one else cares. The door + opened almost directly upon a staircase and the noise of the feet of those passing up + and down upon the stone steps disturbed the silence in the death chamber. At night + the poor body was thrust unhonoured into a common coach and driven out to its + resting-place.</p> + <p>In a vast hall, upon an enormous catafalque, full thirty feet above the floor, lay + all that was left of the honest king. Thousands of wax candles cast their light up to + the dark, shapeless face, and upon the military accoutrements of the uniform in which + the huge body was clothed. A great crowd pressed to the railing to gaze their fill + and go away. Behind the division tall troopers in cuirasses mounted guard and moved + carelessly about. It was all tawdry, but tawdry on a magnificent scale—all + unlike the man in whose honour it was done. For he had been simple and brave.</p> + <p>When he was at last borne to his tomb in the Pantheon, a file of imperial and + royal princes marched shoulder to shoulder down the street before him, and the black + charger he had loved was led after him.</p> + <p>In a dim chapel of St. Peter's lay the Pope, robed in white, the jewelled tiara + upon his head, his white face calm and peaceful. Six torches burned beside him; six + nobles of the guard stood like statues with drawn swords, three on his right hand and + three on his left. That was all. The crowd passed in single file before the great + closed gates of the Julian Chapel.</p> + <p>At night he was borne reverently by loving hands to the deep crypt below. But at + another time, at night also, the dead man was taken up and driven towards the gate to + be buried without the walls. Then a great crowd assembled in the darkness and fell + upon the little band and stoned the coffin of him who never harmed any man, and + screamed out curses and blasphemies till all the city was astir with riot. That was + the last funeral hymn.</p> + <p>Old Rome is gone. The narrow streets are broad thoroughfares, the Jews' quarter is + a flat and dusty building lot, the fountain of Ponte Sisto is swept away, one by one + the mighty pines of Villa Ludovisi have fallen under axe and saw, and a cheap, thinly + inhabited quarter is built upon the site of the enchanted garden. The network of + by-ways from the Jesuits' church to the Sant' Angelo bridge is ploughed up and opened + by the huge Corso Vittorio Emmanuele. Buildings which strangers used to search for in + the shade, guide-book and map in hand, are suddenly brought into the blaze of light + that fills broad streets and sweeps across great squares. The vast Cancelleria stands + out nobly to the sun, the curved front of the Massimo palace exposes its black + colonnade to sight upon the greatest thoroughfare of the new city, the ancient Arco + de' Cenci exhibits its squalor in unshadowed sunshine, the Portico of Octavia once + more looks upon the river.</p> + <p>He who was born and bred in the Rome of twenty years ago comes back after a long + absence to wander as a stranger in streets he never knew, among houses unfamiliar to + him, amidst a population whose speech sounds strange in his ears. He roams the city + from the Lateran to the Tiber, from the Tiber to the Vatican, finding himself now and + then before some building once familiar in another aspect, losing himself perpetually + in unprofitable wastes made more monotonous than the sandy desert by the modern + builder's art. Where once he lingered in old days to glance at the river, or to dream + of days yet older and long gone, scarce conscious of the beggar at his elbow and + hardly seeing the half dozen workmen who laboured at their trades almost in the + middle of the public way—where all was once aged and silent and melancholy and + full of the elder memories—there, at that very corner, he is hustled and + jostled by an eager crowd, thrust to the wall by huge, grinding, creaking carts, + threatened with the modern death by the wheel of the modern omnibus, deafened by the + yells of the modern newsvendors, robbed, very likely, by the light fingers of the + modern inhabitant.</p> + <p>And yet he feels that Rome must be Rome still. He stands aloof and gazes at the + sight as upon a play in which Rome herself is the great heroine and actress. He knows + the woman and he sees the artist for the first time, not recognising her. She is a + dark-eyed, black-haired, thoughtful woman when not upon the stage. How should he know + her in the strange disguise, her head decked with Gretchen's fair tresses, her olive + cheek daubed with pink and white paint, her stately form clothed in garments that + would be gay and girlish but which are only unbecoming? He would gladly go out and + wait by the stage door until the performance is over, to see the real woman pass him + in the dim light of the street lamps as she enters her carriage and becomes herself + again. And so, in the reality, he turns his back upon the crowd and strolls away, not + caring whither he goes until, by a mere accident, he finds himself upon the height of + Sant' Onofrio, or standing before the great fountains of the Acqua Paola, or perhaps + upon the drive which leads through the old Villa Corsini along the crest of the + Janiculum. Then, indeed, the scene thus changes, the actress is gone and the woman is + before him; the capital of modern Italy sinks like a vision into the earth out of + which it was called up, and the capital of the world rises once more, unchanged, + unchanging and unchangeable, before the wanderer's eyes. The greater monuments of + greater times are there still, majestic and unmoved, the larger signs of a larger age + stand out clear and sharp; the tomb of Hadrian frowns on the yellow stream, the heavy + hemisphere of the Pantheon turns its single opening to the sky, the enormous dome of + the world's cathedral looks silently down upon the sepulchre of the world's + masters.</p> + <p>Then the sun sets and the wanderer goes down again through the chilly evening air + to the city below, to find it less modern than he had thought. He has found what he + sought and he knows that the real will outlast the false, that the stone will outlive + the stucco and that the builder of to-day is but a builder of card-houses beside the + architects who made Rome.</p> + <p>So his heart softens a little, or at least grows less resentful, for he has + realised how small the change really is as compared with the first effect produced. + The great house has fallen into new hands and the latest tenant is furnishing the + dwelling to his taste. That is all. He will not tear down the walls, for his hands + are too feeble to build them again, even if he were not occupied with other matters + and hampered by the disagreeable consciousness of the extravagances he has already + committed.</p> + <p>Other things have been accomplished, some of which may perhaps endure, and some of + which are good in themselves, while some are indifferent and some distinctly bad. The + great experiment of Italian unity is in process of trial and the world is already + forming its opinion upon the results. Society, heedless as it necessarily is of + contemporary history, could not remain indifferent to the transformation of its + accustomed surroundings; and here, before entering upon an account of individual + doings, the chronicler may be allowed to say a few words upon a matter little + understood by foreigners, even when they have spent several seasons in Rome and have + made acquaintance with each other for the purpose of criticising the Romans.</p> + <p>Immediately after the taking of the city in 1870, three distinct parties declared + themselves, to wit, the Clericals or Blacks, the Monarchists or Whites, and the + Republicans or Beds. All three had doubtless existed for a considerable time, but the + wine of revolution favoured the expression of the truth, and society awoke one + morning to find itself divided into camps holding very different opinions.</p> + <p>At first the mass of the greater nobles stood together for the lost temporal power + of the Pope, while a great number of the less important families followed two or + three great houses in siding with the Royalists. The Republican idea, as was natural, + found but few sympathisers in the highest class, and these were, I believe, in all + cases young men whose fathers were Blacks or Whites, and most of whom have since + thought fit to modify their opinions in one direction or the other. Nevertheless the + Red interest was, and still is, tolerably strong and has been destined to play that + powerful part in parliamentary life, which generally falls to the lot of a compact + third party, where a fourth does not yet exist, or has no political influence, as is + the case in Rome.</p> + <p>For there is a fourth body in Rome, which has little political but much social + importance. It was not possible that people who had grown up together in the intimacy + of a close caste-life, calling each other "thee" and "thou," and forming the + hereditary elements of a still feudal organisation, should suddenly break off all + acquaintance and be strangers one to another. The brother, a born and convinced + clerical, found that his own sister had followed her husband to the court of the new + King. The rigid adherent of the old order met his own son in the street, arrayed in + the garb of an Italian officer. The two friends who had stood side by side in good + and evil case for a score of years saw themselves suddenly divided by the gulf which + lies between a Roman cardinal and a Senator of the Italian Kingdom. The breach was + sudden and great, but it was bridged for many by the invention of a fourth, + proportional. The points of contact between White and Black became Grey, and a social + power, politically neutral and constitutionally indifferent, arose as a mediator + between the Contents and the Malcontents. There were families that had never loved + the old order but which distinctly disliked the new, and who opened their doors to + the adherents of both. There is a house which has become Grey out of a sort of + superstition inspired by the unfortunate circumstances which oddly coincided with + each movement of its members to join the new order. There is another, and one of the + greatest, in which a very high hereditary dignity in the one party, still exercised + by force of circumstances, effectually forbids the expression of a sincere sympathy + with the opposed power. Another there is, whose members are cousins of the one + sovereign and personal friends of the other.</p> + <p>A further means of amalgamation has been found in the existence of the double + embassies of the great powers. Austria, France and Spain each send an Ambassador to + the King of Italy and an Ambassador to the Pope, of like state and importance. Even + Protestant Prussia maintains a Minister Plenipotentiary to the Holy See. Russia has + her diplomatic agent to the Vatican, and several of the smaller powers keep up two + distinct legations. It is naturally neither possible nor intended that these + diplomatists should never meet on friendly terms, though they are strictly + interdicted from issuing official invitations to each other. Their point of contact + is another grey square on the chess-board.</p> + <p>The foreigner, too, is generally a neutral individual, for if his political + convictions lean towards the wrong side of the Tiber his social tastes incline to + Court balls; or if he is an admirer of Italian institutions, his curiosity may yet + lead him to seek a presentation at the Vatican, and his inexplicable though recent + love of feudal princedom may take him, card-case in hand, to that great stronghold of + Vaticanism which lies due west of the Piazza di Venezia and due north of the + Capitol.</p> + <p>During the early years which followed the change, the attitude of society in Rome + was that of protest and indignation on the one hand, of enthusiasm and rather + brutally expressed triumph on the other. The line was very clearly drawn, for the + adherence was of the nature of personal loyalty on both sides. Eight years and a half + later the personal feeling disappeared with the almost simultaneous death of Pius IX. + and Victor Emmanuel II. From that time the great strife degenerated by degrees into a + difference of opinion. It may perhaps be said also that both parties became aware of + their common enemy, the social democrat, soon after the disappearance of the popular + King whose great individual influence was of more value to the cause of a united + monarchy than all the political clubs and organisations in Italy put together. He was + a strong man. He only once, I think, yielded to the pressure of a popular excitement, + namely, in the matter of seizing Rome when the French troops were withdrawn, thereby + violating a ratified Treaty. But his position was a hard one. He regretted the + apparent necessity, and to the day of his death he never would sleep under the roof + of Pius the Ninth's Palace on the Quirinal, but had his private apartments in an + adjoining building. He was brave and generous. Such faults as he had were no burden + to the nation and concerned himself alone. The same praise may be worthily bestowed + upon his successor, but the personal influence is no longer the same, any more than + that of Leo XIII. can be compared with that of Pius IX., though all the world is + aware of the present Pope's intellectual superiority and lofty moral principle.</p> + <p>Let us try to be just. The unification of Italy has been the result of a noble + conception. The execution of the scheme has not been without faults, and some of + these faults have brought about deplorable, even disastrous, consequences, such as to + endanger the stability of the new order. The worst of these attendant errors has been + the sudden imposition of a most superficial and vicious culture, under the name of + enlightenment and education. The least of the new Government's mistakes has been a + squandering of the public money, which, when considered with reference to the + country's resources, has perhaps no parallel in the history of nations.</p> + <p>Yet the first idea was large, patriotic, even grand. The men who first steered the + ship of the state were honourable, disinterested, devoted—men like Minghetti, + who will not soon be forgotten—loyal, conservative monarchists, whose thoughts + were free from exaggeration, save that they believed almost too blindly in the power + of a constitution to build up a kingdom, and credited their fellows almost too + readily with a purpose as pure and blameless as their own. Can more be said for + these? I think not. They rest in honourable graves, their doings live in honoured + remembrance—would that there had been such another generation to succeed + them.</p> + <p>And having said thus much, let us return to the individuals who have played a part + in the history of the Saracinesca. They have grown older, some gracefully, some under + protest, some most unbecomingly.</p> + <p>In the end of the year 1887 old Leone Saracinesca is still alive, being eighty-two + years of age. His massive head has sunk a little between his slightly rounded + shoulders, and his white beard is no longer cut short and square, but flows + majestically down upon his broad breast. His step is slow, but firm still, and when + he looks up suddenly from under his wrinkled lids, the fire is not even yet all gone + from his eyes. He is still contradictory by nature, but he has mellowed like rare + wine in the long years of prosperity and peace. When the change came in Rome he was + in the mountains at Saracinesca, with his daughter-in-law, Corona and her children. + His son Giovanni, generally known as Prince of Sant' Ilario, was among the volunteers + at the last and sat for half a day upon his horse in the Pincio, listening to the + bullets that sang over his head while his men fired stray shots from the parapets of + the public garden into the road below. Giovanni is fifty-two years old, but though + his hair is grey at the temples and his figure a trifle sturdier and broader than of + old, he is little changed. His son, Orsino, who will soon be of age, overtops him by + a head and shoulders, a dark youth, slender still, but strong and active, the chief + person in this portion of my chronicle. Orsino has three brothers of ranging ages, of + whom the youngest is scarcely twelve years old. Not one girl child has been given to + Giovanni and Corona and they almost wish that one of the sturdy little lads had been + a daughter. But old Saracinesca laughs and shakes his head and says he will not die + till his four grandsons are strong enough to bear him to his grave upon their + shoulders.</p> + <p>Corona is still beautiful, still dark, still magnificent, though she has reached + the age beyond which no woman ever goes until after death. There are few lines in the + noble face and such as are there are not the scars of heart wounds. Her life, too, + has been peaceful and undisturbed by great events these many years. There is, indeed, + one perpetual anxiety in her existence, for the old prince is an aged man and she + loves him dearly. The tough strength must give way some day and there will be a great + mourning in the house of Saracinesca, nor will any mourn the dead more sincerely than + Corona. And there is a shade of bitterness in the knowledge that her marvellous + beauty is waning. Can she be blamed for that? She has been beautiful so long. What + woman who has been first for a quarter of a century can give up her place without a + sigh? But much has been given to her to soften the years of transition, and she knows + that also, when she looks from her husband to her four boys.</p> + <p>Then, too, it seems more easy to grow old when she catches a glimpse from time to + time of Donna Tullia Del Ferice, who wears her years ungracefully, and who was once + so near to becoming Giovanni Saracinesca's wife. Donna Tullia is fat and fiery of + complexion, uneasily vivacious and unsure of herself. Her disagreeable blue eyes have + not softened, nor has the metallic tone of her voice lost its sharpness. Yet she + should not be a disappointed woman, for Del Ferice is a power in the land, a member + of parliament, a financier and a successful schemer, whose doors are besieged by + parasites and his dinner-table by those who wear fine raiment and dwell in kings' + palaces. Del Ferice is the central figure in the great building syndicates which in + 1887 are at the height of their power. He juggles with millions of money, with miles + of real estate, with thousands of workmen. He is director of a bank, president of a + political club, chairman of half a dozen companies and a deputy in the chambers. But + his face is unnaturally pale, his body is over-corpulent, and he has trouble with his + heart. The Del Ferice couple are childless, to their own great satisfaction.</p> + <p>Anastase Gouache, the great painter, is also in Rome. Sixteen years ago he married + the love of his life, Faustina Montevarchi, in spite of the strong opposition of her + family. But times had changed. A new law existed and the thrice repeated formal + request for consent made by Faustina to her mother, freed her from parental authority + and brotherly interference. She and her husband passed through some very lean years + in the beginning, but fortune has smiled upon them since that. Anastase is very + famous. His character has changed little. With the love of the ideal republic in his + heart, he shed his blood at Mentana for the great conservative principle, he fired + his last shot for the same cause at the Porta Pia on the twentieth of September 1870; + a month later he was fighting for France under the gallant Charette—whether for + France imperial, regal or republican he never paused to ask; he was wounded in + fighting against the Commune, and decorated for painting the portrait of Gambetta, + after which he returned to Rome, cursed politics and married the woman he loved, + which was, on the whole, the wisest course he could have followed. He has two + children, both girls, aged now respectively fifteen and thirteen. His virtues are + many, but they do not include economy. Though his savings are small and he depends + upon his brush, he lives in one wing of an historic palace and gives dinners which + are famous. He proposes to reform and become a miser when his daughters are + married.</p> + <p>"Misery will be the foundation of my second manner, my angel," he says to his + wife, when he has done something unusually extravagant.</p> + <p>But Faustina laughs softly and winds her arm about his neck as they look together + at the last great picture. Anastase has not grown fat. The gods love him and have + promised him eternal youth. He can still buckle round his slim waist the military + belt of twenty years ago, and there is scarcely one white thread in his black + hair.</p> + <p>San Giacinto, the other Saracinesca, who married Faustina's elder sister Flavia, + is in process of making a great fortune, greater perhaps than the one so nearly + thrust upon him by old Montevarchi's compact with Meschini the librarian and forger. + He had scarcely troubled himself to conceal his opinions before the change of + government, being by nature a calm, fearless man, and under the new order he + unhesitatingly sided with the Italians, to the great satisfaction of Flavia, who + foresaw years of dulness for the mourning party of the Blacks. He had already brought + to Rome the two boys who remained to him from his first marriage with Serafina + Baldi—the little girl who had been born between the other two children had died + in infancy—and the lads had been educated at a military college, and in 1887 + are both officers in the Italian cavalry, sturdy and somewhat thick-skulled patriots, + but gentlemen nevertheless in spite of the peasant blood. They are tall fellows + enough but neither of them has inherited the father's colossal stature, and San + Giacinto looks with a very little envy on his young kinsman Orsino who has outgrown + his cousins. This second marriage has brought him issue, a boy and a girl, and the + fact that he has now four children to provide for has had much to do with his + activity in affairs. He was among the first to see that an enormous fortune was to be + made in the first rush for land in the city, and he realised all he possessed, and + borrowed to the full extent of his credit to pay the first instalments on the land he + bought, risking everything with the calm determination and cool judgment which lay at + the root of his strong character. He was immensely successful, but though he had been + bold to recklessness at the right moment, he saw the great crash looming in the near + future, and when the many were frantic to buy and invest, no matter at what loss, his + millions were in part safely deposited in national bonds, and in part as securely + invested in solid and profitable buildings of which the rents are little liable to + fluctuation. Brought up to know what money means, he is not easily carried away by + enthusiastic reports. He knows that when the hour of fortune is at hand no price is + too great to pay for ready capital, but he understands that when the great rush for + success begins the psychological moment of finance is already passed. When he dies, + if such strength as his can yield to death, he will die the richest man in Italy, and + he will leave what is rare in Italian finance, a stainless name.</p> + <p>Of one person more I must speak, who has played a part in this family history. The + melancholy Spicca still lives his lonely life in the midst of the social world. He + affects to be a little old-fashioned in his dress. His tall thin body stoops + ominously and his cadaverous face is more grave and ascetic than ever. He is said to + have been suffering from a mortal disease these fifteen years, but still he goes + everywhere, reads everything and knows every one. He is between sixty and seventy + years old, but no one knows his precise age. The foils he once used so well hang + untouched and rusty above his fireplace, but his reputation survives the lost + strength of his supple wrist, and there are few in Rome, brave men or hairbrained + youths, who would willingly anger him even now. He is still the great duellist of his + day; the emaciated fingers might still find their old grip upon a sword hilt, the + long, listless arm might perhaps once more shoot out with lightning speed, the dull + eye might once again light up at the clash of steel. Peaceable, charitable when none + are at hand to see him give, gravely gentle now in manner, Count Spicca is thought + dangerous still. But he is indeed very lonely in his old age, and if the truth be + told his fortune seems to have suffered sadly of late years, so that he rarely leaves + Rome, even in the hot summer, and it is very long since he spent six weeks in Paris + or risked a handful of gold at Monte Carlo. Yet his life is not over, and he has + still a part to play, for his own sake and for the sake of another, as shall soon + appear more clearly.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_II" name='CHAPTER_II'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER II.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino Saracinesca's education was almost completed. It had been of the modern + kind, for his father had early recognised that it would be a disadvantage to the + young man in after life if he did not follow the course of study and pass the + examinations required of every Italian subject who wishes to hold office in his own + country. Accordingly, though he had not been sent to public schools, Orsino had been + regularly entered since his childhood for the public examinations and had passed them + all in due order, with great difficulty and indifferent credit. After this + preliminary work he had been at an English University for four terms, not with any + view to his obtaining a degree after completing the necessary residence, but in order + that he might perfect himself in the English language, associate with young men of + his own age and social standing, though of different nationality, and acquire that + final polish which is so highly valued in the human furniture of society's + temples.</p> + <p>Orsino was not more highly gifted as to intelligence than many young men of his + age and class. Like many of them he spoke English admirably, French tolerably, and + Italian with a somewhat Roman twang. He had learned a little German and was rapidly + forgetting it again; Latin and Greek had been exhibited to him as dead languages, and + he felt no more inclination to assist in their resurrection than is felt by most boys + in our day. He had been taught geography in the practical, continental manner, by + being obliged to draw maps from memory. He had been instructed in history, not by + parallels, but as it were by tangents, a method productive of odd results, and he had + advanced just far enough in the study of mathematics to be thoroughly confused by the + terms "differentiation" and "integration." Besides these subjects, a multitude of + moral and natural sciences had been made to pass in a sort of panorama before his + intellectual vision, including physics, chemistry, logic, rhetoric, ethics and + political economy, with a view to cultivating in him the spirit of the age. The + Ministry of Public Instruction having decreed that the name of God shall be for ever + eliminated from all modern books in use in Italian schools and universities, Orsino's + religious instruction had been imparted at home and had at least the advantage of + being homogeneous.</p> + <p>It must not be supposed that Orsino's father and mother were satisfied with this + sort of education. But it was not easy to foresee what social and political changes + might come about before the boy reached mature manhood. Neither Giovanni nor his wife + were of the absolutely "intransigent" way of thinking. They saw no imperative reason + to prevent their sons from joining at some future time in the public life of their + country, though they themselves preferred not to associate with the party at present + in power. Moreover Giovanni Saracinesca saw that the abolition of primogeniture had + put an end to hereditary idleness, and that although his sons would be rich enough to + do nothing if they pleased, yet his grandchildren would probably have to choose + between work and genteel poverty, if it pleased the fates to multiply the race. He + could indeed leave one half of his wealth intact to Orsino, but the law required that + the other half should be equally divided among all; and as the same thing would take + place in the second generation, unless a reactionary revolution intervened, the + property would before long be divided into very small moieties indeed. For Giovanni + had no idea of imposing celibacy upon his younger sons, still less of exerting any + influence he possessed to make them enter the Church. He was too broad in his views + for that. They promised to turn out as good men in a struggle as the majority of + those who would be opposed to them in life, and they should fight their own battles + unhampered by parental authority or caste prejudice.</p> + <p>Many years earlier Giovanni had expressed his convictions in regard to the change + of order then imminent. He had said that he would fight as long as there was anything + to fight for, but that if the change came he would make the best of it. He was now + keeping his word. He had fought as far as fighting had been possible and had + sincerely wished that his warlike career might have offered more excitement and + opportunity for personal distinction than had been afforded him in spending an + afternoon on horseback, listening to the singing of bullets overhead. His amateur + soldiering was over long ago, but he was strong, brave and intelligent, and if he had + been convinced that a second and more radical revolution could accomplish any good + result, he would have been capable of devoting himself to its cause with a + single-heartedness not usual in these days. But he was not convinced. He therefore + lived a quiet life, making the best of the present, improving his lands and doing his + best to bring up his sons in such a way as to give them a chance of success when the + struggle should come. Orsino was his eldest born and the results of modern education + became apparent in him first, as was inevitable.</p> + <p>Orsino was at this time not quite twenty-one years of age, but the important day + was not far distant and in order to leave a lasting memorial of the attaining of his + majority Prince Saracinesca had decreed that Corona should receive a portrait of her + eldest son executed by the celebrated Anastase Gouache. To this end the young man + spent three mornings in every week in the artist's palatial studio, a place about as + different from the latter's first den in the Via San Basilio as the Basilica of Saint + Peter is different from a roadside chapel in the Abruzzi. Those who have seen the + successful painter of the nineteenth century in his glory will have less difficulty + in imagining the scene of Gouache's labours than the writer finds in describing it. + The workroom is a hall, the ceiling is a vault thirty feet high, the pavement is of + polished marble; the light enters by north windows which would not look small in a + good-sized church, the doors would admit a carriage and pair, the tapestries upon the + walls would cover the front of a modern house. Everything is on a grand scale, of the + best period, of the most genuine description. Three or four originals of great + masters, of Titian, of Reubens, of Van Dyck, stand on huge easels in the most + favourable lights. Some scores of matchless antique fragments, both of bronze and + marble, are placed here and there upon superb carved tables and shelves of the + sixteenth century. The only reproduction visible in the place is a very perfect cast + of the Hermes of Olympia. The carpets are all of Shiraz, Sinna, Gjordez or old + Baku—no common thing of Smyrna, no unclean aniline production of Russo-Asiatic + commerce disturbs the universal harmony. In a full light upon the wall hangs a single + silk carpet of wonderful tints, famous in the history of Eastern collections, and + upon it is set at a slanting angle a single priceless Damascus blade—a sword to + possess which an Arab or a Circassian would commit countless crimes. Anastase Gouache + is magnificent in all his tastes and in all his ways. His studio and his dwelling are + his only estate, his only capital, his only wealth, and he does not take the trouble + to conceal the fact. The very idea of a fixed income is as distasteful to him as the + possibility of possessing it is distant and visionary. There is always money in + abundance, money for Faustina's horses and carriages, money for Gouache's select + dinners, money for the expensive fancies of both. The paint pot is the mine, the + brush is the miner's pick, and the vein has never failed, nor the hand trembled in + working it. A golden youth, a golden river flowing softly to the red gold sunset of + the end—that is life as it seems to Anastase and Faustina.</p> + <p>On the morning which opens this chronicle, Anastase was standing before his + canvas, palette and brushes in hand, considering the nature of the human face in + general and of young Orsino's face in particular.</p> + <p>"I have known your father and mother for centuries," observed the painter with a + fine disregard of human limitations. "Your father is the brown type of a dark man, + and your mother is the olive type of a dark woman. They are no more alike than a Red + Indian and an Arab, but you are like both. Are you brown or are you olive, my friend? + That is the question. I would like to see you angry, or in love, or losing at play. + Those things bring out the real complexion."</p> + <p>Orsino laughed and showed a remarkably solid set of teeth. But he did not find + anything to say.</p> + <p>"I would like to know the truth about your complexion," said Anastase, + meditatively.</p> + <p>"I have no particular reason for being angry," answered Orsino, "and I am not in + love—"</p> + <p>"At your age! Is it possible!"</p> + <p>"Quite. But I will play cards with you if you like," concluded the young man.</p> + <p>"No," returned the other. "It would be of no use. You would win, and if you + happened to win much, I should be in a diabolical scrape. But I wish you would fall + in love. You should see how I would handle the green shadows under your eyes."</p> + <p>"It is rather short notice."</p> + <p>"The shorter the better. I used to think that the only real happiness in life lay + in getting into trouble, and the only real interest in getting out."</p> + <p>"And have you changed your mind?"</p> + <p>"I? No. My mind has changed me. It is astonishing how a man may love his wife + under favourable circumstances."</p> + <p>Anastase laid down his brushes and lit a cigarette. Reubens would have sipped a + few drops of Rhenish from a Venetian glass. Teniers would have lit a clay pipe. + Dürer would perhaps have swallowed a pint of Nüremberg beer, and Greuse or + Mignard would have resorted to their snuff-boxes. We do not know what Michelangelo or + Perugino did under the circumstances, but it is tolerably evident that the man of the + nineteenth century cannot think without talking and cannot talk without cigarettes. + Therefore Anastase began to smoke and Orsino, being young and imitative, followed his + example.</p> + <p>"You have been an exceptionally fortunate man," remarked the latter, who was not + old enough to be anything but cynical in his views of life.</p> + <p>"Do you think so? Yes—I have been fortunate. But I do not like to think that + my happiness has been so very exceptional. The world is a good place, full of happy + people. It must be—otherwise purgatory and hell would be useless + institutions."</p> + <p>"You do not suppose all people to be good as well as happy then," said Orsino with + a laugh.</p> + <p>"Good? What is goodness, my friend? One half of the theologians tell us that we + shall be happy if we are good and the other half assure us that the only way to be + good is to abjure earthly happiness. If you will believe me, you will never commit + the supreme error of choosing between the two methods. Take the world as it is, and + do not ask too many questions of the fates. If you are willing to be happy, happiness + will come in its own shape."</p> + <p>Orsino's young face expressed rather contemptuous amusement. At twenty, happiness + is a dull word, and satisfaction spells excitement.</p> + <p>"That is the way people talk," he said. "You have got everything by fighting for + it, and you advise me to sit still till the fruit drops into my mouth."</p> + <p>"I was obliged to fight. Everything comes to you naturally—fortune, + rank—everything, including marriage. Why should you lift a hand?"</p> + <p>"A man cannot possibly be happy who marries before he is thirty years old," + answered Orsino with conviction. "How do you expect me to occupy myself during the + next ten years?"</p> + <p>"That is true," Gouache replied, somewhat thoughtfully, as though the + consideration had not struck him.</p> + <p>"If I were an artist, it would be different."</p> + <p>"Oh, very different. I agree with you." Anastase smiled good-humouredly.</p> + <p>"Because I should have talent—and a talent is an occupation in itself."</p> + <p>"I daresay you would have talent," Gouache answered, still laughing.</p> + <p>"No—I did not mean it in that way—I mean that when a man has a talent + it makes him think of something besides himself."</p> + <p>"I fancy there is more truth in that remark than either you or I would at first + think," said the painter in a meditative tone.</p> + <p>"Of course there is," returned the youthful philosopher, with more enthusiasm than + he would have cared to show if he had been talking to a woman. "What is talent but a + combination of the desire to do and the power to accomplish? As for genius, it is + never selfish when it is at work."</p> + <p>"Is that reflection your own?"</p> + <p>"I think so," answered Orsino modestly. He was secretly pleased that a man of the + artist's experience and reputation should be struck by his remark.</p> + <p>"I do not think I agree with you," said Gouache.</p> + <p>Orsino's expression changed a little. He was disappointed, but he said + nothing.</p> + <p>"I think that a great genius is often ruthless. Do you remember how Beethoven + congratulated a young composer after the first performance of his opera? 'I like your + opera—I will write music to it.' That was a fine instance of unselfishness, was + it not. I can see the young man's face—" Anastase smiled.</p> + <p>"Beethoven was not at work when he made the remark," observed Orsino, defending + himself.</p> + <p>"Nor am I," said Gouache, taking up his brushes again. "If you will resume the + pose—so—thoughtful but bold—imagine that you are already an + ancestor contemplating posterity from the height of a nobler age—you + understand. Try and look as if you were already framed and hanging in the Saracinesca + gallery between a Titian and a Giorgione."</p> + <p>Orsino resumed his position and scowled at Anastase with a good will.</p> + <p>"Not quite such a terrible frown, perhaps," suggested the latter. "When you do + that, you certainly look like the gentleman who murdered the Colonna in a street + brawl—I forget how long ago. You have his portrait. But I fancy the Princess + would prefer—yes—that is more natural. You have her eyes. How the world + raved about her twenty years ago—and raves still, for that matter."</p> + <p>"She is the most beautiful woman in the world," said Orsino. There was something + in the boy's unaffected admiration of his mother which contrasted pleasantly with his + youthful affectation of cynicism and indifference. His handsome face lighted up a + little, and the painter worked rapidly.</p> + <p>But the expression was not lasting. Orsino was at the age when most young men take + the trouble to cultivate a manner, and the look of somewhat contemptuous gravity + which he had lately acquired was already becoming habitual. Since all men in general + have adopted the fashion of the mustache, youths who are still waiting for the full + crop seem to have difficulty in managing their mouths. Some draw in their lips with + that air of unnatural sternness observable in rough weather among passengers on board + ship, just before they relinquish the struggle and retire from public life. Others + contract their mouths to the shape of a heart, while there are yet others who lose + control of the pendant lower lip and are content to look like idiots, while expecting + the hairy growth which is to make them look like men. Orsino had chosen the least + objectionable idiosyncrasy and had elected to be of a stern countenance. When he + forgot himself he was singularly handsome, and Gouache lay in wait for his moments of + forgetfulness.</p> + <p>"You are quite right," said the Frenchman. "From the classic point of view your + mother was and is the most beautiful dark woman in the world. For myself—well + in the first place, you are her son, and secondly I am an artist and not a critic. + The painter's tongue is his brush and his words are colours."</p> + <p>"What were you going to say about my mother?" asked Orsino with some + curiosity.</p> + <p>"Oh—nothing. Well, if you must hear it, the Princess represents my classical + ideal, but not my personal ideal. I have admired some one else more."</p> + <p>"Donna Faustina?" enquired Orsino.</p> + <p>"Ah well, my friend—she is my wife, you see. That always makes a great + difference in the degree of admiration—"</p> + <p>"Generally in the opposite direction," Orsino observed in a tone of elderly + unbelief.</p> + <p>Gouache had just put his brush into his mouth and held it between his teeth as a + poodle carries a stick, while he used his thumb on the canvas. The modern painter + paints with everything, not excepting his fingers. He glanced at his model and then + at his work, and got his effect before he answered.</p> + <p>"You are very hard upon marriage," he said quietly. "Have you tried it?"</p> + <p>"Not yet. I will wait as long as possible, before I do. It is not every one who + has your luck."</p> + <p>"There was something more than luck in my marriage. We loved each other, it is + true, but there were difficulties—you have no idea what difficulties there + were. But Faustina was brave and I caught a little courage from her. Do you know that + when the Serristori barracks were blown up she ran out alone to find me merely + because she thought I might have been killed? I found her in the ruins, praying for + me. It was sublime."</p> + <p>"I have heard that. She was very brave—"</p> + <p>"And I a poor Zouave—and a poorer painter. Are there such women nowadays? + Bah! I have not known them. We used to meet at churches and exchange two words while + her maid was gone to get her a chair. Oh, the good old time! And then the + separations—the taking of Rome, when the old Princess carried all the family + off to England and stayed there while we were fighting for poor France—and the + coming back and the months of waiting, and the notes dropped from her window at + midnight and the great quarrel with her family when we took advantage of the new law. + And then the marriage itself—what a scandal in Rome! But for the Princess, your + mother, I do not know what we should have done. She brought Faustina to the church + and drove us to the station in her own carriage—in the face of society. They + say that Ascanio Bellegra hung about the door of the church while we were being + married, but he had not the courage to come in, for fear of his mother. We went to + Naples and lived on salad and love—and we had very little else for a year or + two. I was not much known, then, except in Rome, and Roman society refused to have + its portrait painted by the adventurer who had run away with a daughter of Casa + Montevarchi. Perhaps, if we had been rich, we should have hated each other by this + time. But we had to live for each other in those days, for every one was against us. + I painted, and she kept house—that English blood is always practical in a + desert. And it was a desert. The cooking—it would have made a billiard ball's + hair stand on end with astonishment. She made the salad, and then evolved the roast + from the inner consciousness. I painted a chaudfroid on an old plate. It was well + done—the transparent quality of the jelly and the delicate ortolans imprisoned + within, imploring dissection. Well, must I tell you? We threw it away. It was + martyrdom. Saint Anthony's position was enviable compared with ours. Beside us that + good man would have seemed but a humbug. Yet we lived through it all. I repeat it. We + lived, and we were happy. It is amazing, how a man may love his wife."</p> + <p>Anastase had told his story with many pauses, working hard while he spoke, for + though he was quite in earnest in all he said, his chief object was to distract the + young man's attention, so as to bring out his natural expression. Having exhausted + one of the colours he needed, he drew back and contemplated his work. Orsino seemed + lost in thought.</p> + <p>"What are you thinking about?" asked the painter.</p> + <p>"Do you think I am too old to become an artist?" enquired the young man.</p> + <p>"You? Who knows? But the times are too old. It is the same thing."</p> + <p>"I do not understand."</p> + <p>"You are in love with the life—not with the profession. But the life is not + the same now, nor the art either. Bah! In a few years I shall be out of fashion. I + know it. Then we will go back to first principles. A garret to live in, bread and + salad for dinner. Of course—what do you expect? That need not prevent us from + living in a palace as long as we can."</p> + <p>Thereupon Anastase Gouache hummed a very lively little song as he squeezed a few + colours from the tubes. Orsino's face betrayed his discontentment.</p> + <p>"I was not in earnest," he said. "At least, not as to becoming an artist. I only + asked the question to be sure that you would answer it just as everybody answers all + questions of the kind—by discouraging my wish do anything for myself."</p> + <p>"Why should you do anything? You are so rich!"</p> + <p>"What everybody says! Do you know what we rich men, or we men who are to be rich, + are expected to be? Farmers. It is not gay."</p> + <p>"It would be my dream—pastoral, you know—Normandy cows, a river with + reeds, perpetual Angelus, bread and milk for supper. I adore milk. A nymph here and + there—at your age, it is permitted. My dear friend, why not be a farmer?"</p> + <p>Orsino laughed a little, in spite of himself.</p> + <p>"I suppose that is an artist's idea of farming."</p> + <p>"As near the truth as a farmer's idea of art, I daresay," retorted Gouache.</p> + <p>"We see you paint, but you never see us at work. That is the difference—but + that is not the question. Whatever I propose, I get the same answer. I imagine you + will permit me to dislike farming as a profession."</p> + <p>"For the sake of argument, only," said Gouache gravely.</p> + <p>"Good. For the sake of argument. We will suppose that I am myself in all respects + what I am, excepting that I am never to have any land, and only enough money to buy + cigarettes. I say, 'Let me take a profession. Let me be a soldier.' Every one rises + up and protests against the idea of a Saracinesca serving in the Italian army. Why? + Remember that your father was a volunteer officer under Pope Pius Ninth.' It is + comic. He spent an afternoon on the Pincio for his convictions, and then retired into + private life. 'Let me serve in a foreign army—France, Austria, Russia, I do not + care.' They are more horrified than ever. 'You have not a spark of patriotism! To + serve a foreign power! How dreadful! And as for the Russians, they are all heretics.' + Perhaps they are. I will try diplomacy. 'What? Sacrifice your convictions? Become the + blind instrument of a scheming, dishonest ministry? It is unworthy of a Saracinesca!' + I will think no more about it. Let me be a lawyer and enter public life. 'A lawyer + indeed! Will you wrangle in public with notaries' sons, defend murderers and + burglars, and take fees like the old men who write letters for the peasants under a, + green umbrella in the street? It would be almost better to turn musician and give + concerts.' 'The Church, perhaps?' I suggest. 'The Church? Are you not the heir, and + will you not be the head of the family some day? You must be mad.' 'Then give me a + sum of money and let me try my luck with my cousin San Giacinto.' 'Business? If you + make money it is a degradation, and with these new laws you cannot afford to lose it. + Besides, you will have enough of business when you have to manage your estates.' So + all my questions are answered, and I am condemned at twenty to be a farmer for my + natural life. I say so. 'A farmer, forsooth! Have you not the world before you? Have + you not received the most liberal education? Are you not rich? How can you take such + a narrow view! Come out to the Villa and look at those young thoroughbreds, and + afterwards we will drop in at the club before dinner. Then there is that reception at + the old Principessa Befana's to-night, and the Duchessa della Seccatura is also at + home.' That is my life, Monsieur Gouache. There you have the question, the answer and + the result. Admit that it is not gay."</p> + <p>"It is very serious, on the contrary," answered Gouache who had listened to the + detached Jeremiah with more curiosity and interest than he often shewed.</p> + <p>"I see nothing for it, but for you to fall in love without losing a single + moment."</p> + <p>Orsino laughed a little harshly.</p> + <p>"I am in the humour, I assure you," he answered.</p> + <p>"Well, then—what are you waiting for?" enquired Gouache, looking at him.</p> + <p>"What for? For an object for my affections, of course. That is rather necessary + under the circumstances."</p> + <p>"You may not wait long, if you will consent to stay here another quarter of an + hour," said Anastase with a laugh. "A lady is coming, whose portrait I am + painting—an interesting woman—tolerably beautiful—rather + mysterious—here she is, you can have a good look at her, before you make up + your mind."</p> + <p>Anastase took the half-finished portrait of Orsino from the easel and put another + in its place, considerably further advanced in execution. Orsino lit a cigarette in + order to quicken his judgment, and looked at the canvas.</p> + <p>The picture was decidedly striking and one felt at once that it must be a good + likeness. Gouache was evidently proud of it. It represented a woman, who was + certainly not yet thirty years of age, in full dress, seated in a high, carved chair + against a warm, dark background. A mantle of some sort of heavy, claret-coloured + brocade, lined with fur, was draped across one of the beautiful shoulders, leaving + the other bare, the scant dress of the period scarcely breaking the graceful lines + from the throat to the soft white hand, of which the pointed fingers hung carelessly + over the carved extremity of the arm of the chair. The lady's hair was auburn, her + eyes distinctly yellow. The face was an unusual one and not without attraction, very + pale, with a full red mouth too wide for perfect beauty, but well + modelled—almost too well, Gouache thought. The nose was of no distinct type, + and was the least significant feature in the face, but the forehead was broad and + massive, the chin soft, prominent and round, the brows much arched and divided by a + vertical shadow which, in the original, might be the first indication of a tiny + wrinkle. Orsino fancied that one eye or the other wandered a very little, but he + could not tell which—the slight defect made the glance disquieting and yet + attractive. Altogether it was one of those faces which to one man say too little, and + to another too much.</p> + <p>Orsino affected to gaze upon the portrait with unconcern, but in reality he was + oddly fascinated by it, and Gouache did not fail to see the truth.</p> + <p>"You had better go away, my friend," he said, with a smile. "She will be here in a + few minutes and you will certainly lose your heart if you see her."</p> + <p>"What is her name?" asked Orsino, paying no attention to the remark.</p> + <p>"Donna Maria Consuelo—something or other—a string of names ending in + Aragona. I call her Madame d'Aragona for shortness, and she does not seem to + object."</p> + <p>"Married? And Spanish?"</p> + <p>"I suppose so," answered Gouache. "A widow I believe. She is not Italian and not + French, so she must be Spanish."</p> + <p>"The name does not say much. Many people put 'd'Aragona' after their + names—some cousins of ours, among others—they are Aranjuez + d'Aragona—my father's mother was of that family."</p> + <p>"I think that is the name—Aranjuez. Indeed I am sure of it, for Faustina + remarked that she might be related to you."</p> + <p>"It is odd. We have not heard of her being in Rome—and I am not sure who she + is. Has she been here long?"</p> + <p>"I have known her a month—since she first came to my studio. She lives in a + hotel, and she comes alone, except when I need the dress and then she brings her + maid, an odd creature who never speaks and seems to understand no known + language."</p> + <p>"It is an interesting face. Do you mind if I stay till she comes? We may really be + cousins, you know."</p> + <p>"By all means—you can ask her. The relationship would be with her husband, I + suppose."</p> + <p>"True. I had not thought of that; and he is dead, you say?"</p> + <p>Gouache did not answer, for at that moment the lady's footfall was heard upon the + marble floor, soft, quick and decided. She paused a moment in the middle of the room + when she saw that the artist was not alone. He went forward to meet her and asked + leave to present Orsino, with that polite indistinctness which leaves to the persons + introduced the task of discovering one another's names.</p> + <p>Orsino looked into the lady's eyes and saw that the slight peculiarity of the + glance was real and not due to any error of Gouache's drawing. He recognised each + feature in turn in the one look he gave at the face before he bowed, and he saw that + the portrait was indeed very good. He was not subject to shyness.</p> + <p>"We should be cousins, Madame," he said. "My father's mother was an Aranjuez + d'Aragona."</p> + <p>"Indeed?" said the lady with calm indifference, looking critically at the picture + of herself.</p> + <p>"I am Orsino Saracinesca," said the young man, watching her with some + admiration.</p> + <p>"Indeed?" she repeated, a shade less coldly. "I think I have heard my poor husband + say that he was connected with your family. What do you think of my portrait? Every + one has tried to paint me and failed, but my friend Monsieur Gouache is succeeding. + He has reproduced my hideous nose and my dreadful mouth with a masterly exactness. + No—my dear Monsieur Gouache—it is a compliment I pay you. I am in + earnest. I do not want a portrait of the Venus of Milo with red hair, nor of the + Minerva Medica with yellow eyes, nor of an imaginary Medea in a fur cloak. I want + myself, just as I am. That is exactly what you are doing for me. Myself and I have + lived so long together that I desire a little memento of the acquaintance."</p> + <p>"You can afford to speak lightly of what is so precious to others," said Gouache, + gallantly. Madame d'Aranjuez sank into the carved chair Orsino had occupied.</p> + <p>"This dear Gouache—he is charming, is he not?" she said with a little laugh. + Orsino looked at her.</p> + <p>"Gouache is right," he thought, with the assurance of his years. "It would be + amusing to fall in love with her."</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_III" name='CHAPTER_III'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER III.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Gouache was far more interested in his work than in the opinions which his two + visitors might entertain of each other. He looked at the lady fixedly, moved his + easel, raised the picture a few inches higher from the ground and looked again. + Orsino watched the proceedings from a little distance, debating whether he should go + away or remain. Much depended upon Madame d'Aragona's character, he thought, and of + this he knew nothing. Some women are attracted by indifference, and to go away would + be to show a disinclination to press the acquaintance. Others, he reflected, prefer + the assurance of the man who always stays, even without an invitation, rather than + lose his chance. On the other hand a sitting in a studio is not exactly like a + meeting in a drawing-room. The painter has a sort of traditional, exclusive right to + his sitter's sole attention. The sitter, too, if a woman, enjoys the privilege of + sacrificing one-half her good looks in a bad light, to favour the other side which is + presented to the artist's view, and the third person, if there be one, has a + provoking habit of so placing himself as to receive the least flattering impression. + Hence the great unpopularity of the third person—or "the third inconvenience," + as the Romans call him.</p> + <p>Orsino stood still for a few moments, wondering whether either of the two would + ask him to sit down. As they did not, he was annoyed with them and determined to + stay, if only for five minutes. He took up his position, in a deep seat under the + high window, and watched Madame d'Aragona's profile. Neither she nor Gouache made any + remark. Gouache began to brush over the face of his picture. Orsino felt that the + silence was becoming awkward. He began to regret that he had remained, for he + discovered from his present position that the lady's nose was indeed her defective + feature.</p> + <p>"You do not mind my staying a few minutes?" he said, with a vague + interrogation.</p> + <p>"Ask Madame, rather," answered Gouache, brushing away in a lively manner. Madame + said nothing, and seemed not to have heard.</p> + <p>"Am I indiscreet?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"How? No. Why should you not remain? Only, if you please, sit where I can see you. + Thanks. I do not like to feel that some one is looking at me and that I cannot look + at him, if I please—and as for me, I am nailed in my position. How can I turn + my head? Gouache is very severe."</p> + <p>"You may have heard, Madame, that a beautiful woman is most beautiful in repose," + said Gouache.</p> + <p>Orsino was annoyed, for he had of course wished to make exactly the same remark. + But they were talking in French, and the Frenchman had the advantage of speed.</p> + <p>"And how about an ugly woman?" asked Madame d'Aragona.</p> + <p>"Motion is most becoming to her—rapid motion—the door," answered the + artist.</p> + <p>Orsino had changed his position and was standing behind Gouache.</p> + <p>"I wish you would sit down," said the latter, after a short pause. "I do not like + to feel that any one is standing behind me when I am at work. It is a weakness, but I + cannot help it. Do you believe in mental suggestion, Madame?"</p> + <p>"What is that?" asked Madame d'Aragona vaguely.</p> + <p>"I always imagine that a person standing behind me when I am at work is making me + see everything as he sees," answered Gouache, not attempting to answer the + question.</p> + <p>Orsino, driven from pillar to post, had again moved away.</p> + <p>"And do you believe in such absurd superstitions?" enquired Madame d'Aragona with + a contemptuous curl of her heavy lips. "Monsieur de Saracinesca, will you not sit + down? You make me a little nervous."</p> + <p>Gouache raised his finely marked eyebrows almost imperceptibly at the odd form of + address, which betrayed ignorance either of worldly usage or else of Orsino's + individuality. He stepped back from the canvas and moved a chair forward.</p> + <p>"Sit here, Prince," he said. "Madame can see you, and you will not be behind + me."</p> + <p>Orsino took the proffered seat without any remark. Madame d'Aragona's expression + did not change, though she was perfectly well aware that Gouache had intended to + correct her manner of addressing the young man. The latter was slightly annoyed. What + difference could it make? It was tactless of Gouache, he thought, for the lady might + be angry.</p> + <p>"Are you spending the winter in Rome, Madame?" he asked. He was conscious that the + question lacked originality, but no other presented itself to him.</p> + <p>"The winter?" repeated Madame d'Aragona dreamily. "Who knows? I am here at + present, at the mercy of the great painter. That is all I know. Shall I be here next + month, next week? I cannot tell. I know no one. I have never been here before. It is + dull. This was my object," she added, after a short pause. "When it is accomplished I + will consider other matters. I may be obliged to accompany their Royal Highnesses to + Egypt in January. That is next month, is it not?"</p> + <p>It was so very far from clear who the royal highnesses in question might be, that + Orsino glanced at Gouache, to see whether he understood. But Gouache was + imperturbable.</p> + <p>"January, Madame, follows December," he answered. "The fact is confirmed by the + observations of many centuries. Even in my own experience it has occurred forty-seven + times in succession."</p> + <p>Orsino laughed a little, and as Madame d'Aragona's eyes met his, the red lips + smiled, without parting.</p> + <p>"He is always laughing at me," she said pleasantly.</p> + <p>Gouache was painting with great alacrity. The smile was becoming to her and he + caught it as it passed. It must be allowed that she permitted it to linger, as though + she understood his wish, but as she was looking at Orsino, he was pleased.</p> + <p>"If you will permit me to say it, Madame," he observed, "I have never seen eyes + like yours."</p> + <p>He endeavoured to lose himself in their depths as he spoke. Madame d'Aragona was + not in the least annoyed by the remark, nor by the look.</p> + <p>"What is there so very unusual about my eyes?" she enquired. The smile grew a + little more faint and thoughtful but did not disappear.</p> + <p>"In the first place, I have never seen eyes of a golden-yellow colour."</p> + <p>"Tigers have yellow eyes," observed Madame d'Aragona.</p> + <p>"My acquaintance with that animal is at second hand—slight, to say the + least."</p> + <p>"You have never shot one?"</p> + <p>"Never, Madame. They do not abound in Rome—nor even, I believe, in Albano. + My father killed one when he was a young man."</p> + <p>"Prince Saracinesca?"</p> + <p>"Sant' Ilario. My grandfather is still alive."</p> + <p>"How splendid! I adore strong races."</p> + <p>"It is very interesting," observed Gouache, poking the stick of a brush into the + eye of his picture. "I have painted three generations of the family, I who speak to + you, and I hope to paint the fourth if Don Orsino here can be cured of his cynicism + and induced to marry Donna—what is her name?" He turned to the young man.</p> + <p>"She has none—and she is likely to remain nameless," answered Orsino + gloomily.</p> + <p>"We will call her Donna Ignota," suggested Madame d'Aragona.</p> + <p>"And build altars to the unknown love," added Gouache.</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona smiled faintly, but Orsino persisted in looking grave.</p> + <p>"It seems to be an unpleasant subject, Prince."</p> + <p>"Very unpleasant, Madame," answered Orsino shortly.</p> + <p>Thereupon Madame d'Aragona looked at Gouache and raised her brows a little as + though to ask a question, knowing perfectly well that Orsino was watching her. The + young man could not see the painter's eyes, and the latter did not betray by any + gesture that he was answering the silent interrogation.</p> + <p>"Then I have eyes like a tiger, you say. You frighten me. How + disagreeable—to look like a wild beast!"</p> + <p>"It is a prejudice," returned Orsino. "One hears people say of a woman that she is + beautiful as a tigress."</p> + <p>"An idea!" exclaimed Gouache, interrupting. "Shall I change the damask cloak to a + tiger's skin? One claw just hanging over the white shoulder—Omphale, you + know—in a modern drawing-room—a small cast of the Farnese Hercules upon a + bracket, there, on the right. Decidedly, here is an idea. Do you permit, Madame!"</p> + <p>"Anything you like—only do not spoil the likeness," answered Madame + d'Aragona, leaning back in her chair, and looking sleepily at Orsino from beneath her + heavy, half-closed lids.</p> + <p>"You will spoil the whole picture," said Orsino, rather anxiously.</p> + <p>Gouache laughed.</p> + <p>"What harm if I do? I can restore it in five minutes—"</p> + <p>"Five minutes!"</p> + <p>"An hour, if you insist upon accuracy of statement," replied Gouache with a shade + of annoyance.</p> + <p>He had an idea, and like most people whom fate occasionally favours with that rare + commodity he did not like to be disturbed in the realisation of it. He was already + squeezing out quantities of tawny colours upon his palette.</p> + <p>"I am a passive instrument," said Madame d'Aragona. "He does what he pleases. + These men of genius—what would you have? Yesterday a gown from + Worth—to-day a tiger's skin—indeed, I tremble for to-morrow."</p> + <p>She laughed a little and turned her head away.</p> + <p>"You need not fear," answered Gouache, daubing in his new idea with an enormous + brush. "Fashions change. Woman endures. Beauty is eternal. There is nothing which may + not be made becoming to a beautiful woman."</p> + <p>"My dear Gouache, you are insufferable. You are always telling me that I am + beautiful. Look at my nose."</p> + <p>"Yes. I am looking at it."</p> + <p>"And my mouth."</p> + <p>"I look. I see. I admire. Have you any other personal observations to make? How + many claws has a tiger, Don Orsino? Quick! I am painting the thing."</p> + <p>"One less than a woman."</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona looked at the young man a moment, and broke into a laugh.</p> + <p>"There is a charming speech. I like that better than Gouache's flattery."</p> + <p>"And yet you admit that the portrait is like you," said Gouache.</p> + <p>"Perhaps I flatter you, too."</p> + <p>"Ah! I had not thought of that."</p> + <p>"You should be more modest."</p> + <p>"I lose myself—"</p> + <p>"Where?"</p> + <p>"In your eyes, Madame. One, two, three, four—are you sure a tiger has only + four claws? Where is the creature's thumb—what do you call it? It looks + awkward."</p> + <p>"The dew-claw?" asked Orsino. "It is higher up, behind the paw. You would hardly + see it in the skin."</p> + <p>"But a cat has five claws," said Madame d'Aragona. "Is not a tiger a cat? We must + have the thing right, you know, if it is to be done at all."</p> + <p>"Has a cat five claws?" asked Anastase, appealing anxiously to Orsino.</p> + <p>"Of course, but you would only see four on the skin."</p> + <p>"I insist upon knowing," said Madame d'Aragona. "This is dreadful! Has no one got + a tiger? What sort of studio is this—with no tiger!"</p> + <p>"I am not Sarah Bernhardt, nor the emperor of Siam," observed Gouache, with a + laugh.</p> + <p>But Madame d'Aragona was not satisfied.</p> + <p>"I am sure you could procure me one, Prince," she said, turning to Orsino. "I am + sure you could, if you would! I shall cry if I do not have one, and it will be your + fault."</p> + <p>"Would you like the animal alive or dead?" inquired Orsino gravely, and he rose + from his seat.</p> + <p>"Ah, I knew you could procure the thing!" she exclaimed with grateful enthusiasm. + "Alive or dead, Gouache? Quick—decide!"</p> + <p>"As you please, Madame. If you decide to have him alive, I will ask permission to + exchange a few words with my wife and children, while some one goes for a + priest."</p> + <p>"You are sublime, to-day. Dead, then, if you please, Prince. Quite dead—but + do not say that I was afraid—"</p> + <p>"Afraid? With, a Saracinesca and a Gouache to defend your life, Madame? You are + not serious."</p> + <p>Orsino took his hat.</p> + <p>"I shall be back in a quarter of an hour," he said, as he bowed and went out.</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona watched his tall young figure till he disappeared.</p> + <p>"He does not lack spirit, your young friend," she observed.</p> + <p>"No member of that family ever did, I think," Gouache answered. "They are a + remarkable race."</p> + <p>"And he is the only son?"</p> + <p>"Oh no! He has three younger brothers."</p> + <p>"Poor fellow! I suppose the fortune is not very large."</p> + <p>"I have no means of knowing," replied Gouache indifferently. "Their palace is + historic. Their equipages are magnificent. That is all that foreigners see of Roman + families."</p> + <p>"But you know them intimately?"</p> + <p>"Intimately—that is saying too much. I have painted their portraits."</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona wondered why he was so reticent, for she knew that he had himself + married the daughter of a Roman prince, and she concluded that he must know much of + the Romans.</p> + <p>"Do you think he will bring the tiger?" she asked presently.</p> + <p>"He is quite capable of bringing a whole menagerie of tigers for you to choose + from."</p> + <p>"How interesting. I like men who stop at nothing. It was really unpardonable of + you to suggest the idea and then to tell me calmly that you had no model for it."</p> + <p>In the meantime Orsino had descended the stairs and was hailing a passing cab. He + debated for a moment what he should do. It chanced that at that time there was + actually a collection of wild beasts to be seen in the Prati di Castello, and Orsino + supposed that the owner might be induced, for a large consideration, to part with one + of his tigers. He even imagined that he might shoot the beast and bring it back in + the cab. But, in the first place, he was not provided with an adequate sum of money + nor did he know exactly how to lay his hand on so large a sum as might be necessary, + at a moment's notice. He was still under age, and his allowance had not been + calculated with a view to his buying menageries. Moreover he considered that even if + his pockets had been full of bank notes, the idea was ridiculous, and he was rather + ashamed of his youthful impulse. It occurred to him that what was necessary for the + picture was not the carcase of the tiger but the skin, and he remembered that such a + skin lay on the floor in his father's private room—the spoil of the animal + Giovanni Saracinesca had shot in his youth. It had been well cared for and was a fine + specimen.</p> + <p>"Palazzo Saracinesca," he said to the cabman.</p> + <p>Now it chanced, as such things will chance in the inscrutable ways of fate, that + Sant' Ilario was just then in that very room and busy with his correspondence. Orsino + had hoped to carry off what he wanted, without being questioned, in order to save + time, but he now found himself obliged to explain his errand.</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario looked, up in some surprise as his son entered.</p> + <p>"Well, Orsino? Is anything the matter?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Nothing serious, father. I want to borrow your tiger's skin for Gouache. Will you + lend it to me?"</p> + <p>"Of course. But what in the world does Gouache want of it? Is he painting you in + skins—the primeval youth of the forest?"</p> + <p>"No—not exactly. The fact is, there is a lady there. Gouache talks of + painting her as a modern Omphale, with a tiger's skin and a cast of Hercules in the + background—"</p> + <p>"Hercules wore a lion's skin—not a tiger's. He killed the Nemean lion."</p> + <p>"Did he?" inquired Orsino indifferently. "It is all the same—they do not + know it, and they want a tiger. When I left they were debating whether they wanted it + alive or dead. I thought of buying one at the Prati di Castello, but it seemed + cheaper to borrow the skin of you. May I take it?"</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario laughed. Orsino rolled up the great hide and carried it to the + door.</p> + <p>"Who is the lady, my boy?"</p> + <p>"I never saw her before—a certain Donna Maria d'Aranjuez d'Aragona. I fancy + she must be a kind of cousin. Do you know anything about her?"</p> + <p>"I never heard of such a person. Is that her own name?"</p> + <p>"No—she seems to be somebody's widow."</p> + <p>"That is definite. What is she like?"</p> + <p>"Passably handsome—yellow eyes, reddish hair, one eye wanders."</p> + <p>"What an awful picture! Do not fall in love with her, Orsino."</p> + <p>"No fear of that—but she is amusing, and she wants the tiger."</p> + <p>"You seem to be in a hurry," observed Sant' Ilario, considerably amused.</p> + <p>"Naturally. They are waiting for me."</p> + <p>"Well, go as fast as you can—never keep a woman waiting. By the way, bring + the skin back. I would rather you bought twenty live tigers at the Prati than lose + that old thing."</p> + <p>Orsino promised and was soon in his cab on the way to Gouache's studio, having the + skin rolled up on his knees, the head hanging out on one side and the tail on the + other, to the infinite interest of the people in the street. He was just + congratulating himself on having wasted so little time in conversation with his + father, when the figure of a tall woman walking towards him on the pavement, arrested + his attention. His cab must pass close by her, and there was no mistaking his mother + at a hundred yards' distance. She saw him too and made a sign with her parasol for + him to stop.</p> + <p>"Good-morning, Orsino," said the sweet deep voice.</p> + <p>"Good-morning, mother," he answered, as he descended hat in hand, and kissed the + gloved fingers she extended to him.</p> + <p>He could not help thinking, as he looked at her, that she was infinitely more + beautiful even now than Madame d'Aragona. As for Corona, it seemed to her that there + was no man on earth to compare with her eldest son, except Giovanni himself, and + there all comparison ceased. Their eyes met affectionately and it would have been, + hard to say which was the more proud of the other, the son of his mother, or the + mother of her son. Nevertheless Orsino was in a hurry. Anticipating all questions he + told her in as few words as possible the nature of his errand, the object of the + tiger's skin, and the name of the lady who was sitting to Gouache.</p> + <p>"It is strange," said Corona. "I have never heard your father speak of her."</p> + <p>"He has never heard of her either. He just told me so."</p> + <p>"I have almost enough curiosity to get into your cab and go with you."</p> + <p>"Do, mother." There was not much enthusiasm in the answer.</p> + <p>Corona looked at him, smiled, and shook her head.</p> + <p>"Foolish boy! Did you think I was in earnest? I should only spoil your amusement + in the studio, and the lady would see that I had come to inspect her. Two good + reasons—but the first is the better, dear. Go—do not keep them + waiting."</p> + <p>"Will you not take my cab? I can get another."</p> + <p>"No. I am in no hurry. Good-bye."</p> + <p>And nodding to him with an affectionate smile, Corona passed on, leaving Orsino + free at last to carry the skin to its destination.</p> + <p>When he entered the studio he found Madame d'Aragona absorbed in the contemplation + of a piece of old tapestry which hung opposite to her, while Gouache was drawing in a + tiny Hercules, high up in the right hand corner of the picture, as he had proposed. + The conversation seemed to have languished, and Orsino was immediately conscious that + the atmosphere had changed since he had left. He unrolled the skin as he entered, and + Madame d'Aragona looked at it critically. She saw that the tawny colours would become + her in the portrait and her expression grew more animated.</p> + <p>"It is really very good of you," she said, with a grateful glance.</p> + <p>"I have a disappointment in store for you," answered Orsino. "My father says that + Hercules wore a lion's skin. He is quite right, I remember all about it."</p> + <p>"Of course," said Gouache. "How could we make such a mistake!"</p> + <p>He dropped the bit of chalk he held and looked at Madame d'Aragona.</p> + <p>"What difference does it make?" asked the latter. "A lion—a tiger! I am sure + they are very much alike."</p> + <p>"After all, it is a tiresome idea," said the painter. "You will be much better in + the damask cloak. Besides, with the lion's skin you should have the + club—imagine a club in your hands! And Hercules should be spinning at your + feet—a man in a black coat and a high collar, with a distaff! It is an absurd + idea."</p> + <p>"You should not call my ideas absurd and tiresome. It is not civil."</p> + <p>"I thought it had been mine," observed Gouache.</p> + <p>"Not at all. I thought of it—it was quite original."</p> + <p>Gouache laughed a little and looked at Orsino as though asking his opinion.</p> + <p>"Madame is right," said the latter. "She suggested the whole idea—by having + yellow eyes."</p> + <p>"You see, Gouache. I told you so. The Prince takes my view. What will you do?"</p> + <p>"Whatever you command—"</p> + <p>"But I do not want to be ridiculous—"</p> + <p>"I do not see—"</p> + <p>"And yet I must have the tiger."</p> + <p>"I am ready."</p> + <p>"Doubtless—but you must think of another subject, with a tiger in it."</p> + <p>"Nothing easier. Noble Roman damsel—Colosseum—tiger about to + spring—rose—"</p> + <p>"Just heaven! What an old story! Besides, I have not the type."</p> + <p>"The 'Mysteries of Dionysus,'" suggested Gouache. "Thyrsus, leopard's + skin—"</p> + <p>"A Bacchante! Fie, Monsieur—and then, the leopard, when we only have a + tiger."</p> + <p>"Indian princess interviewed by a man-eater—jungle—new + moon—tropical vegetation—"</p> + <p>"You can think of nothing but subjects for a dark type," said Madame d'Aragona + impatiently.</p> + <p>"The fact is, in countries where the tiger walks abroad, the women are generally + brunettes."</p> + <p>"I hate facts. You who are enthusiastic, can you not help us?" She turned to + Orsino.</p> + <p>"Am I enthusiastic?"</p> + <p>"Yes, I am sure of it. Think of something."</p> + <p>Orsino was not pleased. He would have preferred to be thought cold and + impassive.</p> + <p>"What can I say? The first idea was the best. Get a lion instead of a + tiger—nothing is simpler."</p> + <p>"For my part I prefer the damask cloak and the original picture," said Gouache + with decision. "All this mythology is too complicated—too Pompeian—how + shall I say? Besides there is no distinct allusion. A Hercules on a + bracket—anybody may have that. If you were the Marchessa di San Giacinto, for + instance—oh, then everyone would laugh."</p> + <p>"Why? What is that?"</p> + <p>"She married my cousin," said Orsino. "He is an enormous giant, and they say that + she has tamed him."</p> + <p>"Ah no! That would not do. Something else, please."</p> + <p>Orsino involuntarily thought of a sphynx as he looked at the massive brow, the + yellow, sleepy eyes, and the heavy mouth. He wondered how the late Aranjuez had lived + and what death he had died.</p> + <p>He offered the suggestion.</p> + <p>"It would be appropriate," replied Madame d'Aragona. "The Sphynx in the Desert. + Rome is a desert to me."</p> + <p>"It only depends on you—" Orsino began.</p> + <p>"Oh, of course! To make acquaintances, to show myself a little everywhere—it + is simple enough. But it wearies me—until one is caught up in the machinery, a + toothed wheel going round with the rest, one only bores oneself, and I may leave so + soon. Decidedly it is not worth the trouble. Is it?"</p> + <p>She turned her eyes to Orsino as though asking his advice. Orsino laughed.</p> + <p>"How can you ask that question!" he exclaimed. "Only let the trouble be ours."</p> + <p>"Ah! I said you were enthusiastic." She shook her head, and rose from her seat. + "It is time for me to go. We have done nothing this morning, and it is all your + fault, Prince."</p> + <p>"I am distressed—I will not intrude upon your next sitting."</p> + <p>"Oh—as far as that is concerned—" She did not finish the sentence, but + took up the neglected tiger's skin from the chair on which it lay.</p> + <p>She threw it over her shoulders, bringing the grinning head over her hair and + holding the forepaws in her pointed white fingers. She came very near to Gouache and + looked into his eyes, her closed lips smiling.</p> + <p>"Admirable!" exclaimed Gouache. "It is impossible to tell where the woman ends and + the tiger begins. Let me draw you like that."</p> + <p>"Oh no! Not for anything in the world."</p> + <p>She turned away quickly and dropped the skin from her shoulders.</p> + <p>"You will not stay a little longer? You will not let me try?" Gouache seemed + disappointed.</p> + <p>"Impossible," she answered, putting on her hat and beginning to arrange her veil + before a mirror.</p> + <p>Orsino watched her as she stood, her arms uplifted, in an attitude which is almost + always graceful, even for an otherwise ungraceful woman. Madame d'Aragona was perhaps + a little too short, but she was justly proportioned and appeared to be rather slight, + though the tight-fitting sleeves of her frock betrayed a remarkably well turned arm. + Not seeing her face, one might not have singled her out of many as a very striking + woman, for she had neither the stateliness of Orsino's mother, nor the enchanting + grace which distinguished Gouache's wife. But no one could look into her eyes without + feeling that she was very far from being an ordinary woman.</p> + <p>"Quite impossible," she repeated, as she tucked in the ends of her veil and then + turned upon the two men. "The next sitting? Whenever you + like—to-morrow—the day after—name the time."</p> + <p>"When to-morrow is possible, there is no choice," said Gouache, "unless you will + come again to-day."</p> + <p>"To-morrow, then, good-bye." She held out her hand.</p> + <p>"There are sketches on each of my fingers, Madame—principally, of + tigers."</p> + <p>"Good-bye then—consider your hand shaken. Are you going, Prince?"</p> + <p>Orsino had taken his hat and was standing beside her.</p> + <p>"You will allow me to put you into your carriage."</p> + <p>"I shall walk."</p> + <p>"So much the better. Good-bye, Monsieur Gouache."</p> + <p>"Why say, Monsieur?"</p> + <p>"As you like—you are older than I."</p> + <p>"I? Who has told you that legend? It is only a myth. When you are sixty years old, + I shall still be five-and-twenty."</p> + <p>"And I?" enquired Madame d'Aragona, who was still young enough to laugh at + age.</p> + <p>"As old as you were yesterday, not a day older."</p> + <p>"Why not say to-day?"</p> + <p>"Because to-day has a to-morrow—yesterday has none."</p> + <p>"You are delicious, my dear Gouache. Good-bye."</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona went out with Orsino, and they descended the broad staircase + together. Orsino was not sure whether he might not be showing too much anxiety to + remain in the company of his new acquaintance, and as he realised how unpleasant it + would be to sacrifice the walk with her, he endeavoured to excuse to himself his + derogation from his self-imposed character of cool superiority and indifference. She + was very amusing, he said to himself, and he had nothing in the world to do. He never + had anything to do, since his education had been completed. Why should he not walk + with Madame d'Aragona and talk to her? It would be better than hanging about the club + or reading a novel at home. The hounds did not meet on that day, or he would not have + been at Gouache's at all. But they were to meet to-morrow, and he would therefore not + see Madame d'Aragona.</p> + <p>"Gouache is an old friend of yours, I suppose," observed the lady.</p> + <p>"He was a friend of my father's. He is almost a Roman. He married a distant + connection of mine, Donna Faustina Montevarchi."</p> + <p>"Ah yes—I have heard. He is a man of immense genius."</p> + <p>"He is a man I envy with all my heart," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"You envy Gouache? I should not have thought—"</p> + <p>"No? Ah, Madame, to me a man who has a career, a profession, an interest, is a + god."</p> + <p>"I like that," answered Madame d'Aragona. "But it seems to me you have your + choice. You have the world before you. Write your name upon it. You do not lack + enthusiasm. Is it the inspiration that you need?"</p> + <p>"Perhaps," said Orsino glancing meaningly at her as she looked at him.</p> + <p>"That is not new," thought she, "but he is charming, all the same. They say," she + added aloud, "that genius finds inspiration everywhere."</p> + <p>"Alas, I am not a genius. What I ask is an occupation, and permanent interest. The + thing is impossible, but I am not resigned."</p> + <p>"Before thirty everything is possible," said Madame d'Aragona. She knew that the + mere mention of so mature an age would be flattering to such a boy.</p> + <p>"The objections are insurmountable," replied Orsino.</p> + <p>"What objections? Remember that I do not know Rome, nor the Romans."</p> + <p>"We are petrified in traditions. Spicca said the other day that there was but one + hope for us. The Americans may yet discover Italy, as we once discovered + America."</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona smiled.</p> + <p>"Who is Spicca?" she enquired, with a lazy glance at her companion's face.</p> + <p>"Spicca? Surely you have heard of him. He used to be a famous duellist. He is our + great wit. My father likes him very much—he is an odd character."</p> + <p>"There will be all the more credit in succeeding, if you have to break through a + barrier of tradition and prejudice," said Madame d'Aragona, reverting rather abruptly + to the first subject.</p> + <p>"You do not know what that means." Orsino shook his head incredulously. "You have + never tried it."</p> + <p>"No. How could a woman be placed in such a position?"</p> + <p>"That is just it. You cannot understand me."</p> + <p>"That does not follow. Women often understand men—men they love or + detest—better than men themselves."</p> + <p>"Do you love me, Madame?" asked Orsino with a smile.</p> + <p>"I have just made your acquaintance," laughed Madame d'Aragona. "It is a little + too soon."</p> + <p>"But then, according to you, if you understand me, you detest me."</p> + <p>"Well? If I do?" She was still laughing.</p> + <p>"Then I ought to disappear, I suppose."</p> + <p>"You do not understand women. Anything is better than indifference. When you see + that you are disliked, then refuse to go away. It is the very moment to remain. Do + not submit to dislike. Revenge yourself."</p> + <p>"I will try," said Orsino, considerably amused.</p> + <p>"Upon me?"</p> + <p>"Since you advise it—"</p> + <p>"Have I said that I detest you?"</p> + <p>"More or less."</p> + <p>"It was only by way of illustration to my argument. I was not serious."</p> + <p>"You have not a serious character, I fancy," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"Do you dare to pass judgment on me after an hour's acquaintance?"</p> + <p>"Since you have judged me! You have said five times that I am enthusiastic."</p> + <p>"That is an exaggeration. Besides, one cannot say a true thing too often."</p> + <p>"How you run on, Madame!"</p> + <p>"And you—to tell me to my face that I am not serious! It is unheard of. Is + that the way you talk to your compatriots?"</p> + <p>"It would not be true. But they would contradict me, as you do. They wish to be + thought gay."</p> + <p>"Do they? I would like to know them."</p> + <p>"Nothing is easier. Will you allow me the honour of undertaking the matter?"</p> + <p>They had reached the door of Madame d'Aragona's hotel. She stood still and looked + curiously at Orsino.</p> + <p>"Certainly not," she answered, rather coldly. "It would be asking too much of + you—too much of society, and far too much of me. Thanks. Good-bye."</p> + <p>"May I come and see you?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>He knew very well that he had gone too far, and his voice was correctly + contrite.</p> + <p>"I daresay we shall meet somewhere," she answered, entering the hotel.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_IV" name='CHAPTER_IV'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>The rage of speculation was at its height in Rome. Thousands, perhaps hundreds of + thousands of persons were embarked in enterprises which soon afterwards ended in + total ruin to themselves and in very serious injury to many of the strongest + financial bodies in the country. Yet it is a fact worth recording that the general + principle upon which affairs were conducted was an honest one. The land was a fact, + the buildings put up were facts, and there was actually a certain amount of capital, + of genuine ready money, in use. The whole matter can be explained in a few words.</p> + <p>The population of Rome had increased considerably since the Italian occupation, + and house-room was needed for the newcomers. Secondly, the partial execution of the + scheme for beautifying the city had destroyed great numbers of dwellings in the most + thickly populated parts, and more house-room was needed to compensate the loss of + habitations, while extensive lots of land were suddenly set free and offered for sale + upon easy conditions in all parts of the town.</p> + <p>Those who availed themselves of these opportunities before the general rush began, + realised immense profits, especially when they had some capital of their own to begin + with. But capital was not indispensable. A man could buy his lot on credit; the banks + were ready to advance him money on notes of hand, in small amounts at high interest, + wherewith to build his house or houses. When the building was finished the bank took + a first mortgage upon the property, the owner let the house, paid the interest on the + mortgage out of the rent and pocketed the difference, as clear gain. In the majority + of eases it was the bank itself which sold the lot of land to the speculator. It is + clear therefore that the only money which actually changed hands was that advanced in + small sums by the bank itself.</p> + <p>As the speculation increased, the banks could not of course afford to lock up all + the small notes of hand they received from various quarters. This paper became a + circulating medium as far as Vienna, Paris and even London. The crash came when + Vienna, Paris and London lost faith in the paper, owing, in the first instance, to + one or two small failures, and returned it upon Rome; the banks, unable to obtain + cash for it at any price, and being short of ready money, could then no longer + discount the speculator's further notes of hand; so that the speculator found himself + with half-built houses upon his hands which he could neither let, nor finish, nor + sell, and owing money upon bills which he had expected to meet by giving the bank a + mortgage on the now valueless property.</p> + <p>That is what took place in the majority of cases, and it is not necessary to go + into further details, though of course chance played all the usual variations upon + the theme of ruin.</p> + <p>What distinguishes the period of speculation in Rome from most other + manifestations of the kind in Europe is the prominent part played in it by the old + land-holding families, a number of which were ruined in wild schemes which no + sensible man of business would have touched. This was more or less the result of + recent changes in the laws regulating the power of persons making a will.</p> + <p>Previous to 1870 the law of primogeniture was as much respected in Rome as in + England, and was carried out with considerably greater strictness. The heir got + everything, the other children got practically nothing but the smallest pittance. The + palace, the gallery of pictures and statues, the lands, the villages and the castles, + descended in unbroken succession from eldest son to eldest son, indivisible in + principle and undivided in fact.</p> + <p>The new law requires that one half of the total property shall be equally + distributed by the testator amongst all his children. He may leave the other half to + any one he pleases, and as a matter of practice he of course leaves it to his eldest + son.</p> + <p>Another law, however, forbids the alienation of all collections of works of art + either wholly or in part, if they have existed as such for a certain length of time, + and if the public has been admitted daily or on any fixed days, to visit them. It is + not in the power of the Borghese, or the Colonna, for instance, to sell a picture or + a statue out of their galleries, nor to raise money upon such an object by mortgage + or otherwise.</p> + <p>Yet these works of art figure at a very high valuation, in the total property of + which the testator must divide one half amongst his children, though in point of fact + they yield no income whatever. But it is of no use to divide them, since none of the + heirs could be at liberty to take them away nor realise their value in any + manner.</p> + <p>The consequence is, that the principal heir, after the division has taken place, + finds himself the nominal master of certain enormously valuable possessions, which in + reality yield him nothing or next to nothing. He also foresees that in the next + generation the same state of things will exist in a far higher degree, and that the + position of the head of the family will go from bad to worse until a crisis of some + kind takes place.</p> + <p>Such a case has recently occurred. A certain Roman prince is bankrupt. The sale of + his gallery would certainly relieve the pressure, and would possibly free him from + debt altogether. But neither he nor his creditors can lay a finger upon the pictures, + nor raise a centime upon them. This man, therefore, is permanently reduced to penury, + and his creditors are large losers, while he is still <i>de jure</i> and <i>de + facto</i> the owner of property probably sufficient to cover all his obligations. + Fortunately, he chances to be childless, a fact consoling, perhaps, to the + philanthropist, but not especially so to the sufferer himself.</p> + <p>It is clear that the temptation to increase "distributable" property, if one may + coin such, an expression, is very great, and accounts for the way in which many Roman + gentlemen have rushed headlong into speculation, though possessing none of the + qualities necessary for success, and only one of the requisites, namely, a certain + amount of ready money, or free and convertible property. A few have been fortunate, + while the majority of those who have tried the experiment have been heavy losers. It + cannot be said that any one of them all has shown natural talent for finance.</p> + <p>Let the reader forgive these dry explanations if he can. The facts explained have + a direct bearing upon the story I am telling, but shall not, as mere facts, be + referred to again.</p> + <p>I have already said that Ugo Del Ferice had returned to Rome soon after the + change, had established himself with his wife, Donna Tullia, and was at the time I am + speaking about, deeply engaged in the speculations of the day. He had once been, + tolerably popular in society, having been looked upon as a harmless creature, useful + in his way and very obliging. But the circumstances which had attended his flight + some years earlier had become known, and most of his old acquaintances turned him the + cold shoulder. He had expected this and was neither disappointed nor humiliated. He + had made new friends and acquaintances during his exile, and it was to his interest + to stand by them. Like many of those who had played petty and dishonourable parts in + the revolutionary times, he had succeeded in building up a reputation for patriotism + upon a very slight foundation, and had found persons willing to believe him a + sufferer who had escaped martyrdom for the cause, and had deserved the crown of + election to a constituency as a just reward of his devotion. The Romans cared very + little what became of him. The old Blacks confounded Victor Emmanuel with Garibaldi, + Cavour with Persiano, and Silvio Pellico with Del Ferice in one sweeping + condemnation, desiring nothing so much as never to hear the hated names mentioned in + their houses. The Grey party, being also Roman, disapproved of Ugo on general + principles and particularly because he had been a spy, but the Whites, not being + Romans at all and entertaining an especial detestation for every distinctly Roman + opinion, received him at his own estimation, as society receives most people who live + in good houses, give good dinners and observe the proprieties in the matter of + visiting-cards. Those who knew anything definite of the man's antecedents were mostly + persons who had little histories of their own, and they told no tales out of school. + The great personages who had once employed him would have been magnanimous enough to + acknowledge him in any case, but were agreeably disappointed when they discovered + that he was not amongst the common herd of pension hunters, and claimed no + substantial rewards save their politeness and a line in the visiting lists of their + wives. And as he grew in wealth and importance they found that he could be useful + still, as bank directors and members of parliament can be, in a thousand ways. So it + came to pass that the Count and Countess Del Ferice became prominent persons in the + Roman world.</p> + <p>Ugo was a man of undoubted talent. By his own individual efforts, though with + small scruple as to the means he employed, he had raised himself from obscurity to a + very enviable position. He had only once in his life been carried away by the + weakness of a personal enmity, and he had been made to pay heavily for his caprice. + If Donna Tullia had abandoned him when he was driven out of Rome by the influence of + the Saracinesca, he might have disappeared altogether from the scene. But she was an + odd compound of rashness and foresight, of belief and unbelief, and she had at that + time felt herself bound by an oath she dared not break, besides being attached to him + by a hatred of Giovanni Saracinesca almost as great as his own. She had followed him + and had married him without hesitation; but she had kept the undivided possession of + her fortune while allowing him a liberal use of her income. In return, she claimed a + certain liberty of action when she chose to avail herself of it. She would not be + bound in the choice of her acquaintances nor criticised in the measure of like or + dislike she bestowed upon them. She was by no means wholly bad, and if she had a + harmless fancy now and then, she required her husband to treat her as above + suspicion. On the whole, the arrangement worked very well. Del Ferice, on his part, + was unswervingly faithful to her in word and deed, for he exhibited in a high degree + that unfaltering constancy which is bred of a permanent, unalienable, financial + interest. Bad men are often clever, but if their cleverness is of a superior order + they rarely do anything bad. It is true that when they yield to the pressure of + necessity their wickedness surpasses that of other men in the same degree as their + intelligence. Not only honesty, but all virtue collectively, is the best possible + policy, provided that the politician can handle such a tremendous engine of evil as + goodness is in the hands of a thoroughly bad man.</p> + <p>Those who desired pecuniary accommodation of the bank in which Del Ferice had an + interest, had no better friend than he. His power with the directors seemed to be as + boundless as his desire to assist the borrower. But he was helpless to prevent the + foreclosure of a mortgage, and had been moved almost to tears in the expression of + his sympathy with the debtor and of his horror at the hard-heartedness shown by his + partners. To prove his disinterested spirit it only need be said that on many + occasions he had actually come forward as a private individual and had taken over the + mortgage himself, distinctly stating that he could not hold it for more than a year, + but expressing a hope that the debtor might in that time retrieve himself. If this + really happened, he earned the man's eternal gratitude; if not, he foreclosed indeed, + but the loser never forgot that by Del Fence's kindness he had been offered a last + chance at a desperate moment. It could not be said to be Del Ferice's fault that the + second case was the more frequent one, nor that the result to himself was profit in + either event.</p> + <p>In his dealings with his constituency he showed a noble desire for the public + welfare, for he was never known to refuse anything in reason to the electors who + applied to him. It is true that in the case of certain applications, he consumed so + much time in preliminary enquiries and subsequent formalities that the applicants + sometimes died and sometimes emigrated to the Argentine Republic before the matter + could be settled; but they bore with them to South America—or to the + grave—the belief that the Onorevole Del Ferice was on their side, and the + instances of his prompt, decisive and successful action were many. He represented a + small town in the Neapolitan Province, and the benefits and advantages he had + obtained for it were numberless. The provincial high road had been made to pass + through it; all express trains stopped at its station, though the passengers who made + use of the inestimable privilege did not average twenty in the month; it possessed a + Piazza Vittorio Emmanuela, a Corso Garibaldi, a Via Cavour, a public garden of at + least a quarter of an acre, planted with no less than twenty-five acacias and adorned + by a fountain representing a desperate-looking character in the act of firing a + finely executed revolver at an imaginary oppressor. Pigs were not allowed within the + limits of the town, and the uniforms of the municipal brass band were perfectly new. + Could civilisation do more? The bank of which Del Ferice was a director bought the + octroi duties of the town at the periodical auction, and farmed them skilfully, + together with those of many other towns in the same province.</p> + <p>So Del Ferice was a very successful man, and it need scarcely be said that he was + now not only independent of his wife's help but very much richer than she had ever + been. They lived in a highly decorated, detached modern house in the new part of the + city. The gilded gate before the little plot of garden, bore their intertwined + initials, surmounted by a modest count's coronet. Donna Tullia would have preferred a + coat of arms, or even a crest, but Ugo was sensitive to ridicule, and he was aware + that a count's coronet in Rome means nothing at all, whereas a coat of arms means + vastly more than in most cities.</p> + <p>Within, the dwelling was somewhat unpleasantly gorgeous. Donna Tullia had always + loved red, both for itself and because it made her own complexion seem less florid by + contrast, and accordingly red satin predominated in the drawing-rooms, red velvet in + the dining-room, red damask in the hall and red carpets on the stairs. Some fine + specimens of gilding were also to be seen, and Del Ferice had been one of the first + to use electric light. Everything was new, expensive and polished to its extreme + capacity for reflection. The servants wore vivid liveries and on formal occasions the + butler appeared in short-clothes and black silk stockings. Donna Tullia's equipage + was visible at a great distance, but Del Fence's own coachman and groom wore dark + green with, black epaulettes.</p> + <p>On the morning which Orsino and Madame d'Aragona had spent in Gouache's studio the + Countess Del Ferice entered her husband's study in order to consult him upon a rather + delicate matter. He was alone, but busy as usual. His attention was divided between + an important bank operation and a petition for his help in obtaining a decoration for + the mayor of the town he represented. The claim to this distinction seemed to rest + chiefly on the petitioner's unasked evidence in regard to his own moral rectitude, + yet Del Ferice was really exercising all his ingenuity to discover some suitable + reason for asking the favour. He laid the papers down with a sigh as Donna Tullia + came in.</p> + <p>"Good morning, my angel," he said suavely, as he pointed to a chair at his + side—the one usually occupied at this hour by seekers for financial support. + "Have you rested well?"</p> + <p>He never failed to ask the question.</p> + <p>"Not badly, not badly, thank Heaven!" answered Donna Tullia. "I have a dreadful + cold, of course, and a headache—my head is really splitting."</p> + <p>"Rest—rest is what you need, my dear—"</p> + <p>"Oh, it is nothing. This Durakoff is a great man. If he had not made me go to + Carlsbad—I really do not know. But I have something to say to you. I want your + help, Ugo. Please listen to me."</p> + <p>Ugo's fat white face already expressed anxious attention. To accentuate the + expression of his readiness to listen, he now put all his papers into a drawer and + turned towards his wife.</p> + <p>"I must go to the Jubilee," said Donna Tullia, coming to the point.</p> + <p>"Of course you must go—"</p> + <p>"And I must have my seat among the Roman ladies"</p> + <p>"Of course you must," repeated Del Ferice with a little less alacrity.</p> + <p>"Ah! You see. It is not so easy. You know it is not. Yet I have as good a right to + my seat as any one—better perhaps."</p> + <p>"Hardly that," observed Ugo with a smile. "When you married me, my angel, you + relinquished your claims to a seat at the Vatican functions."</p> + <p>"I did nothing of the kind. I never said so, I am sure."</p> + <p>"Perhaps if you could make that clear to the majorduomo—"</p> + <p>"Absurd, Ugo. You know it is. Besides, I will not beg. You must get me the seat. + You can do anything with your influence."</p> + <p>"You could easily get into one of the diplomatic tribunes," observed Ugo.</p> + <p>"I will not go there. I mean to assert myself. I am a Roman lady and I will have + my seat, and you must get it for me."</p> + <p>"I will do my best. But I do not quite see where I am to begin. It will need time + and consideration and much tact."</p> + <p>"It seems to me very simple. Go to one of the clerical deputies and say that you + want the ticket for your wife—"</p> + <p>"And then?"</p> + <p>"Give him to understand that you will vote for his next measure. Nothing could be + simpler, I am sure."</p> + <p>Del Ferice smiled blandly at his wife's ideas of parliamentary diplomacy.</p> + <p>"There are no clerical deputies in the parliament of the nation. If there were the + thing might be possible, and it would be very interesting to all the clericals to + read an account of the transaction in the Osservatore Romano. In any case, I am not + sure that it will be much to our advantage that the wife of the Onorevole Del Ferice + should be seen seated in the midst of the Black ladies. It will produce an + unfavourable impression."</p> + <p>"If you are going to talk of impressions—" Donna Tullia shrugged her massive + shoulders.</p> + <p>"No, my dear. You mistake me. I am not going to talk of them, because, as I at + once told you, it is quite right that you should go to this affair. If you go, you + must go in the proper way. No doubt there will be people who will have invitations + but will not use them. We can perhaps procure you the use of such a ticket."</p> + <p>"I do not care what name is on the paper, provided I can sit in the right + place."</p> + <p>"Very well," answered Del Ferice. "I will do my best."</p> + <p>"I expect it of you, Ugo. It is not often that I ask anything of you, is it? It is + the least you can do. The idea of getting a card that is not to be used is good; of + course they will all get them, and some of them are sure to be ill."</p> + <p>Donna Tullia went away satisfied that what she wanted would be forthcoming at the + right moment. What she had said was true. She rarely asked anything of her husband. + But when she did, she gave him to understand that she would have it at any price. It + was her way of asserting herself from time to time. On the present occasion she had + no especial interest at stake and any other woman might have been satisfied with a + seat in the diplomatic tribune, which could probably have been obtained without great + difficulty. But she had heard that the seats there were to be very high and she did + not really wish to be placed in too prominent a position. The light might be + unfavourable, and she knew that she was subject to growing very red in places where + it was hot. She had once been a handsome woman and a very vain one, but even her + vanity could not survive the daily shock of the looking-glass torture. To sit for + four or five hours in a high light, facing fifty thousand people, was more than she + could bear with equanimity.</p> + <p>Del Ferice, being left to himself, returned to the question of the mayor's + decoration which was of vastly greater importance to him than his wife's position at + the approaching function. If he failed to get the man what he wanted, the fellow + would doubtless apply to some one of the opposite party, would receive the coveted + honour and would take the whole voting population of the town with him at the next + general election, to the total discomfiture of Del Ferice. It was necessary to find + some valid reason for proposing him for the distinction. Ugo could not decide what to + do just then, but he ultimately hit upon a successful plan. He advised his + correspondent to write a pamphlet upon the rapid improvement of agricultural + interests in his district under the existing ministry, and he even went so far as to + enclose with his letter some notes on the subject. These notes proved to be so + voluminous and complete that when the mayor had copied them he could not find a + pretext for adding a single word or correction. They were printed upon excellent + paper, with ornamental margins, under the title of "Onward, Parthenope!" Of course + every one knows that Parthenope means Naples, the Neapolitans and the Neapolitan + Province, a siren of that name having come to final grief somewhere between the + Chiatamone and Posilippo. The mayor got his decoration, and Del Ferice was + re-elected; but no one has inquired into the truth of the statements made in the + pamphlet upon agriculture.</p> + <p>It is clear that a man who was capable of taking so much trouble for so small a + matter would not disappoint his wife when she had set her heart upon such a trifle as + a ticket for the Jubilee. Within three days he had the promise of what he wanted. A + certain lonely lady of high position lay very ill just then, and it need scarcely be + explained that her confidential servant fell upon the invitation as soon as it + arrived and sold it for a round sum to the first applicant, who happened to be Count + Del Ferice's valet. So the matter was arranged, privately and without scandal.</p> + <p>All Rome was alive with expectation. The date fixed was the first of January, and + as the day approached the curious foreigner mustered in his thousands and tens of + thousands and took the city by storm. The hotels were thronged. The billiard tables + were let as furnished rooms, people slept in the lifts, on the landings, in the + porters' lodges. The thrifty Romans retreated to roofs and cellars and let their + small dwellings. People reaching the city on the last night slept in the cabs they + had hired to take them to St. Peter's before dawn. Even the supplies of food ran low + and the hungry fed on what they could get, while the delicate of taste very often did + not feed at all. There was of course the usual scare about a revolutionary + demonstration, to which the natives paid very little attention, but which delighted + the foreigners.</p> + <p>Not more than half of those who hoped to witness the ceremony saw anything of it, + though the basilica will hold some eighty thousand people at a pinch, and the crowd + on that occasion was far greater than at the opening of the Oecumenical Council in + 1869.</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona had also determined to be present, and she expressed her desire + to Gouache. She had spoken the strict truth when she had said that she knew no one in + Rome, and so far as general accuracy is concerned it was equally true that she had + not fixed the length of her stay. She had not come with any settled purpose beyond a + vague idea of having her portrait painted by the French artist, and unless she took + the trouble to make acquaintances, there was nothing attractive enough about the + capital to keep her. She allowed herself to be driven about the town, on pretence of + seeing churches and galleries, but in reality she saw very little of either. She was + preoccupied with her own thoughts and subject to fits of abstraction. Most things + seemed to her intensely dull, and the unhappy guide who had been selected to + accompany her on her excursions, wasted his learning upon her on the first morning, + and subsequently exhausted the magnificent catalogue of impossibilities which he had + concocted for the especial benefit of the uncultivated foreigner, without eliciting + so much as a look of interest or an expression of surprise. He was a young and + fascinating guide, wearing a white satin tie, and on the third day he recited some + verses of Stecchetti and was about to risk a declaration of worship in ornate prose, + when he was suddenly rather badly scared by the lady's yellow eyes, and ran on + nervously with a string of deceased popes and their dates.</p> + <p>"Get me a card for the Jubilee," she said abruptly.</p> + <p>"An entrance is very easily procured," answered the guide. "In fact I have one in + my pocket, as it happens. I bought it for twenty francs this morning, thinking that + one of my foreigners would perhaps take it of me. I do not even gain a franc—my + word of honour."</p> + <p>Madame d'Aragona glanced at the slip of paper.</p> + <p>"Not that," she answered. "Do you imagine that I will stand? I want a seat in one + of the tribunes."</p> + <p>The guide lost himself in apologies, but explained that he could not get what she + desired.</p> + <p>"What are you for?" she inquired.</p> + <p>She was an indolent woman, but when by any chance she wanted anything, Donna + Tullia herself was not more restless. She drove at once to Gouache's studio. He was + alone and she told him what she needed.</p> + <p>"The Jubilee, Madame? Is it possible that you have been forgotten?"</p> + <p>"Since they have never heard of me! I have not the slightest claim to a + place."</p> + <p>"It is you who say that. But your place is already secured. Fear nothing. You will + be with the Roman ladies."</p> + <p>"I do not understand—"</p> + <p>"It is simple. I was thinking of it yesterday. Young Saracinesca comes in and + begins to talk about you. There is Madame d'Aragona who has no seat, he says. One + must arrange that. So it is arranged."</p> + <p>"By Don Orsino?"</p> + <p>"You would not accept? No. A young man, and you have only met once. But tell me + what you think of him. Do you like him?"</p> + <p>"One does not like people so easily as that," said Madame d'Aragona, "How have you + arranged about the seat?"</p> + <p>"It is very simple. There are to be two days, you know. My wife has her cards for + both, of course. She will only go once. If you will accept the one for the first day, + she will be very happy."</p> + <p>"You are angelic, my dear friend! Then I go as your wife?" She laughed.</p> + <p>"Precisely. You will be Faustina Gouache instead of Madame d'Aragona."</p> + <p>"How delightful! By the bye, do not call me Madame d'Aragona. It is not my name. I + might as well call you Monsieur de Paris, because you are a Parisian."</p> + <p>"I do not put Anastase Gouache de Paris on my cards," answered Gouache with a + laugh. "What may I call you? Donna Maria?"</p> + <p>"My name is Maria Consuelo d'Aranjuez."</p> + <p>"An ancient Spanish name," said Gouache.</p> + <p>"My husband was an Italian."</p> + <p>"Ah! Of Spanish descent, originally of Aragona. Of course."</p> + <p>"Exactly. Since I am here, shall I sit for you? You might almost finish + to-day."</p> + <p>"Not so soon as that. It is Don Orsino's hour, but as he has not come, and since + you are so kind—by all means."</p> + <p>"Ah! Is he punctual?"</p> + <p>"He is probably running after those abominable dogs in pursuit of the feeble + fox—what they call the noble sport."</p> + <p>Gouache's face expressed considerable disgust."</p> + <p>"Poor fellow!" said Maria Consuelo. "He has nothing else to do."</p> + <p>"He will get used to it. They all do. Besides, it is really the natural condition + of man. Total idleness is his element. If Providence meant man to work, it should + have given him two heads, one for his profession and one for himself. A man needs one + entire and undivided intelligence for the study of his own individuality."</p> + <p>"What an idea!"</p> + <p>"Do not men of great genius notoriously forget themselves, forget to eat and drink + and dress themselves like Christians? That is because they have not two heads. + Providence expects a man to do two things at once—an air from an opera and + invent the steam-engine at the same moment. Nature rebels. Then Providence and Nature + do not agree. What becomes of religion? It is all a mystery. Believe me, Madame, art + is easier than, nature, and painting is simpler than theology."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo listened to Gouache's extraordinary remarks with a smile.</p> + <p>"You are either paradoxical, or irreligious, or both," she said.</p> + <p>"Irreligious? I, who carried a rifle at Mentana? No, Madame, I am a good + Catholic."</p> + <p>"What does that mean?"</p> + <p>"I believe in God, and I love my wife. I leave it to the Church to define my other + articles of belief. I have only one head, as you see."</p> + <p>Gouache smiled, but there was a note of sincerity in the odd statement which did + not escape his hearer.</p> + <p>"You are not of the type which belongs to the end of the century," she said.</p> + <p>"That type was not invented when I was forming myself."</p> + <p>"Perhaps you belong rather to the coming age—the age of simplification."</p> + <p>"As distinguished from the age of mystification—religious, political, + scientific and artistic," suggested Gouache. "The people of that day will guess the + Sphynx's riddle."</p> + <p>"Mine? You were comparing me to a sphynx the other day."</p> + <p>"Yours, perhaps, Madame. Who knows? Are you the typical woman of the ending + century?"</p> + <p>"Why not?" asked Maria Consuelo with a sleepy look.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_V" name='CHAPTER_V'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER V.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>There is something grand in any great assembly of animals belonging to the same + race. The very idea of an immense number of living creatures conveys an impression + not suggested by anything else. A compact herd of fifty or sixty thousand lions would + be an appalling vision, beside which a like multitude of human beings would sink into + insignificance. A drove of wild cattle is, I think, a finer sight than a regiment of + cavalry in motion, for the cavalry is composite, half man and half horse, whereas the + cattle have the advantage of unity. But we can never see so many animals of any + species driven together into one limited space as to be equal to a vast throng of men + and women, and we conclude naturally enough that a crowd consisting solely of our own + kind is the most imposing one conceivable.</p> + <p>It was scarcely light on the morning of New Year's Day when the Princess Sant' + Ilario found herself seated in one of the low tribunes on the north side of the high + altar in Saint Peter's. Her husband and her eldest son had accompanied her, and + having placed her in a position from which they judged she could easily escape at the + end of the ceremony, they remained standing in the narrow, winding passage between + improvised barriers which led from the tribune to the door of the sacristy, and which + had been so arranged as to prevent confusion. Here they waited, greeting their + acquaintances when they could recognise them in the dim twilight of the church, and + watching the ever-increasing crowd that surged slowly backward and forward outside + the barrier. The old prince was entitled by an hereditary office to a place in the + great procession of the day, and was not now with them.</p> + <p>Orsino felt as though the whole world were assembled about him within the huge + cathedral, as though its heart were beating audibly and its muffled breathing rising + and falling in his hearing. The unceasing sound that went up from the compact mass of + living beings was soft in quality, but enormous in volume and sustained in tone, a + great whispering which, might have been heard a mile away. One hears in mammoth + musical festivals the extraordinary effect of four or five thousand voices singing + very softly; it is not to be compared to the unceasing whisper of fifty thousand + men.</p> + <p>The young fellow was conscious of a strange, irregular thrill of enthusiasm which + ran through him from time to time and startled his imagination into life. It was only + the instinct of a strong vitality unconsciously longing to be the central point of + the vitalities around it. But he could not understand that. It seemed to him like a + great opportunity brought "within reach but slipping by untaken, not to return again. + He felt a strange, almost uncontrollable longing to spring upon one of the tribunes, + to raise his voice, to speak to the great multitude, to fire all those men to break + out and carry everything before them. He laughed audibly at himself. Sant' Ilario + looked at his son with some curiosity.</p> + <p>"What amuses you?" he asked.</p> + <p>"A dream," answered Orsino, still smiling. "Who knows?" he exclaimed after a + pause. "What would happen, if at the right moment the right man could stir such a + crowd as this?"</p> + <p>"Strange things," replied Sant' Ilario gravely. "A crowd is a terrible + weapon."</p> + <p>"Then my dream was not so foolish after all. One might make history to-day."</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario made a gesture expressive of indifference.</p> + <p>"What is history?" he asked. "A comedy in which the actors have no written parts, + but improvise their speeches and actions as best they can. That is the reason why + history is so dull and so full of mistakes."</p> + <p>"And of surprises," suggested Orsino.</p> + <p>"The surprises in history are always disagreeable, my boy," answered Sant' + Ilario.</p> + <p>Orsino felt the coldness in the answer and felt even more his father's readiness + to damp any expression of enthusiasm. Of late he had encountered this chilling + indifference at almost every turn, whenever he gave vent to his admiration for any + sort of activity.</p> + <p>It was not that Giovanni Saracinesca had any intention of repressing his son's + energetic instincts, and he assuredly had no idea of the effect his words often + produced. He sometimes wondered at the sudden silence which came over the young man + after such conversations, but he did not understand it and on the whole paid little + attention to it. He remembered that he himself had been different, and had been wont + to argue hotly and not unfrequently to quarrel with his father about trifles. He + himself had been headstrong, passionate, often intractable in his early youth, and + his father had been no better at sixty and was little improved in that respect even + at his present great age. But Orsino did not argue. He suggested, and if any one + disagreed with him he became silent. He seemed to possess energy in action, and a + number of rather fantastic aspirations, but in conversation he was easily silenced + and in outward manner he would have seemed too yielding if he had not often seemed + too cold.</p> + <p>Giovanni did not see that Orsino was most like his mother in character, while the + contact with a new generation had given him something unfamiliar to the old, an + affectation at first, but one which habit was amalgamating with the real nature + beneath.</p> + <p>No doubt, it was wise and right to discourage ideas which would tend in any way to + revolution. Giovanni had seen revolutions and had been the loser by them. It was not + wise and was certainly not necessary to throw cold water on the young fellow's + harmless aspirations. But Giovanni had lived for many years in his own way, rich, + respected and supremely happy, and he believed that his way was good enough for + Orsino. He had, in his youth, tried most things for himself, and had found them + failures so far as happiness was concerned. Orsino might make the series of + experiments in his turn if he pleased, but there was no adequate reason for such an + expenditure of energy. The sooner the boy loved some girl who would make him a good + wife, and the sooner he married her, the sooner he would find that calm, satisfactory + existence which had not finally come to Giovanni until after thirty years of age.</p> + <p>As for the question of fortune, it was true that there were four sons, but there + was Giovanni's mother's fortune, there was Corona's fortune, and there was the great + Saracinesca estate behind both. They were all so extremely rich that the deluge must + be very distant.</p> + <p>Orsino understood none of these things. He only realised that his father had the + faculty and apparently the intention of freezing any originality he chanced to show, + and he inwardly resented the coldness, quietly, if foolishly, resolving to astonish + those who misunderstood him by seizing the first opportunity of doing something out + of the common way. For some time he stood in silence watching the people who came by + and glancing from time to time at the dense crowd outside the barrier. He was + suddenly aware that his father was observing intently a lady who advanced along the + open, way.</p> + <p>"There is Tullia Del Ferice!" exclaimed Sant' Ilario in surprise.</p> + <p>"I do not know her, except by sight," observed Orsino indifferently.</p> + <p>The countess was very imposing in her black veil and draperies. Her red face + seemed to lose its colour in the dim church and she affected a slow and stately + manner more becoming to her weight than was her natural restless vivacity. She had + got what she desired and she swept proudly along to take her old place among the + ladies of Rome. No one knew whose card she had delivered up at the entrance to the + sacristy, and she enjoyed the triumph of showing that the wife of the revolutionary, + the banker, the member of parliament, had not lost caste after all.</p> + <p>She looked Giovanni full in the face with her disagreeable blue eyes as she came + up, apparently not meaning to recognise him. Then, just as she passed him, she + deigned to make a very slight inclination of the head, just enough to compel Sant' + Ilario to return the salutation. It was very well done. Orsino did not know all the + details of the past events, but he knew that his father had once wounded Del Ferice + in a duel and he looked at Del Fence's wife with some curiosity. He had seldom had an + opportunity of being so near to her.</p> + <p>"It was certainly not about her that they fought," he reflected. "It must have + been about some other woman, if there was a woman in the question at all."</p> + <p>A moment later he was aware that a pair of tawny eyes was fixed on him. Maria + Consuelo was following Donna Tullia at a distance of a dozen yards. Orsino came + forward and his new acquaintance held out her hand. They had not met since they had + first seen each other.</p> + <p>"It was so kind of you," she said.</p> + <p>"What, Madame?"</p> + <p>"To suggest this to Gouache. I should have had no ticket—where shall I + sit?"</p> + <p>Orsino did not understand, for though he had mentioned the subject, Gouache had + not told him what he meant to do. But there was no time to be lost in conversation. + Orsino led her to the nearest opening in the tribune and pointed to a seat.</p> + <p>"I called," he said quickly. "You did not receive—"</p> + <p>"Come again, I will be at home," she answered in a low voice, as she passed + him.</p> + <p>She sat down in a vacant place beside Donna Tullia, and Orsino noticed that his + mother was just behind them both. Corona had been watching him unconsciously, as she + often did, and was somewhat surprised to see him conducting a lady whom she did not + know. A glance told her that the lady was a foreigner; as such, if she were present + at all, she should have been in the diplomatic tribune. There was nothing to think + of, and Corona tried to solve the small social problem that presented itself. Orsino + strolled back to his father's side.</p> + <p>"Who is she?" inquired Sant' Ilario with some curiosity.</p> + <p>"The lady who wanted the tiger's skin—Aranjuez—I told you of her."</p> + <p>"The portrait you gave me was not flattering. She is handsome, if not + beautiful."</p> + <p>"Did I say she was not?" asked Orsino with a visible irritation most unlike + him.</p> + <p>"I thought so. You said she had yellow eyes, red hair and a squint." Sant' Ilario + laughed.</p> + <p>"Perhaps I did. But the effect seems to be harmonious."</p> + <p>"Decidedly so. You might have introduced me."</p> + <p>To this Orsino said nothing, but relapsed into a moody silence. He would have + liked nothing better than to bring about the acquaintance, but he had only met Maria + Consuelo once, though that interview had been a long one, and he remembered her + rather short answer to his offer of service in the way of making acquaintances.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo on her part was quite unconscious that she was sitting in front of + the Princess Sant' Ilario, but she had seen the lady by her side bow to Orsino's + companion in passing, and she guessed from a certain resemblance that the dark, + middle-aged man might be young Saracinesca's father. Donna Tullia had seen Corona + well enough, but as they had not spoken for nearly twenty years she decided not to + risk a nod where she could not command an acknowledgment of it. So she pretended to + be quite unconscious of her old enemy's presence.</p> + <p>Donna Tullia, however, had noticed as she turned her head in sitting down that + Orsino was piloting a strange lady to the tribune, and when the latter sat down + beside her, she determined to make her acquaintance, no matter upon what pretext. The + time was approaching at which the procession was to make its appearance, and Donna. + Tullia looked about for something upon which to open the conversation, glancing from + time to time at her neighbour. It was easy to see that the place and the surroundings + were equally unfamiliar to the newcomer, who looked with evident interest at the + twisted columns of the high altar, at the vast mosaics in the dome, at the red damask + hangings of the nave, at the Swiss guards, the chamberlains in court dress and at all + the mediæval-looking, motley figures that moved about within the space kept + open for the coming function.</p> + <p>"It is a wonderful sight," said Donna Tullia in Trench, very softly, and almost as + though speaking to herself.</p> + <p>"Wonderful indeed," answered Maria Consuelo, "especially to a stranger."</p> + <p>"Madame is a stranger, then," observed Donna Tullia with an agreeable smile.</p> + <p>She looked into her neighbour's face and for the first time realised that she was + a striking person.</p> + <p>"Quite," replied the latter, briefly, and as though not wishing to press the + conversation.</p> + <p>"I fancied so," said Donna Tullia, "though on seeing you in these seats, among us + Romans—"</p> + <p>"I received a card through the kindness of a friend."</p> + <p>There was a short pause, during which Donna Tullia concluded that the friend must + have been Orsino. But the next remark threw her off the scent.</p> + <p>"It was his wife's ticket, I believe," said Maria Consuelo. "She could not come. I + am here on false pretences." She smiled carelessly.</p> + <p>Donna Tullia lost herself in speculation, but failed to solve the problem.</p> + <p>"You have chosen a most favourable moment for your first visit to Rome," she + remarked at last.</p> + <p>"Yes. I am always fortunate. I believe I have seen everything worth seeing ever + since I was a little girl."</p> + <p>"She is somebody," thought Donna Tullia. "Probably the wife of a diplomatist, + though. Those people see everything, and talk of nothing but what they have + seen."</p> + <p>"This is historic," she said aloud. "You will have a chance of contemplating the + Romans in their glory. Colonna and Orsini marching side by side, and old Saracinesca + in all his magnificence. He is eighty-two year old."</p> + <p>"Saracinesca?" repeated Maria Consuelo, turning her tawny eyes upon her + neighbour.</p> + <p>"Yes. The father of Sant' Ilario—grandfather of that young fellow who showed + you to your seat."</p> + <p>"Don Orsino? Yes, I know him slightly."</p> + <p>Corona, sitting immediately behind them heard her son's name. As the two ladies + turned towards each other in conversation she heard distinctly what they said. Donna + Tullia was of course aware of this.</p> + <p>"Do you?" she asked. "His father is a most estimable man—just a little too + estimable, if you understand! As for the boy—"</p> + <p>Donna Tullia moved, her broad shoulders expressively. It was a habit of which even + the irreproachable Del Ferice could not cure her. Corona's face darkened.</p> + <p>"You can hardly call him a boy," observed Maria Consuelo with a smile.</p> + <p>"Ah well—I might have been his mother," Donna Tullia answered with a + contempt for the affectation of youth which she rarely showed. But Corona began to + understand that the conversation was meant for her ears, and grew angry by degrees. + Donna Tullia had indeed been near to marrying Giovanni, and in that sense, too, she + might have been Orsino's mother.</p> + <p>"I fancied you spoke rather disparagingly," said Maria Consuelo with a certain + degree of interest.</p> + <p>"I? No indeed. On the contrary, Don Orsino is a very fine fellow—but thrown + away, positively thrown away in his present surroundings. Of what use is all this + English education—but you are a stranger, Madame, you cannot understand our + Roman point of view."</p> + <p>"If you could explain it to me, I might, perhaps," suggested the other.</p> + <p>"Ah yes—if I could explain it! But I am far too ignorant myself—no, + ignorant is not the word—too prejudiced, perhaps, to make you see it quite as + it is. Perhaps I am a little too liberal, and the Saracinesca are certainly far too + conservative. They mistake education for progress. Poor Don Orsino, I am sorry for + him."</p> + <p>Donna Tullia found no other escape from the difficulty into which she had thrown + herself.</p> + <p>"I did not know that he was to be pitied," said Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"Oh, not he in particular, perhaps," answered the stout countess, growing more and + more vague. "They are all to be pitied, you know. What is to become of young men + brought up in that way? The club, the turf, the card-table—to drink, to gamble, + to bet, it is not an existence!"</p> + <p>"Do you mean that Don Orsino leads that sort of life?" inquired Maria Consuelo + indifferently.</p> + <p>Again Donna Tullia's heavy shoulders moved contemptuously.</p> + <p>"What else is there for him to do?"</p> + <p>"And his father? Did he not do likewise in his youth?"</p> + <p>"His father? Ah, he was different—before he married—full of life, + activity, originality!"</p> + <p>"And since his marriage?"</p> + <p>"He has become estimable, most estimable." The smile with which Donna Tullia + accompanied the statement was intended to be fine, but was only spiteful. Maria + Consuelo, who saw everything with her sleepy glance, noticed the fact.</p> + <p>Corona was disgusted, and leaned back in her seat, as far as possible, in order + not to hear more. She could not help wondering who the strange lady might be to whom + Donna Tullia was so freely expressing her opinions concerning the Saracinesca, and + she determined to ask Orsino after the ceremony. But she wished to hear as little + more as she could.</p> + <p>"When a married man becomes what you call estimable," said Donna Tullia's + companion, "he either adores his wife or hates her."</p> + <p>"What a charming idea!" laughed the countess. It Was tolerably evident that the + remark was beyond her.</p> + <p>"She is stupid," thought Maria Consuelo. "I fancied so from the first. I will ask + Don Orsino about her. He will say something amusing. It will be a subject of + conversation at all events, in place of that endless tiger I invented the other day. + I wonder whether this woman expects me to tell her who I am? That will amount to an + acquaintance. She is certainly somebody, or she would not be here. On the other hand, + she seems to dislike the only man I know besides Gouache. That may lead to + complications. Let us talk of Gouache first, and be guided by circumstances."</p> + <p>"Do you know Monsieur Gouache?" she inquired, abruptly.</p> + <p>"The painter? Yes—I have known him a long time. Is he perhaps painting your + portrait?"</p> + <p>"Exactly. It is really for that purpose that I am in Rome. What a charming + man!"</p> + <p>"Do you think so? Perhaps he is. He painted me some time ago. I was not very well + satisfied. But he has talent."</p> + <p>Donna Tullia had never forgiven the artist for not putting enough soul into the + picture he had painted of her when she was a very young widow.</p> + <p>"He has a great reputation," said Maria Consuelo, "and I think he will succeed + very well with me. Besides, I am grateful to him. He and his painting have been a + pleasant episode in my short stay here."</p> + <p>"Really, I should hardly have thought you could find it worth your while to come + all the way to Rome to be painted by Gouache," observed Donna Tullia. "But of course, + as I say, he has talent."</p> + <p>"This woman is rich," she said to herself. "The wives of diplomatists do not allow + themselves such caprices, as a rule. I wonder who she is?"</p> + <p>"Great talent," assented Maria Consuelo. "And great charm, I think."</p> + <p>"Ah well—of course—I daresay. We Romans cannot help thinking that for + an artist he is a little too much occupied in being a gentleman—and for a + gentleman he is quite too much an artist."</p> + <p>The remark was not original with Donna Tullia, but had been reported to her as + Spicca's, and Spicca had really said something similar about somebody else.</p> + <p>"I had not got that impression," said Maria Consuelo, quietly.</p> + <p>"She hates him, too," she thought. "She seems to hate everybody. That either means + that she knows everybody, or is not received in society."</p> + <p>"But of course you know him better than I do," she added aloud, after a little + pause.</p> + <p>At that moment a strain of music broke out above the great, soft, muffled + whispering that filled the basilica. Some thirty chosen voices of the choir of Saint + Peter's had begun the hymn "Tu es Petrus," as the procession began to defile from the + south aisle into the nave, close by the great door, to traverse the whole distance + thence to the high altar. The Pope's own choir, consisting solely of the singers of + the Sixtine Chapel, waited silently behind the lattice under the statue of Saint + Veronica.</p> + <p>The song rang out louder and louder, simple and grand. Those who have heard + Italian singers at their best know that thirty young Roman throats can emit a volume + of sound equal to that which a hundred men of any other nation could produce. The + stillness around them increased, too, as the procession lengthened. The great, dark + crowd stood shoulder to shoulder, breathless with expectation, each man and woman + feeling for a few short moments that thrill of mysterious anxiety and impatience + which Orsino had felt. No one who was there can ever forget what followed. More than + forty cardinals filed out in front from the Chapel of the Pietà. Then the + hereditary assistants of the Holy See, the heads of the Colonna and the Orsini + houses, entered the nave, side by side for the first time, I believe, in history. + Immediately after them, high above all the procession and the crowd, appeared the + great chair of state, the huge white feathered fans moving slowly on each side, and + upon the throne, the central figure of that vast display, sat the Pope, Leo the + Thirteenth.</p> + <p>Then, without warning and without hesitation, a shout went up such as has never + been heard before in that dim cathedral, nor will, perhaps, be heard again.</p> + <p>"<i>Viva il Papa-Rè!</i> Long life to the Pope-King!"</p> + <p>At the same instant, as though at a preconcerted signal—utterly impossible + in such a throng—in the twinkling of an eye, the dark crowd was as white as + snow. In every hand a white handkerchief was raised, fluttering and waving above + every head.</p> + <p>And the shout once taken up, drowned the strong voices of the singers as + long-drawn thunder drowns the pattering of the raindrops and the sighing of the + wind.</p> + <p>The wonderful face, that seemed to be carved out of transparent alabaster, smiled + and slowly turned from side to side as it passed by. The thin, fragile hand moved + unceasingly, blessing the people.</p> + <p>Orsino Saracinesca saw and heard, and his young face turned pale while his lips + set themselves. By his side, a head shorter than he, stood his father, lost in + thought as he gazed at the mighty spectacle of what had been, and of what might still + have been, but for one day of history's surprises.</p> + <p>Orsino said nothing, but he glanced at Sant' Ilario's face as though to remind his + father of what he had said half an hour earlier; and the elder man knew that there + had been truth in the boy's words. There were soldiers in the church, and they were + not Italian soldiers—some thousands of them in all, perhaps. They were armed, + and there were at the very least computation thirty thousand strong, grown men in the + crowd. And the crowd was on fire. Had there been a hundred, nay a score, of + desperate, devoted leaders there, who knows what bloody work might not have been done + in the city before the sun went down? Who knows what new surprises history might have + found for her play? The thought must have crossed many minds at that moment. But no + one stirred; the religious ceremony remained a religious ceremony and nothing more; + holy peace reigned within the walls, and the hour of peril glided away undisturbed to + take its place among memories of good.</p> + <p>"The world is worn out!" thought Orsino. "The days of great deeds are over. Let us + eat and drink, for to-morrow we die—they are right in teaching me their + philosophy."</p> + <p>A gloomy, sullen melancholy took hold of the boy's young nature, a passing mood, + perhaps, but one which left its mark upon him. For he was at that age when a very + little thing will turn the balance of a character, when an older man's thoughtless + words may direct half a lifetime in a good or evil channel, being recalled and + repeated for a score of years. Who is it that does not remember that day when an + impatient "I will," or a defiant "I will not," turned the whole current of his + existence in the one direction or the other, towards good or evil, or towards success + or failure? Who, that has fought his way against odds into the front rank, has + forgotten the woman's look that gave him courage, or the man's sneer that braced + nerve and muscle to strike the first of many hard blows?</p> + <p>The depression which fell upon Orsino was lasting, for that morning at least. The + stupendous pageant went on before him, the choirs sang, the sweet boys' voices + answered back, like an angel's song, out of the lofty dome, the incense rose in + columns through the streaming sunlight as the high mass proceeded. Again the Pope was + raised upon the chair and borne out into the nave, whence in the solemn silence the + thin, clear, aged voice intoned the benediction three times, slowly rising and + falling, pausing and beginning again. Once more the enormous shout broke out, louder + and deeper than ever, as the procession moved away. Then all was over.</p> + <p>Orsino saw and heard, but the first impression was gone, and the thrill did not + come back.</p> + <p>"It was a fine sight," he said to his father, as the shout died away.</p> + <p>"A fine sight? Have you no stronger expression than that?"</p> + <p>"No," answered Orsino, "I have not."</p> + <p>The ladies were already coming out of the tribunes, and Orsino saw his father give + his arm to Corona to lead her through the crowd. Naturally enough, Maria Consuelo and + Donna Tullia came out together very soon after her. Orsino offered to pilot the + former through the confusion, and she accepted gratefully. Donna Tullia walked beside + them.</p> + <p>"You do not know me, Don Orsino," said she with a gracious smile.</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon—you are the Countess Del Ferice—I have not been + back from England long, and have not had an opportunity of being presented."</p> + <p>Whatever might be Orsino's weaknesses, shyness was certainly not one of them, and + as he made the civil answer he calmly looked at Donna Tullia as though to inquire + what in the world she wished to accomplish in making his acquaintance. He had been so + situated during the ceremony as not to see that the two ladies had fallen into + conversation.</p> + <p>"Will you introduce me?" said Maria Consuelo. "We have been talking together."</p> + <p>She spoke in a low voice, but the words could hardly have escaped Donna Tullia. + Orsino was very much surprised and not by any means pleased, for he saw that the + elder woman had forced the introduction by a rather vulgar trick. Nevertheless, he + could not escape.</p> + <p>"Since you have been good enough to recognise me," he said rather stiffly to Donna + Tullia, "permit me to make you acquainted with Madame d'Aranjuez d'Aragona."</p> + <p>Both ladies nodded and smiled the smile of the newly introduced. Donna Tullia at + once began to wonder how it was that a person with such a name should have but a + plain "Madame" to put before it. But her curiosity was not satisfied on this + occasion.</p> + <p>"How absurd society is!" she exclaimed. "Madame d'Aranjuez and I have been talking + all the morning, quite like old friends—and now we need an introduction!"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo glanced at Orsino as though, expecting him to make some remark. But + he said nothing.</p> + <p>"What should we do without conventions!" she said, for the sake of saying + something.</p> + <p>By this time they were threading the endless passages of the sacristy building, on + their way to the Piazza Santa, Marta. Sant' Ilario and Corona were not far in front + of them. At a turn in the corridor Corona looked back.</p> + <p>"There is Orsino talking to Tullia Del Ferice!" she exclaimed in great surprise. + "And he has given his arm to that other lady who was next to her in the tribune."</p> + <p>"What does it matter?" asked Sant' Ilario indifferently. "By the bye, the other + lady is that Madame d'Aranjuez he talks about."</p> + <p>"Is she any relation of your mother's family, Giovanni?"</p> + <p>"Not that I am aware of. She may have married some younger son of whom I never + heard."</p> + <p>"You do not seem to care whom Orsino knows," said Corona rather reproachfully.</p> + <p>"Orsino is grown up, dear. You must not forget that."</p> + <p>"Yes—I suppose he is," Corona answered with a little sigh. "But surely you + will not encourage him to cultivate the Del Ferice!"</p> + <p>"I fancy it would take a deal of encouragement to drive him to that," said Sant' + Ilario with a laugh. "He has better taste."</p> + <p>There was some confusion outside. People were waiting for their carriages, and as + most of them knew each other intimately every one was talking at once. Donna Tullia + nodded here and there, but Maria Consuelo noticed that her salutations were coldly + returned. Orsino and his two companions stood a little aloof from the crowd. Just + then the Saracinesca carriage drove up.</p> + <p>"Who is that magnificent woman?" asked Maria Consuelo, as Corona got in.</p> + <p>"My mother," said Orsino. "My father is getting in now."</p> + <p>"There comes my carriage! Please help me."</p> + <p>A modest hired brougham made its appearance. Orsino hoped that Madame d'Aranjuez + would offer him a seat. But he was mistaken.</p> + <p>"I am afraid mine is miles away," said Donna Tullia. "Good-bye, I shall be so glad + if you will come and see me." She held out her hand.</p> + <p>"May I not take you home?" asked Maria Consuelo. "There is just room—it will + be better than waiting here."</p> + <p>Donna Tullia hesitated a moment, and then accepted, to Orsino's great annoyance. + He helped the two ladies to get in, and shut the door.</p> + <p>"Come soon," said Maria Consuelo, giving him her hand out of the window.</p> + <p>He was inclined to be angry, but the look that accompanied the invitation did its + work satisfactorily.</p> + <p>"He is very young," thought Maria Consuelo, as she drove away.</p> + <p>"She can be very amusing. It is worth while," said Orsino to himself as he passed + in front of the next carriage, and walked out upon the small square.</p> + <p>He had not gone far, hindered as he was at every step, when some one touched his + arm. It was Spicca, looking more cadaverous and exhausted than usual.</p> + <p>"Are you going home in a cab?" he asked. "Then let us go together."</p> + <p>They got out of the square, scarcely knowing how they had accomplished the feat. + Spicca seemed nervous as well as tired, and he leaned on Orsino's arm.</p> + <p>"There was a chance lost this morning," said the latter when they were under the + colonnade. He felt sure of a bitter answer from the keen old man.</p> + <p>"Why did you not seize it then?" asked Spicca. "Do you expect old men like me to + stand up and yell for a republic, or a restoration, or a monarchy, or whichever of + the other seven plagues of Egypt you desire? I have not voice enough left to call a + cab, much less to howl down a kingdom."</p> + <p>"I wonder what would have happened, if I, or some one else, had tried."</p> + <p>"You would have spent the night in prison with a few kindred spirits. After all, + that would have been better than making love to old Donna Tullia and her young + friend."</p> + <p>Orsino laughed.</p> + <p>"You have good eyes," he said.</p> + <p>"So have you, Orsino. Use them. You will see something odd if you look where you + were looking this morning. Do you know what sort of a place this world is?"</p> + <p>"It is a dull place. I have found that out already."</p> + <p>"You are mistaken. It is hell. Do you mind calling that cab?"</p> + <p>Orsino stared a moment at his companion, and then hailed the passing + conveyance.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_VI" name='CHAPTER_VI'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino had shown less anxiety to see Madame d'Aranjuez than might perhaps have + been expected. In the ten days which had elapsed between the sitting at Gouache's + studio and the first of January he had only once made an attempt to find her at home, + and that attempt had failed. He had not even seen her passing in the street, and he + had not been conscious of any uncontrollable desire to catch a glimpse of her at any + price.</p> + <p>But he had not forgotten her existence as he would certainly have forgotten that + of a wholly indifferent person in the same time. On the contrary, he had thought of + her frequently and had indulged in many speculations concerning her, wondering among + other matters why he did not take more trouble to see her since she occupied his + thoughts so much. He did not know that he was in reality hesitating, for he would not + have acknowledged to himself that he could be in danger of falling seriously in love. + He was too young to admit such a possibility, and the character which he admired and + meant to assume was altogether too cold and superior to such weaknesses. To do him + justice, he was really not of the sort to fall in love at first sight. Persons + capable of a self-imposed dualism rarely are, for the second nature they build up on + the foundation of their own is never wholly artificial. The disposition to certain + modes of thought and habits of bearing is really present, as is sufficiently proved + by their admiration of both. Very shy persons, for instance, invariably admire very + self-possessed ones, and in trying to imitate them occasionally exhibit a + cold-blooded arrogance which is amazing. Timothy Titmouse secretly looks up to Don + Juan as his ideal, and after half a lifetime of failure outdoes his model, to the + horror of his friends. Dionysus masks as Hercules, and the fox is sometimes not + unsuccessful in his saint's disguise. Those who have been intimate with a great actor + know that the characters he plays best are not all assumed; there is a little of each + in his own nature. There is a touch of the real Othello in Salvini—there is + perhaps a strain of the melancholy Scandinavian in English Irving.</p> + <p>To be short, Orsino Saracinesca was too enthusiastic to be wholly cold, and too + thoughtful to be thoroughly enthusiastic. He saw things differently according to his + moods, and being dissatisfied, he tried to make one mood prevail constantly over the + other. In a mean nature the double view often makes an untruthful individual; in one + possessing honourable instincts it frequently leads to unhappiness. Affectation then + becomes aspiration and the man's failure to impose on others is forgotten in his + misery at failing to impose upon himself.</p> + <p>The few words Orsino had exchanged with Maria Consuelo on the morning of the great + ceremony recalled vividly the pleasant hour he had spent with her ten days earlier, + and he determined to see her as soon as possible. He was out of conceit with himself + and consequently with all those who knew him, and he looked forward with pleasure to + the conversation of an attractive woman who could have no preconceived opinion of + him, and who could take him at his own estimate. He was curious, too, to find out + something more definite in regard to her. She was mysterious, and the mystery pleased + him. She had admitted that her deceased husband had spoken of being connected with + the Saracinesca, but he could not discover where the relationship lay. Spicca's very + odd remark, too, seemed to point to her, in some way which Orsino could not + understand, and he remembered her having said that she had heard of Spicca. Her + husband had doubtless been an Italian of Spanish descent, but she had given no clue + to her own nationality, and she did not look Spanish, in spite of her name, Maria + Consuelo. As no one in Rome knew her it was impossible to get any information + whatever. It was all very interesting.</p> + <p>Accordingly, late on the afternoon of the second of January, Orsino called and was + led to the door of a small sitting-room on the second floor of the hotel. The servant + shut the door behind him and Orsino found himself alone. A lamp with a pretty shade + was burning on the table and beside it an ugly blue glass vase contained a few + flowers, common roses, but fresh and fragrant. Two or three new books in yellow paper + covers lay scattered upon the hideous velvet table cloth, and beside one of them + Orsino noticed a magnificent paper cutter of chiselled silver, bearing a large + monogram done in brilliants and rubies. The thing contrasted oddly with its + surroundings and attracted the light. An easy chair was drawn up to the table, an + abominable object covered with perfectly new yellow satin. A small red morocco + cushion, of the kind used in travelling, was balanced on the back, and there was a + depression in it, as though some one's head had lately rested there.</p> + <p>Orsino noticed all these details as he stood waiting for Madame d'Aranjuez to + appear, and they were not without interest to him, for each one told a story, and the + stories were contradictory. The room was not encumbered with those numberless objects + which most women scatter about them within an hour after reaching a hotel. Yet Madame + d'Aranjuez must have been at least a month in Rome. The room smelt neither of perfume + nor of cigarettes, but of the roses, which was better, and a little of the lamp, + which was much worse. The lady's only possessions seemed to be three books, a + travelling cushion and a somewhat too gorgeous paper cutter; and these few objects + were perfectly new. He glanced at the books; they were of the latest, and only one + had been cut. The cushion might have been bought that morning. Not a breath had + tarnished the polished blade of the silver knife.</p> + <p>A door opened softly and Orsino drew himself up as some one pushed in the heavy, + vivid curtains. But it was not Madame d'Aranjuez. A small dark woman of middle age, + with downcast eyes and exceedingly black hair, came forward a step.</p> + <p>"The signora will come presently," she said in Italian, in a very low voice, as + though she were almost afraid of hearing herself speak.</p> + <p>She was gone in a moment, as noiselessly as she had come. This was evidently the + silent maid of whom Gouache had spoken. The few words she had spoken had revealed to + Orsino the fact that she was an Italian from the north, for she had the unmistakable + accent of the Piedmontese, whose own language is comprehensible only by + themselves.</p> + <p>Orsino prepared to wait some time, supposing that the message could hardly have + been sent without an object. But another minute had not elapsed before Maria Consuelo + herself appeared. In the soft lamplight her clear white skin looked very pale and her + auburn hair almost red. She wore one of those nondescript garments which we have + elected to call tea-gowns, and Orsino, who had learned to criticise dress as he had + learned Latin grammar, saw that the tea-gown was good and the lace real. The colours + produced no impression upon him whatever. As a matter of fact they were dark, being + combined in various shades of olive.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo looked at her visitor and held out her hand, but said nothing. She + did not even smile, and Orsino began to fancy that he had chosen an unfortunate + moment for his visit.</p> + <p>"It was very good of you to let me come," he said, waiting for her to sit + down.</p> + <p>Still she said nothing. She placed the red morocco cushion carefully in the + particular position which would be most comfortable, turned the shade of the lamp a + little, which, of course, produced no change whatever in the direction of the light, + pushed one of the books half across the table and at last sat down in the easy chair. + Orsino sat down near her, holding his hat upon his knee. He wondered whether she had + heard him speak, or whether she might not be one of those people who are painfully + shy when there is no third person present.</p> + <p>"I think it was very good of you to come," she said at last, when she was + comfortably settled.</p> + <p>"I wish goodness were always so easy," answered Orsino with alacrity.</p> + <p>"Is it your ambition to be good?" asked Maria Consuelo with a smile.</p> + <p>"It should be. But it is not a career."</p> + <p>"Then you do not believe in Saints?"</p> + <p>"Not until they are canonised and made articles of belief—unless you are + one, Madame."</p> + <p>"I have thought of trying it," answered Maria Consuelo, calmly. "Saintship is a + career, even in society, whatever you may say to the contrary. It has attractions, + after all."</p> + <p>"Not equal to those of the other side. Every one admits that. The majority is + evidently in favour of sin, and if we are to believe in modern institutions, we must + believe that majorities are right."</p> + <p>"Then the hero is always wrong, for he is the enthusiastic individual who is + always for facing odds, and if no one disagrees with him he is very unhappy. Yet + there are heroes—"</p> + <p>"Where?" asked Orsino. "The heroes people talk of ride bronze horses on + inaccessible pedestals. When the bell rings for a revolution they are all knocked + down and new ones are set up in their places—also executed by the best + artists—and the old ones are cast into cannon to knock to pieces the ideas they + invented. That is called history."</p> + <p>"You take a cheerful and encouraging view of the world's history, Don Orsino."</p> + <p>"The world is made for us, and we must accept it. But we may criticise it. There + is nothing to the contrary in the contract."</p> + <p>"In the social contract? Are you going to talk to me about Jean-Jacques?"</p> + <p>"Have you read him, Madame?"</p> + <p>"'No woman who respects herself—'" began Maria Consuelo, quoting the famous + preface.</p> + <p>"I see that you have," said Orsino, with a laugh. "I have not."</p> + <p>"Nor I."</p> + <p>To Orsino's surprise, Madame d'Aranjuez blushed. He could not have told why he was + pleased, nor why her change of colour seemed so unexpected.</p> + <p>"Speaking of history," he said, after a very slight pause, "why did you thank me + yesterday for having got you a card?"</p> + <p>"Did you not speak to Gouache about it?"</p> + <p>"I said something—I forget what. Did he manage it?"</p> + <p>"Of course. I had his wife's place. She could not go. Do you dislike being thanked + for your good offices? Are you so modest as that?"</p> + <p>"Not in the least, but I hate misunderstandings, though I will get all the credit + I can for what I have not done, like other people. When I saw that you knew the Del + Ferice, I thought that perhaps she had been exerting herself."</p> + <p>"Why do you hate her so?" asked Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"I do not hate her. She does not exist—that is all."</p> + <p>"Why does she not exist, as you call it? She is a very good-natured woman. Tell me + the truth. Everybody hates her—I saw that by the way they bowed to her while we + were waiting—why? There must be a reason. Is she a—an incorrect + person?"</p> + <p>Orsino laughed.</p> + <p>"No. That is the point at which existence is more likely to begin than to + end."</p> + <p>"How cynical you are! I do not like that. Tell me about Madame Del Ferice."</p> + <p>"Very well. To begin with, she is a relation of mine."</p> + <p>"Seriously?"</p> + <p>"Seriously. Of course that gives me a right to handle the whole dictionary of + abuse against her."</p> + <p>"Of course. Are you going to do that?"</p> + <p>"No. You would call me cynical. I do not like you to call me by bad names, + Madame."</p> + <p>"I had an idea that men liked it," observed Maria Consuelo gravely.</p> + <p>"One does not like to hear disagreeable truths."</p> + <p>"Then it is the truth? Go on. You have forgotten what we were talking about."</p> + <p>"Not at all Donna Tullia, my second, third or fourth cousin, was married once upon + a time to a certain Mayer."</p> + <p>"And left him. How interesting!"</p> + <p>"No, Madame. He left her—very suddenly, I believe—for another world. + Better or worse? Who can say? Considering his past life, worse, I suppose; but + considering that he was not obliged to take Donna Tullia with him, decidedly + better."</p> + <p>"You certainly hate her. Then she married Del Ferice."</p> + <p>"Then she married Del Ferice—before I was born. She is fabulously old. Mayer + left her very rich, and without conditions. Del Ferice was an impossible person. My + father nearly killed him in a duel once—also before I was born. I never knew + what it was about. Del Ferice was a spy, in the old days when spies got a living in a + Rome—"</p> + <p>"Ah! I see it all now!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo. "Del Ferice is white, and you + are black. Of course you hate each other. You need not tell me any more."</p> + <p>"How you take that for granted!"</p> + <p>"Is it not perfectly clear? Do not talk to me of like and dislike when your + dreadful parties have anything to do with either! Besides, if I had any sympathy with + either side it would be for the whites. But the whole thing is absurd, complicated, + mediaeval, feudal—anything you like except sensible. Your intolerance + is—intolerable."</p> + <p>"True tolerance should tolerate even intolerance," observed Orsino smartly.</p> + <p>"That sounds like one of the puzzles of pronunciation like 'in un piatto poco cupo + poco pepe pisto cape,'" laughed Maria Consuelo. "Tolerably tolerable tolerance + tolerates tolerable tolerance intolerably—"</p> + <p>"You speak Italian?" asked Orsino, surprised by her glib enunciation of the + difficult sentence she had quoted. "Why are we talking a foreign language?"</p> + <p>"I cannot really speak Italian. I have an Italian maid, who speaks French. But she + taught me that puzzle."</p> + <p>"It is odd—your maid is a Piedmontese and you have a good accent."</p> + <p>"Have I? I am very glad. But tell me, is it not absurd that you should hate these + people as you do—you cannot deny it—merely because they are whites?"</p> + <p>"Everything in life is absurd if you take the opposite point of view. Lunatics + find endless amusement in watching sane people."</p> + <p>"And of course, you are the sane people," observed Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"Of course."</p> + <p>"What becomes of me? I suppose I do not exist? You would not be rude enough to + class me with the lunatics."</p> + <p>"Certainly not. You will of course choose to be a black."</p> + <p>"In order to be discontented, as you are?"</p> + <p>"Discontented?"</p> + <p>"Yes. Are you not utterly out of sympathy with your surroundings? Are you not + hampered at every step by a network of traditions which have no meaning to your + intelligence, but which are laid on you like a harness upon a horse, and in which you + are driven your daily little round of tiresome amusement—or dissipation? Do you + not hate the Corso as an omnibus horse hates it? Do you not really hate the very + faces of all those people who effectually prevent you from using your own + intelligence, your own strength—your own heart? One sees it in your face. You + are too young to be tired of life. No, I am not going to call you a boy, though I am + older than you, Don Orsino. You will find people enough in your own surroundings to + call you a boy—because you are not yet so utterly tamed and wearied as they + are, and for no other reason. You are a man. I do not know your age, but you do not + talk as boys do. You are a man—then be a man altogether, be + independent—use your hands for something better than throwing mud at other + people's houses merely because they are new!"</p> + <p>Orsino looked at her in astonishment. This was certainly not the sort of + conversation he had anticipated when he had entered the room.</p> + <p>"You are surprised because I speak like this," she said after a short pause. "You + are a Saracinesca and I am—a stranger, here to-day and gone to-morrow, whom you + will probably never see again. It is amusing, is it not? Why do you not laugh?"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo smiled and as usual her strong red lips closed as soon as she had + finished speaking, a habit which lent the smile something unusual, half-mysterious, + and self-contained.</p> + <p>"I see nothing to laugh at," answered Orsino. "Did the mythological personage + whose name I have forgotten laugh when the sphynx proposed the riddle to him?"</p> + <p>"That is the third time within the last few days that I have been compared to a + sphynx by you or Gouache. It lacks originality in the end."</p> + <p>"I was not thinking of being original. I was too much interested. Your riddle is + the problem of my life."</p> + <p>"The resemblance ceases there. I cannot eat you up if you do not guess the + answer—or if you do not take my advice. I am not prepared to go so far as + that."</p> + <p>"Was it advice? It sounded more like a question."</p> + <p>"I would not ask one when I am sure of getting no answer. Besides, I do not like + being laughed at."</p> + <p>"What has that to do with the matter? Why imagine anything so impossible?"</p> + <p>"After all—perhaps it is more foolish to say, 'I advise you to do so and + so,' than to ask, 'Why do you not do so and so?' Advice is always disagreeable and + the adviser is always more or less ridiculous. Advice brings its own punishment."</p> + <p>"Is that not cynical?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"No. Why? What is the worst thing you can do to your social enemy? Prevail upon + him to give you his counsel, act upon it—it will of course turn out + badly—then say, "I feared this would happen, but as you advised me I did not + like—" and so on! That is simple and always effectual. Try it."</p> + <p>"Not for worlds!"</p> + <p>"I did not mean with me," answered Maria Consuelo with a laugh.</p> + <p>"No. I am afraid there are other reasons which will prevent me from making a + career for myself," said Orsino thoughtfully.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo saw by his face that the subject was a serious one with him, as she + had already guessed that it must be, and one which would always interest him. She + therefore let it drop, keeping it in reserve in case the conversation flagged.</p> + <p>"I am going to see Madame Del Ferice to-morrow," she observed, changing the + subject.</p> + <p>"Do you think that is necessary?"</p> + <p>"Since I wish it! I have not your reasons for avoiding her."</p> + <p>"I offended you the other day, Madame, did I not? You remember—when I + offered my services in a social way."</p> + <p>"No—you amused me," answered Maria Consuelo coolly, and watching to see how + he would take the rebuke.</p> + <p>But, young as Orsino was, he was a match for her in self-possession.</p> + <p>"I am very glad," he answered without a trace of annoyance. "I feared you were + displeased."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo smiled again, and her momentary coldness vanished. The answer + delighted her, and did more to interest her in Orsino than fifty clever sayings could + have done. She resolved to push the question a little further.</p> + <p>"I will be frank," she said.</p> + <p>"It is always best," answered Orsino, beginning to suspect that something very + tortuous was coming. His disbelief in phrases of the kind, though originally + artificial, was becoming profound.</p> + <p>"Yes, I will be quite frank," she repeated. "You do not wish me to know the Del + Ferice and their set, and you do wish me to know the people you like."</p> + <p>"Evidently."</p> + <p>"Why should I not do as I please?"</p> + <p>She was clearly trying to entrap him into a foolish answer, and he grew more and + more wary.</p> + <p>"It would be very strange if you did not," answered Orsino without hesitation.</p> + <p>"Why, again?"</p> + <p>"Because you are absolutely free to make your own choice."</p> + <p>"And if my choice does not meet with your approval?" she asked.</p> + <p>"What can I say, Madame? I and my friends will be the losers, not you."</p> + <p>Orsino had kept his temper admirably, and he did not suffer a hasty word to escape + his lips nor a shadow of irritation to appear in his face. Yet she had pressed him in + a way which was little short of rude. She was silent for a few seconds, during which + Orsino watched her face as she turned it slightly away from him and from the lamp. In + reality he was wondering why she was not more communicative about herself, and + speculating as to whether her silence in that quarter proceeded from the + consciousness of a perfectly assured position in the world, or from the fact that she + had something to conceal; and this idea led him to congratulate himself upon not + having been obliged to act immediately upon his first proposal by bringing about an + acquaintance between Madame d'Aranjuez and his mother. This uncertainty lent a spice + of interest to the acquaintance. He knew enough of the world already to be sure that + Maria Consuelo was born and bred in that state of life to which it has pleased + Providence to call the social elect. But the peculiar people sometimes do strange + things and afterwards establish themselves in foreign cities where their doings are + not likely to be known for some time. Not that Orsino cared what this particular + stranger's past might have been. But he knew that his mother would care very much + indeed, if Orsino wished her to know the mysterious lady, and would sift the matter + very thoroughly before asking her to the Palazzo Saracinesca. Donna Tullia, on the + other hand, had committed herself to the acquaintance on her own responsibility, + evidently taking it for granted that if Orsino knew Madame d'Aranjuez, the latter + must be socially irreproachable. It amused Orsino to imagine the fat countess's rage + if she turned out to have made a mistake.</p> + <p>"I shall be the loser too," said Maria Consuelo, in a different tone, "if I make a + bad choice. But I cannot draw back. I took her to her house in my carriage. She + seemed to take a fancy to me—" she laughed a little.</p> + <p>Orsino smiled as though to imply that the circumstance did not surprise him.</p> + <p>"And she said she would come to see me. As a stranger I could not do less than + insist upon making the first visit, and I named the day—or rather she did. I am + going to-morrow."</p> + <p>"To-morrow? Tuesday is her day. You will meet all her friends."</p> + <p>"Do you mean to say that people still have days in Rome?" Maria Consuelo did not + look pleased.</p> + <p>"Some people do—very few. Most people prefer to be at home one evening in + the week."</p> + <p>"What sort of people are Madame Del Ferice's friends?"</p> + <p>"Excellent people."</p> + <p>"Why are you so cautious?"</p> + <p>"Because you are about to be one of them, Madame."</p> + <p>"Am I? No, I will not begin another catechism! You are too clever—I shall + never get a direct answer from you."</p> + <p>"Not in that way," answered Orsino with a frankness that made his companion + smile.</p> + <p>"How then?"</p> + <p>"I think you would know how," he replied gravely, and he fixed his young black + eyes on her with an expression that made her half close her own.</p> + <p>"I should think you would make a good actor," she said softly.</p> + <p>"Provided that I might be allowed to be sincere between the acts."</p> + <p>"That sounds well. A little ambiguous perhaps. Your sincerity might or might not + take the same direction as the part you had been acting."</p> + <p>"That would depend entirely upon yourself, Madame."</p> + <p>This time Maria Consuelo opened her eyes instead of closing them.</p> + <p>"You do not lack—what shall I say? A certain assurance—you do not + waste time!"</p> + <p>She laughed merrily, and Orsino laughed with her.</p> + <p>"We are between the acts now," he said. "The curtain goes up to-morrow, and you + join the enemy."</p> + <p>"Come with me, then."</p> + <p>"In your carriage? I shall be enchanted."</p> + <p>"No. You know I do not mean that. Come with me to the enemy's camp. It will be + very amusing."</p> + <p>Orsino shook his head.</p> + <p>"I would rather die—if possible at your feet, Madame."</p> + <p>"Are you afraid to call upon Madame Del Ferice?"</p> + <p>"More than of death itself."</p> + <p>"How can you say that?"</p> + <p>"The conditions of the life to come are doubtful—there might be a chance for + me. There is no doubt at all as to what would happen if I went to see Madame Del + Ferice."</p> + <p>"Is your father so severe with you?" asked Maria Consuelo with a little scorn.</p> + <p>"Alas, Madame, I am not sensitive to ridicule," answered Orsino, quite unmoved. "I + grant that there is something wanting in my character."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo had hoped to find a weak point, and had failed, though indeed there + were many in the young man's armour. She was a little annoyed, both at her own lack + of judgment and because it would have amused her to see Orsino in an element so + unfamiliar to him as that in which Donna Tullia lived.</p> + <p>"And there is nothing which would induce you to go there?" she asked.</p> + <p>"At present—nothing," Orsino answered coldly.</p> + <p>"At present—but in the future of all possible possibilities?"</p> + <p>"I shall undoubtedly go there. It is only the unforeseen which invariably + happens."</p> + <p>"I think so too."</p> + <p>"Of course. I will illustrate the proverb by bidding you good evening," said + Orsino, laughing as he rose. "By this time the conviction must have formed itself in + your mind that I was never going. The unforeseen happens. I go."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo would have been glad if he had stayed even longer, for he amused + her and interested her, and she did not look forward with pleasure to the lonely + evening she was to spend in the hotel.</p> + <p>"I am generally at home at this hour," she said, giving him her hand.</p> + <p>"Then, if you will allow me? Thanks. Good evening, Madame."</p> + <p>Their eyes met for a moment, and then Orsino left the room. As he lit his + cigarette in the porch of the hotel, he said to himself that he had not wasted his + hour, and he was pleasantly conscious of tha inward and spiritual satisfaction which + every very young man feels when he is aware of having appeared at his best in the + society of a woman alone. Youth without vanity is only premature old age after + all.</p> + <p>"She is certainly more than pretty," he said to himself, affecting to be critical + when he was indeed convinced. "Her mouth is fabulous, but it is well shaped and the + rest is perfect—no, the nose is insignificant, and one of those yellow eyes + wanders a little. These are not perfections. But what does it matter? The whole is + charming, whatever the parts may be. I wish she would not go to that horrible fat + woman's tea to-morrow."</p> + <p>Such were the observations which Orsino thought fit to make to himself, but which + by no means represented all that he felt, for they took no notice whatever of that + extreme satisfaction at having talked well with Maria Consuelo, which in reality + dominated every other sensation just then. He was well enough accustomed to + consideration, though his only taste of society had been enjoyed during the winter + vacations of the last two years. He was not the greatest match in the Roman + matrimonial market for nothing, and he was perfectly well aware of his advantages in + this respect. He possessed that keen, business-like appreciation of his value as a + marriageable man which seems to characterise the young generation of to-day, and he + was not mistaken in his estimate. It was made sufficiently clear to him at every turn + that he had but to ask in order to receive. But he had not the slightest intention of + marrying at one and twenty as several of his old school-fellows were doing, and he + was sensible enough to foresee that his position as a desirable son-in-law would soon + cause him more annoyance than amusement.</p> + <p>Madame d'Aranjuez was doubtless aware that she could not marry him if she wished + to do so. She was several years older than he—he admitted the fact rather + reluctantly—she was a widow, and she seemed to have no particular social + position. These were excellent reasons against matrimony, but they were also equally + excellent reasons for being pleased with himself at having produced a favourable + impression on her.</p> + <p>He walked rapidly along the crowded street, glancing carelessly at the people who + passed and at the brilliantly lighted windows of the shops. He passed the door of the + club, where he was already becoming known for rather reckless play, and he quite + forgot that a number of men were probably spending an hour at the tables before + dinner, a fact which would hardly have escaped his memory if he had not been more + than usually occupied with pleasant thoughts. He did not need the excitement of + baccarat nor the stimulus of brandy and soda, for his brain was already both excited + and stimulated, though he was not at once aware of it. But it became clear to him + when he suddenly found himself standing before the steps of the Capitol in the gloomy + square of the Ara Coeli, wondering what in the world had brought him so far out of + his way.</p> + <p>"What a fool I am!" he exclaimed impatiently, as he turned back and walked in the + direction of his home. "And yet she told me that I would make a good actor. They say + that an actor should never be carried away by his part."</p> + <p>At dinner that evening he was alternately talkative and very silent.</p> + <p>"Where have you been to-day, Orsino?" asked his father, looking at him + curiously.</p> + <p>"I spent half an hour with Madame d'Aranjuez, and then went for a walk," answered + Orsino with sudden indifference.</p> + <p>"What is she like?" asked Corona.</p> + <p>"Clever—at least in Rome." There was an odd, nervous sharpness about the + answer.</p> + <p>Old Saracinesca raised his keen eyes without lifting his head and looked hard at + his grandson. He was a little bent in his great old age.</p> + <p>"The boy is in love!" he exclaimed abruptly, and a laugh that was still deep and + ringing followed the words. Orsino recovered his self-possession and smiled + carelessly.</p> + <p>Corona was thoughtful during the remainder of the meal.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_VII" name='CHAPTER_VII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>The Princess Sant' Ilario's early life had been deeply stirred by the great makers + of human character, sorrow and happiness. She had suffered profoundly, she had borne + her trials with a rare courage, and her reward, if one may call it so, had been very + great. She had seen the world and known it well, and the knowledge had not been + forgotten in the peaceful prosperity of later years. Gifted with a beauty not + equalled, perhaps, in those times, endowed with a strong and passionate nature under + a singularly cold and calm outward manner, she had been saved from many dangers by + the rarest of commonplace qualities, common sense. She had never passed for an + intellectual person, she had never been very brilliant in conversation, she had even + been thought old-fashioned in her prejudices concerning the books she read. But her + judgment had rarely failed her at critical moments. Once only, she remembered having + committed a great mistake, of which the sudden and unexpected consequences had almost + wrecked her life. But in that case she had suffered her heart to lead her, an + innocent girl's good name had been at stake, and she had rashly taken a + responsibility too heavy for love itself to bear. Those days were long past now; + twenty years separated Corona, the mother of four tall sons, from the Corona who had + risked all to save poor little Faustina Montevarchi.</p> + <p>But even she knew that a state of such perpetual and unclouded happiness could + hardly last a lifetime, and she had forced herself, almost laughing at the thought, + to look forward to the day when Orsino must cease to be a boy and must face the world + of strong loves and hates through which most men have to pass, and which all men must + have known in order to be men indeed.</p> + <p>The people whose lives are full of the most romantic incidents, are not generally, + I think, people of romantic disposition. Romance, like power, will come uncalled for, + and those who seek it most, are often those who find it least. And the reason is + simple enough. The man of heart is not perpetually burrowing in his surroundings for + affections upon which his heart may feed, any more than the very strong man is + naturally impelled to lift every weight he sees or to fight with every man he meets. + The persons whom others call romantic are rarely conscious of being so. They are + generally far too much occupied with the one great thought which make their + strongest, bravest and meanest actions seem perfectly commonplace to themselves. + Corona Del Carmine, who had heroically sacrificed herself in her earliest girlhood to + save her father from ruin and who a few years later had risked a priceless happiness + to shield a foolish girl, had not in her whole life been conscious of a single + romantic instinct. Brave, devoted, but unimaginative by nature, she had followed her + heart's direction in most worldly matters.</p> + <p>She was amazed to find that she was becoming romantic now, in her dreams for + Orsino's future. All sorts of ideas which she would have laughed at in her own youth + flitted through her brain from morning till night. Her fancy built up a life for her + eldest son, which she knew to be far from the possibility of realisation, but which + had for her a new and strange attraction.</p> + <p>She planned for him the most unimaginable happiness, of a kind which would perhaps + have hardly satisfied his more modern instincts. She saw a maiden of indescribable + beauty, brought up in unapproachable perfections, guarded by the all but insuperable + jealousy of an ideal home. Orsino was to love this vision, and none other, from the + first meeting to the term of his natural life, and was to win her in the face or + difficulties such as would have made even Giovanni, the incomparable, look grave. + This radiant creature was also to love Orsino, as a matter of course, with a love + vastly more angelic than human, but not hastily nor thoughtlessly, lest Orsino should + get her too easily and not value her as he ought. Then she saw the two betrothed, + side by side on shady lawns and moonlit terraces, in a perfectly beautiful intimacy + such as they would certainly never enjoy in the existing conditions of their own + society. But that mattered little. The wooing, the winning and the marrying of the + exquisite girl were to make up Orsino's life, and fifty or sixty years of idyllic + happiness were to be the reward of their mutual devotion. Had she not spent twenty + such years herself? Then why should not all the rest be possible?</p> + <p>The dreams came and went and she was too sensible not to laugh at them. That was + not the youth of Giovanni, her husband, nor of men who even faintly resembled him in + her estimation. Giovanni had wandered far, had seen much, and had undoubtedly + indulged more than one passing affection, before he had been thirty years of age and + had loved Corona. Giovanni would laugh too, if she told him of her vision of two + young and beautiful married saints. And his laugh would be more sincere than her own. + Nevertheless, her dreams haunted her, as they have haunted many a loving mother, ever + since Althaea plucked from the flame the burning brand that measured Meleager's life, + and smothered the sparks upon it and hid it away among her treasures.</p> + <p>Such things seem foolish, no doubt, in the measure of fact, in the glaring light + of our day. The thought is none the less noble. The dream of an untainted love, the + vision of unspotted youth and pure maiden, the glory of unbroken faith kept whole by + man and wife in holy wedlock, the pride of stainless name and stainless + race—these things are not less high because there is a sublimity in the + strength of a great sin which may lie the closer to our sympathy, as the sinning is + the nearer to our weakness.</p> + <p>When old Saracinesca looked up from under his bushy brows and laughed and said + that his grandson was in love, he thought no more of what he said than if he had + remarked that Orsino's beard was growing or that Giovanni's was turning grey. But + Corona's pretty fancies received a shock from which they never recovered again, and + though she did her best to call them back they lost all their reality from that hour. + The plain fact that at one and twenty years the boy is a man, though a very young + one, was made suddenly clear to her, and she was faced by another fact still more + destructive of her ideals, namely, that a man is not to be kept from falling in love, + when and where he is so inclined, by any personal influence whatsoever. She knew that + well enough, and the supposition that his first young passion might be for Madame + d'Aranjuez was by no means comforting. Corona immediately felt an interest in that + lady which she had not felt before and which was not altogether friendly.</p> + <p>It seemed to her necessary in the first place to find out something definite + concerning Maria Consuelo, and this was no easy matter. She communicated her wish to + her husband when they were alone that evening.</p> + <p>"I know nothing about her," answered Giovanni. "And I do not know any one who + does. After all it is of very little importance."</p> + <p>"What if he falls seriously in love with this woman?"</p> + <p>"We will send him round the world. At his age that will cure anything. When he + comes back Madame d'Aranjuez will have retired to the chaos of the unknown out of + which Orsino has evolved her."</p> + <p>"She does not look the kind of woman to disappear at the right moment," observed + Corona doubtfully.</p> + <p>Giovanni was at that moment supremely comfortable, both in mind and body. It was + late. The old prince had gone to his own quarters, the boys were in bed, and Orsino + was presumably at a party or at the club. Sant' Ilario was enjoying the delight of + spending an hour alone in his wife's society. They were in Corona's old boudoir, a + place full of associations for them both. He did not want to be mentally disturbed. + He said nothing in answer to his wife's remark. She repeated it in a different + form.</p> + <p>"Women like her do not disappear when one does not want them," she said.</p> + <p>"What makes you think so?" inquired Giovanni with a man's irritating indolence + when he does not mean to grasp a disagreeable idea.</p> + <p>"I know it," Corona answered, resting her chin upon her hand and staring at the + fire.</p> + <p>Giovanni surrendered unconditionally.</p> + <p>"You are probably right, dear. You always are about people."</p> + <p>"Well—then you must see the importance of what I say," said Corona pushing + her victory.</p> + <p>"Of course, of course," answered Giovanni, squinting at the flames with one eye + between his outstretched fingers.</p> + <p>"I wish you would wake up!" exclaimed Corona, taking the hand in hers and drawing + it to her. "Orsino is probably making love to Madame d'Aranjuez at this very + moment."</p> + <p>"Then I will imitate him, and make love to you, my dear. I could not be better + occupied, and you know it. You used to say I did it very well."</p> + <p>Corona laughed in her deep, soft voice.</p> + <p>"Orsino is like you. That is what frightens me. He will make love too well. Be + serious, Giovanni. Think of what I am saying."</p> + <p>"Let us dismiss the question then, for the simple reason that there is absolutely + nothing to be done. We cannot turn this good woman out of Rome, and we cannot lock + Orsino up in his room. To tell a boy not to bestow his affections in a certain + quarter is like ramming a charge into a gun and then expecting that it will not come + out by the same way. The harder you ram it down the more noise it makes—that is + all. Encourage him and he may possibly tire of it. Hinder him and he will become + inconveniently heroic."</p> + <p>"I suppose that is true," said Corona. "Then at least find out who the woman is," + she added, after a pause.</p> + <p>"I will try," Giovanni answered. "I will even go to the length of spending an hour + a day at the club, if that will do any good—and you know how I detest clubs. + But if anything whatever is known of her, it will be known there."</p> + <p>Giovanni kept his word and expended more energy in attempting to find out + something about Madame d'Aranjuez during the next few days than he had devoted to + anything connected with society for a long time. Nearly a week elapsed before his + efforts met with any success.</p> + <p>He was in the club one afternoon at an early hour, reading the papers, and not + more than three or four other men were present. Among them were Frangipani and + Montevarchi, who was formerly known as Ascanio Bellegra. There was also a certain + young foreigner, a diplomatist, who, like Sant' Ilario, was reading a paper, most + probably in search of an idea for the next visit on his list.</p> + <p>Giovanni suddenly came upon a description of a dinner and reception given by Del + Ferice and his wife. The paragraph was written in the usual florid style with a fine + generosity in the distribution of titles to unknown persons.</p> + <p>"The centre of all attraction," said the reporter, "was a most beautiful Spanish + princess, Donna Maria Consuelo d'A——z d'A——a, in whose + mysterious eyes are reflected the divine fires of a thousand triumphs, and who was + gracefully attired in olive green brocade—"</p> + <p>"Oh! Is that it?" said Sant' Ilario aloud, and in the peculiar tone always used by + a man who makes a discovery in a daily paper.</p> + <p>"What is it?" inquired Frangipani and Montevarchi in the same breath. The young + diplomatist looked up with an air of interrogation.</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario read the paragraph aloud. All three listened as though the fate of + empires depended on the facts reported.</p> + <p>"Just like the newspapers!" exclaimed Frangipani. "There probably is no such + person. Is there, Ascanio?"</p> + <p>Montevarchi had always been a weak fellow, and was reported to be at present very + deep in the building speculations of the day. But there was one point upon which he + justly prided himself. He was a superior authority on genealogy. It was his passion + and no one ever disputed his knowledge or decision. He stroked his fair beard, looked + out of the window, winked his pale blue eyes once or twice and then gave his + verdict.</p> + <p>"There is no such person," he said gravely.</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon, prince," said the young diplomatist, "I have met her. She + exists."</p> + <p>"My dear friend," answered Montevarchi, "I do not doubt the existence of the + woman, as such, and I would certainly not think of disagreeing with you, even if I + had the slightest ground for doing so, which, I hasten to say, I have not. Nor, of + course, if she is a friend of yours, would I like to say more on the subject. But I + have taken some little interest in genealogy and I have a modest library—about + two thousand volumes, only—consisting solely of works on the subject, all of + which I have read and many of which I have carefully annotated. I need not say that + they are all at your disposal if you should desire to make any researches."</p> + <p>Montevarchi had much of his murdered father's manner, without the old man's + strength. The young secretary of embassy was rather startled at the idea of searching + through two thousand volumes in pursuit of Madame d'Aranjuez's identity. Sant' Ilario + laughed.</p> + <p>"I only mean that I have met the lady," said the young man. "Of course you are + right. I have no idea who she may really be. I have heard odd stories about her."</p> + <p>"Oh—have you?" asked Sant' Ilario with renewed interest.</p> + <p>"Yes, very odd." He paused and looked round the room to assure himself that no one + else was present. "There are two distinct stories about her. The first is this. They + say that she is a South American prima donna, who sang only a few months, at Rio de + Janeiro and then at Buenos Ayres. An Italian who had gone out there and made a + fortune married her from the stage. In coming to Europe, he unfortunately fell + overboard and she inherited all his money. People say that she was the only person + who witnessed the accident. The man's name was Aragno. She twisted it once and made + Aranjuez of it, and she turned it again and discovered that it spelled Aragona. That + is the first story. It sounds well at all events."</p> + <p>"Very," said Sant' Ilario, with a laugh.</p> + <p>"A profoundly interesting page in genealogy, if she happens to marry somebody," + observed Montevarchi, mentally noting all the facts.</p> + <p>"What is the other story?" asked Frangipani.</p> + <p>"The other story is much less concise and detailed. According to this version, she + is the daughter of a certain royal personage and of a Polish countess. There is + always a Polish countess in those stories! She was never married. The royal personage + has had her educated in a convent and has sent her out into the wide world with a + pretty fancy name of his own invention, plentifully supplied with money and regular + documents referring to her union with the imaginary Aranjuez, and protected by a sort + of body-guard of mutes and duennas who never appear in public. She is of course to + make a great match for herself, and has come to Rome to do it. That is also a pretty + tale."</p> + <p>"More interesting than the other," said Montevarchi. "These side lights of + genealogy, these stray rivulets of royal races, if I may so poetically call them, + possess an absorbing interest for the student. I will make a note of it."</p> + <p>"Of course, I do not vouch for the truth of a single word in either story," + observed the young man. "Of the two the first is the less improbable. I have met her + and talked to her and she is certainly not less than five and twenty years old. She + may be more. In any case she is too old to have been just let out of a convent."</p> + <p>"Perhaps she has been loose for some years," observed Sant' Ilario, speaking of + her as though she were a dangerous wild animal.</p> + <p>"We should have heard of her," objected the other. "She has the sort of + personality which is noticed anywhere and which makes itself felt."</p> + <p>"Then you incline to the belief that she dropped the Signor Aragno quietly + overboard in the neighbourhood of the equator?"</p> + <p>"The real story may be quite different from either of those I have told you."</p> + <p>"And she is a friend of poor old Donna Tullia!" exclaimed Montevarchi regretfully. + "I am sorry for that. For the sake of her history I could almost have gone to the + length of making her acquaintance."</p> + <p>"How the Del Ferice would rave if she could hear you call her poor old Donna + Tullia," observed Frangipani. "I remember how she danced at the ball when I came of + age!"</p> + <p>"That was a long time ago, Filippo," said Montevarchi thoughtfully, "a very long + time ago. We were all young once, Filippo—but Donna Tullia is really only fit + to fill a glass case in a museum of natural history now."</p> + <p>The remark was not original, and had been in circulation some time. But the three + men laughed a little and Montevarchi was much pleased by their appreciation. He and + Frangipani began to talk together, and Sant' Ilario took up his paper again. When the + young diplomatist laid his own aside and went out, Giovanni followed him, and they + left the club together.</p> + <p>"Have you any reason to believe that there is anything irregular about this Madame + d'Aranjuez?" asked Sant' Ilario.</p> + <p>"No. Stories of that kind are generally inventions. She has not been presented at + Court—but that means nothing here. And there is a doubt about her + nationality—but no one has asked her directly about it."</p> + <p>"May I ask who told you the stories?"</p> + <p>The young man's face immediately lost all expression.</p> + <p>"Really—I have quite forgotten," he said. "People have been talking about + her."</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario justly concluded that his companion's informant was a lady, and + probably one in whom the diplomatist was interested. Discretion is so rare that it + can easily be traced to its causes. Giovanni left the young man and walked away in + the opposite direction, inwardly meditating a piece of diplomacy quite foreign to his + nature. He said to himself that he would watch the man in the world and that it would + be easy to guess who the lady in question was. It would have been clear to any one + but himself that he was not likely to learn anything worth knowing, by his present + mode of procedure.</p> + <p>"Gouache," he said, entering the artist's studio a quarter of an hour later, "do + you know anything about Madame d'Aranjuez?"</p> + <p>"That is all I know," Gouache answered, pointing to Maria Consuelo's portrait + which stood finished upon an easel before him, set in an old frame. He had been + touching it when Giovanni entered. "That is all I know, and I do not know that + thoroughly. I wish I did. She is a wonderful subject."</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario gazed at the picture in silence.</p> + <p>"Are her eyes really like these?" he asked at length.</p> + <p>"Much finer."</p> + <p>"And her mouth?"</p> + <p>"Much larger," answered Gouache with a smile.</p> + <p>"She is bad," said Giovanni with conviction, and he thought of the Signor + Aragno.</p> + <p>"Women are never bad," observed Gouache with a thoughtful air. "Some are less + angelic than others. You need only tell them all so to assure yourself of the + fact."</p> + <p>"I daresay. What is this person? French, Spanish—South American?"</p> + <p>"I have not the least idea. She is not French, at all events."</p> + <p>"Excuse me—does your wife know her?"</p> + <p>Gouache glanced quickly at his visitor's face.</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>Gouache was a singularly kind man, and he did his best perhaps for reasons of his + own, to convey nothing by the monosyllable beyond the simple negation of a fact. But + the effort was not altogether successful. There was an almost imperceptible shade of + surprise in the tone which did not escape Giovanni. On the other hand it was + perfectly clear to Gouache that Sant' Ilario's interest in the matter was connected + with Orsino.</p> + <p>"I cannot find any one who knows anything definite," said Giovanni after a + pause.</p> + <p>"Have you tried Spicca?" asked the artist, examining his work critically.</p> + <p>"No. Why Spicca?"</p> + <p>"He always knows everything," answered Gouache vaguely. "By the way, Saracinesca, + do you not think there might be a little more light just over the left eye?"</p> + <p>"How should I know?"</p> + <p>"You ought to know. What is the use of having been brought up under the very noses + of original portraits, all painted by the best masters and doubtless ordered by your + ancestors at a very considerable expense—if you do not know?"</p> + <p>Giovanni laughed.</p> + <p>"My dear old friend," he said good-humouredly, "have you known us nearly five and + twenty years without discovering that it is our peculiar privilege to be ignorant + without reproach?"</p> + <p>Gouache laughed in his turn.</p> + <p>"You do not often make sharp remarks—but when you do!"</p> + <p>Giovanni left the studio very soon, and went in search of Spicca. It was no easy + matter to find the peripatetic cynic on a winter's afternoon, but Gouache's remark + had seemed to mean something, and Sant' Ilario saw a faint glimmer of hope in the + distance. He knew Spicca's habits very well, and was aware that when the sun was low + he would certainly turn into one of the many houses where he was intimate, and spend + an hour over a cup of tea. The difficulty lay in ascertaining which particular + fireside he would select on that afternoon. Giovanni hastily sketched a route for + himself and asked the porter at each of his friends' houses if Spicca had entered. + Fortune favoured him at last. Spicca was drinking his tea with the Marchesa di San + Giacinto.</p> + <p>Giovanni paused a moment before the gateway of the palace in which San Giacinto + had inhabited a large hired apartment for many years. He did not see much of his + cousin, now, on account of differences in political opinion, and he had no reason + whatever for calling on Flavia, especially as formal New Year's visits had lately + been exchanged. However, as San Giacinto was now a leading authority on questions of + landed property in the city, it struck him that he could pretend a desire to see + Flavia's husband, and make that an excuse for staying a long time, if necessary, in + order to wait for him.</p> + <p>He found Flavia and Spicca alone together, with a small tea-table between them. + The air was heavy with the smoke of cigarettes, which clung to the oriental curtains + and hung in clouds about the rare palms and plants. Everything in the San Giacinto + house was large, comfortable and unostentatious. There was not a chair to be seen + which might not have held the giant's frame. San Giacinto was a wonderful judge of + what was good. If he paid twice as much as Montevarchi for a horse, the horse turned + out to be capable of four times the work. If he bought a picture at a sale, it was + discovered to be by some good master and other people wondered why they had lost + courage in the bidding for a trifle of a hundred francs. Nothing ever turned out + badly with him, but no success had the power to shake his solid prudence. No one knew + how rich he was, but those who had watched him understood that he would never let the + world guess at half his fortune. He was a giant in all ways and he had shown what he + could do when he had dominated Flavia during the first year of their marriage. She + had at first been proud of him, but about the time when she would have wearied of + another man, she discovered that she feared him in a way she certainly did not fear + the devil. Yet lie had never spoken a harsh, word to her in his life. But there was + something positively appalling to her in his enormous strength, rarely exhibited and + never without good reason, but always quietly present, as the outline of a vast + mountain reflected in a placid lake. Then she discovered to her great surprise that + he really loved her, which she had not expected, and at the end of three years he + became aware that she loved him, which was still more astonishing. As usual, his + investment had turned out well.</p> + <p>At the time of which I am speaking Flavia was a slight, graceful woman of forty + years or thereabouts, retaining much of the brilliant prettiness which served her for + beauty, and conspicuous always for her extremely bright eyes. She was of the type of + women who live to a great age.</p> + <p>She had not expected to see Sant' Ilario, and as she gave her hand, she looked up + at him with an air of inquiry. It would have been like him to say that he had come to + see her husband and not herself, for he had no tact with persons whom he did not + especially like. There are such people in the world.</p> + <p>"Will you give me a cup of tea, Flavia?" he asked, as he sat down, after shaking + hands with Spicca.</p> + <p>"Have you at last heard that your cousin's tea is good?" inquired the latter, who + was surprised by Giovanni's coming.</p> + <p>"I am afraid it is cold," said Flavia, looking into the teapot, as though she + could discover the temperature by inspection.</p> + <p>"It is no matter," answered Giovanni absently.</p> + <p>He was wondering how he could lead the conversation to the discussion of Madame + d'Aranjuez.</p> + <p>"You belong to the swallowers," observed Spicca, lighting a fresh cigarette. "You + swallow something, no matter what, and you are satisfied."</p> + <p>"It is the simplest way—one is never disappointed."</p> + <p>"It is a pity one cannot swallow people in the same way," said Flavia with a + laugh.</p> + <p>"Most people do," answered Spicca viciously.</p> + <p>"Were you at the Jubilee on the first day?" asked Giovanni, addressing Flavia.</p> + <p>"Of course I was—and you spoke to me."</p> + <p>"That is true. By the bye, I saw that excellent Donna Tullia there. I wonder whose + ticket she had."</p> + <p>"She had the Princess Befana's," answered Spicca, who knew everything. "The old + lady happened to be dying—she always dies at the beginning of the + season—it used to be for economy, but it has become a habit—and so Del + Ferice bought her card of her servant for his wife."</p> + <p>"Who was the lady who sat with her?" asked Giovanni, delighted with his own + skill.</p> + <p>"You ought to know!" exclaimed Flavia. "We all saw Orsino take her out. That is + the famous, the incomparable Madame d'Aranjuez—the most beautiful of Spanish + princesses according to to-day's paper. I daresay you have seen the account of the + Del Ferice party. She is no more Spanish than Alexander the Great. Is she, + Spicca?"</p> + <p>"No, she is not Spanish," answered the latter.</p> + <p>"Then what in the world is she?" asked Giovanni impatiently.</p> + <p>"How should I know? Of course it is very disagreeable for you." It was Flavia who + spoke.</p> + <p>"Disagreeable? How?"</p> + <p>"Why, about Orsino of course. Everybody says he is devoted to her."</p> + <p>"I wish everybody would mind his and her business," said Giovanni sharply. + "Because a boy makes the acquaintance of a stranger at a studio—"</p> + <p>"Oh—it was at a studio? I did not know that."</p> + <p>"Yes, at Gouache's—I fancied your sister might have told you that," said + Giovanni, growing more and more irritable, and yet not daring to change the subject, + lest he should lose some valuable information. "Because Orsino makes her acquaintance + accidentally, every one must say that he is in love with her."</p> + <p>Flavia laughed.</p> + <p>"My dear Giovanni," she answered. "Let us be frank. I used never to tell the truth + under any circumstances, when I was a girl, but Giovanni—my Giovanni—did + not like that. Do you know what he did? He used to cut off a hundred francs of my + allowance for every fib I told—laughing at me all the time. At the end of the + first quarter I positively had not a pair of shoes, and all my gloves had been + cleaned twice. He used to keep all the fines in a special pocket-book—if you + knew how hard I tried to steal it! But I could not. Then, of course, I reformed. + There was nothing else to be done—that or rags—fancy! And do you know? I + have grown quite used to being truthful. Besides, it is so original, that I pose with + it."</p> + <p>Flavia paused, laughed a little, and puffed at her cigarette.</p> + <p>"You do not often come to see me, Giovanni," she said, "and since you are here I + am going to tell you the truth about your visit. You are beside yourself with rage at + Orsino's new fancy, and you want to find out all about this Madame d'Aranjuez. So you + came here, because we are Whites and you saw that she had been at the Del Ferice + party, and you know that we know them—and the rest is sung by the organ, as we + say when high mass is over. Is that the truth, or not?"</p> + <p>"Approximately," said Giovanni, smiling in spite of himself.</p> + <p>"Does Corona cut your allowance when you tell fibs?" asked Flavia. "No? Then why + say that it is only approximately true?"</p> + <p>"I have my reasons. And you can tell me nothing?"</p> + <p>"Nothing. I believe Spicca knows all about her. But he will not tell what he + knows."</p> + <p>Spicca made no answer to this, and Giovanni determined to outstay him, or rather, + to stay until he rose to go and then go with him. It was tedious work for he was not + a man who could talk against time on all occasions. But he struggled bravely and + Spicca at last got up from his deep chair. They went out together, and stopped as + though by common consent upon the brilliantly lighted landing of the first floor.</p> + <p>"Seriously, Spicca," said Giovanni, "I am afraid Orsino is falling in love with + this pretty stranger. If you can tell me anything about her, please do so."</p> + <p>Spicca stared at the wall, hesitated a moment, and then looked straight into his + companion's eyes.</p> + <p>"Have you any reason to suppose that I, and I especially, know anything about this + lady?" he asked.</p> + <p>"No—except that you know everything."</p> + <p>"That is a fable." Spicca turned from him and began to descend the stairs.</p> + <p>Giovanni followed and laid a hand upon his arm.</p> + <p>"You will not do me this service?" he asked earnestly.</p> + <p>Again Spicca stopped and looked at him.</p> + <p>"You and I are very old friends, Giovanni," he said slowly. "I am older than you, + but we have stood by each other very often—in places more slippery than these + marble steps. Do not let us quarrel now, old friend. When I tell you that my + omniscience exists only in the vivid imaginations of people whose tea I like, believe + me, and if you wish to do me a kindness—for the sake of old times—do not + help to spread the idea that I know everything."</p> + <p>The melancholy Spicca had never been given to talking about friendship or its + mutual obligations. Indeed, Giovanni could not remember having ever heard him speak + as he had just spoken. It was perfectly clear that he knew something very definite + about Maria Consuelo, and he probably had no intention of deceiving Giovanni in that + respect. But Spicca also knew his man, and he knew that his appeal for Giovanni's + silence would not be vain.</p> + <p>"Very well," said Sant' Ilario.</p> + <p>They exchanged a few indifferent words before parting, and then Giovanni walked + slowly homeward, pondering on the things he had heard that day.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_VIII" name='CHAPTER_VIII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>While Giovanni was exerting himself to little purpose in attempting to gain + information concerning Maria Consuelo, she had launched herself upon the society of + which the Countess Del Ferice was an important and influential member. Chance, and + probably chance alone, had guided her in the matter of this acquaintance, for it + could certainly not be said that she had forced herself upon Donna Tullia, nor even + shown any uncommon readiness to meet the latter's advances. The offer of a seat in + her carriage had seemed natural enough, under the circumstances, and Donna Tullia had + been perfectly free to refuse it if she had chosen to do so.</p> + <p>Though possessing but the very slightest grounds for believing herself to be a + born diplomatist, the Countess had always delighted in petty plotting and scheming. + She now saw a possibility of annoying all Orsino's relations by attracting the object + of Orsino's devotion to her own house. She had no especial reason for supposing that + the young man was really very much in love with Madame d'Aranjuez, but her woman's + instinct, which far surpassed her diplomatic talents in acuteness, told her that + Orsino was certainly not indifferent to the interesting stranger. She argued, + primitively enough, that to annoy Orsino must be equivalent to annoying his people, + and she supposed that she could do nothing more disagreeable to the young man's + wishes than to induce Madame d'Aranjuez to join that part of society from which all + the Saracinesca were separated by an insuperable barrier.</p> + <p>And Orsino indeed resented the proceeding, as she had expected; but his family + were at first more inclined to look upon Donna Tullia as a good angel who had carried + off the tempter at the right moment to an unapproachable distance. It was not to be + believed that Orsino could do anything so monstrous as to enter Del Ferice's house or + ask a place in Del Ferice's circle, and it was accordingly a relief to find that + Madame d'Aranjuez had definitely chosen to do so, and had appeared in olive-green + brocade at the Del Ferice's last party. The olive-green brocade would now assuredly + not figure in the gatherings of the Saracinesca's intimate friends.</p> + <p>Like every one else, Orsino read the daily chronicle of Roman life in the papers, + and until he saw Maria Consuelo's name among the Del Ferice's guests, he refused to + believe that she had taken the irrevocable step he so much feared. He had still + entertained vague notions of bringing about a meeting between her and his mother, and + he saw at a glance that such a meeting was now quite out of the question. This was + the first severe shock his vanity had ever received and he was surprised at the depth + of his own annoyance. Maria Consuelo might indeed have been seen once with Donna + Tullia, and might have gone once to the latter's day. That was bad enough, but might + be remedied by tact and decision in her subsequent conduct. But there was no + salvation possible after a person had been advertised in the daily paper as Madame + d'Aranjuez had been. Orsino was very angry. He had been once to see her since his + first visit, and she had said nothing about this invitation, though Donna Tullia's + name had been mentioned. He was offended with her for not telling him that she was + going to the dinner, as though he had any right to be made acquainted with her + intentions. He had no sooner made the discovery than he determined to visit his anger + upon her, and throwing the paper aside went straight to the hotel where she was + stopping.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo was at home and he was ushered into the little sitting-room without + delay. To his inexpressible disgust he found Del Ferice himself installed upon the + chair near the table, engaged in animated conversation with Madame d'Aranjuez. The + situation was awkward in the extreme. Orsino hoped that Del Ferice would go at once, + and thus avoid the necessity of an introduction. But Ugo did nothing of the kind. He + rose, indeed, but did not take his hat from the table, and stood smiling pleasantly + while Orsino shook hands with Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"Let me make you acquainted," she said with exasperating calmness, and she named + the two men to each other.</p> + <p>Ugo put out his hand quietly and Orsino was obliged to take it, which he did + coldly enough. Ugo had more than his share of tact, and he never made a disagreeable + impression upon any one if he could help it. Maria Consuelo seemed to take everything + for granted, and Orsino's appearance did not disconcert her in the slightest degree. + Both men sat down and looked at her as though expecting that she would choose a + subject of conversation for them.</p> + <p>"We were talking of the change in Rome," she said. "Monsieur Del Ferice takes a + great interest in all that is doing, and he was explaining to me some of the + difficulties with which he has to contend."</p> + <p>"Don Orsino knows what they are, as well as I, though we might perhaps differ as + to the way of dealing with them," said Del Ferice.</p> + <p>"Yes," answered Orsino, more coldly than was necessary. "You play the active part, + and we the passive."</p> + <p>"In a certain sense, yes," returned the other, quite unruffled. "You have exactly + defined the situation, and ours is by far the more disagreeable and thankless part to + play. Oh—I am not going to defend all we have done! I only defend what we mean + to do. Change of any sort is execrable to the man of taste, unless it is brought + about by time—and that is a beautifier which we have not at our disposal. We + are half Vandals and half Americans, and we are in a terrible hurry."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo laughed, and Orsino's face became a shade less gloomy. He had + expected to find Del Ferice the arrogant, self-satisfied apostle of the modern, which + he was represented to be.</p> + <p>"Could you not have taken a little more time?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"I cannot see how. Besides it is our time which takes us with it. So long as Rome + was the capital of an idea there was no need of haste in doing anything. But when it + became the capital of a modern kingdom, it fell a victim to modern facts—which + are not beautiful. The most we can hope to do is to direct the current, clumsily + enough, I daresay. We cannot stop it. Nothing short of Oriental despotism could. We + cannot prevent people from flocking to the centre, and where there is a population it + must be housed."</p> + <p>"Evidently," said Madame d'Aranjuez.</p> + <p>"It seems to me that, without disturbing the old city, a new one might have been + built beside it," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"No doubt. And that is practically what we have done. I say 'we,' because you say + 'you.' But I think you will admit that, as far as personal activity is concerned, the + Romans of Rome are taking as active a share in building ugly houses as any of the + Italian Romans. The destruction of the Villa Ludovisi, for instance, was forced upon + the owner not by the national government but by an insane municipality, and those who + have taken over the building lots are largely Roman princes of the old stock."</p> + <p>The argument was unanswerable, and Orsino knew it, a fact which did not improve + his temper. It was disagreeable enough to be forced into a conversation with Del + Ferice, and it was still worse to be obliged to agree with him. Orsino frowned and + said nothing, hoping that the subject would drop. But Del Ferice had only produced an + unpleasant impression in order to remove it and thereby improve the whole situation, + which was one of the most difficult in which he had found himself for some time.</p> + <p>"I repeat," he said, with a pleasant smile, "that it is hopeless to defend all of + what is actually done in our day in Rome. Some of your friends and many of mine are + building houses which even age and ruin will never beautify. The only defensible part + of the affair is the political change which has brought about the necessity of + building at all, and upon that point I think that we may agree to differ. Do you not + think so, Don Orsino?"</p> + <p>"By all means," answered the young man, conscious that the proposal was both just + and fitting.</p> + <p>"And for the rest, both your friends and mine—for all I know, your own + family and certainly I myself—have enormous interests at stake. We may at least + agree to hope that none of us may be ruined."</p> + <p>"Certainly—though we have had nothing to do with the matter. Neither my + father nor my grandfather have entered into any such speculation."</p> + <p>"It is a pity," said Del Ferice thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"Why a pity?"</p> + <p>"On the one hand my instincts are basely commercial," Del Ferice answered with a + frank laugh. "No matter how great a fortune may be, it may be doubled and trebled. + You must remember that I am a banker in fact if not exactly in designation, and the + opportunity is excellent. But the greater pity is that such men as you, Don Orsino, + who could exercise as much influence as it might please you to use, leave it to + men—very unlike you, I fancy—to murder the architecture of Rome and + prepare the triumph of the hideous."</p> + <p>Orsino did not answer the remark, although he was not altogether displeased with + the idea it conveyed. Maria Consuelo looked at him.</p> + <p>"Why do you stand aloof and let things go from bad to worse when you might really + do good by joining in the affairs of the day?" she asked.</p> + <p>"I could not join in them, if I would," answered Orsino.</p> + <p>"Why not?"</p> + <p>"Because I have not command of a hundred francs in the world, Madame. That is the + simplest and best of all reasons."</p> + <p>Del Ferice laughed incredulously.</p> + <p>"The eldest son of Casa Saracinesca would not find that a practical obstacle," he + said, taking his hat and rising to go. "Besides, what is needed in these transactions + is not so much ready money as courage, decision and judgment. There is a rich firm of + contractors now doing a large business, who began with three thousand francs as their + whole capital—what you might lose at cards in an evening without missing it, + though you say that you have no money at your command."</p> + <p>"Is that possible?" asked Orsino with some interest.</p> + <p>"It is a fact. There were three men, a tobacconist, a carpenter and a mason, and + they each had a thousand francs of savings. They took over a contract last week for a + million and a half, on which they will clear twenty per cent. But they had the + qualities—the daring and the prudence combined. They succeeded."</p> + <p>"And if they had failed, what would have happened?"</p> + <p>"They would have lost their three thousand francs. They had nothing else to lose, + and there was nothing in the least irregular about their transactions. Good evening, + Madame—I have a private meeting of directors at my house. Good evening, Don + Orsino."</p> + <p>He went out, leaving behind him an impression which was not by any means + disagreeable. His appearance was against him, Orsino thought. His fat white face and + dull eyes were not pleasant to look at. But he had shown tact in a difficult + situation, and there was a quiet energy about him, a settled purpose which could not + fail to please a young man who hated his own idleness.</p> + <p>Orsino found that his mood had changed. He was less angry than he had meant to be, + and he saw extenuating circumstances where he had at first only seen a wilful + mistake. He sat down again.</p> + <p>"Confess that he is not the impossible creature you supposed," said Maria Consuelo + with a laugh.</p> + <p>"No, he is not. I had imagined something very different. Nevertheless, I + wish—one never has the least right to wish what one wishes—" He stopped + in the middle of the sentence.</p> + <p>"That I had not gone to his wife's party, you would say? But my dear Don Orsino, + why should I refuse pleasant things when they come into my life?"</p> + <p>"Was it so pleasant?"</p> + <p>"Of course it was. A beautiful dinner—half a dozen clever men, all + interested in the affairs of the day, and all anxious to explain them to me because I + was a stranger. A hundred people or so in the evening, who all seemed to enjoy + themselves as much as I did. Why should I refuse all that? Because my first + acquaintance in Rome—who was Gouache—is so 'indifferent,' and because + you—my second—are a pronounced clerical? That is not reasonable."</p> + <p>"I do not pretend to be reasonable," said Orsino. "To be reasonable is the boast + of people who feel nothing."</p> + <p>"Then you are a man of heart?" Maria Consuelo seemed amused.</p> + <p>"I make no pretence to being a man of head, Madame."</p> + <p>"You are not easily caught."</p> + <p>"Nor Del Ferice either."</p> + <p>"Why do you talk of him?"</p> + <p>"The opportunity is good, Madame. As he is just gone, we know that he is not + coming."</p> + <p>"You can be very sarcastic, when you like," said Maria Consuelo. "But I do not + believe that you are as bitter as you make yourself out to be. I do not even believe + that you found Del Ferice so very disagreeable as you pretend. You were certainly + interested in what he said."</p> + <p>"Interest is not always agreeable. The guillotine, for instance, possesses the + most lively interest for the condemned man at an execution."</p> + <p>"Your illustrations are startling. I once saw an execution, quite by accident, and + I would rather not think of it. But you can hardly compare Del Ferice to the + guillotine."</p> + <p>"He is as noiseless, as keen and as sure," said Orsino smartly.</p> + <p>"There is such a thing as being too clever," answered Maria Consuelo, without a + smile.</p> + <p>"Is Del Ferice a case of that?"</p> + <p>"No. You are. You say cutting things merely because they come into your head, + though I am sure that you do not always mean them. It is a bad habit."</p> + <p>"Because it makes enemies, Madame?" Orsino was annoyed by the rebuke.</p> + <p>"That is the least good of good reasons."</p> + <p>"Another, then?"</p> + <p>"It will prevent people from loving you," said Maria Consuelo gravely.</p> + <p>"I never heard that—"</p> + <p>"No? It is true, nevertheless."</p> + <p>"In that case I will reform at once," said Orsino, trying to meet her eyes. But + she looked away from him.</p> + <p>"You think that I am preaching to you," she answered. "I have not the right to do + that, and if I had, I would certainly not use it. But I have seen something of the + world. Women rarely love a man who is bitter against any one but himself. If he says + cruel things of other women, the one to whom he says them believes that he will say + much worse of her to the next he meets; if he abuses the men she knows, she likes it + even less—it is an attack on her judgment, on her taste and perhaps upon a + half-developed sympathy for the man attacked. One should never be witty at another + person's expense, except with one's own sex." She laughed a little.</p> + <p>"What a terrible conclusion!"</p> + <p>"Is it? It is the true one."</p> + <p>"Then the way to win a woman's love is to praise her acquaintances? That is + original."</p> + <p>"I never said that."</p> + <p>"No? I misunderstood. What is the best way?"</p> + <p>"Oh—it is very simple," laughed Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"Tell her you love her, and tell her so again and again—you will certainly + please her in the end."</p> + <p>"Madame—" Orsino stopped, and folded his hands with an air of devout + supplication.</p> + <p>"What?"</p> + <p>"Oh, nothing! I was about to begin. It seemed so simple, as you say."</p> + <p>They both laughed and their eyes met for a moment.</p> + <p>"Del Ferice interests me very much," said Maria Consuelo, abruptly returning to + the original subject of conversation. "He is one of those men who will be held + responsible for much that is now doing. Is it not true? He has great influence."</p> + <p>"I have always heard so." Orsino was not pleased at being driven to talk of Del + Ferice again.</p> + <p>"Do you think what he said about you so altogether absurd?"</p> + <p>"Absurd, no—impracticable, perhaps. You mean his suggestion that I should + try a little speculation? Frankly, I had no idea that such things could be begun with + so little capital. It seems incredible. I fancy that Del Ferice was exaggerating. You + know how carelessly bankers talk of a few thousands, more or less. Nothing short of a + million has much meaning for them. Three thousand or thirty thousand—it is much + the same in their estimation."</p> + <p>"I daresay. After all, why should you risk anything? I suppose it is simpler to + play cards, though I should think it less amusing. I was only thinking how easy it + would be for you to find a serious occupation if you chose."</p> + <p>Orsino was silent for a moment, and seemed to be thinking over the matter.</p> + <p>"Would you advise me to enter upon such a business without my father's knowledge?" + he asked presently.</p> + <p>"How can I advise you? Besides, your father would let you do as you please. There + is nothing dishonourable in such things. The prejudice against business is + old-fashioned, and if you do not break through it your children will."</p> + <p>Orsino looked thoughtfully at Maria Consuelo. She sometimes found an oddly + masculine bluntness with which to express her meaning, and which produced a singular + impression on the young man. It made him feel what he supposed to be a sort of + weakness, of which he ought to be ashamed.</p> + <p>"There is nothing dishonourable in the theory," he answered, "and the practice + depends on the individual."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo laughed.</p> + <p>"You see—you can be a moralist when you please," she said.</p> + <p>There was a wonderful attraction in her yellow eyes just at that moment.</p> + <p>"To please you, Madame, I could do something much worse—or much better."</p> + <p>He was not quite in earnest, but he was not jesting, and his face was more serious + than his voice. Maria Consuelo's hand was lying on the table beside the silver + paper-cutter. The white, pointed fingers were very tempting and he would willingly + have touched them. He put out his hand. If she did not draw hers away he would lay + his own upon it. If she did, he would take up the paper-cutter. As it turned out, he + had to content himself with the latter. She did not draw her hand away as though she + understood what he was going to do, but quietly raised it and turned the shade of the + lamp a few inches.</p> + <p>"I would rather not be responsible for your choice," she said quietly.</p> + <p>"And yet you have left me none," he answered with, sudden boldness.</p> + <p>"No? How so?"</p> + <p>He held up the silver knife and smiled.</p> + <p>"I do not understand," she said, affecting a look of surprise.</p> + <p>"I was going to ask your permission to take your hand."</p> + <p>"Indeed? Why? There it is." She held it out frankly.</p> + <p>He took the beautiful fingers in his and looked at them for a moment. Then he + quietly raised them to his lips.</p> + <p>"That was not included in the permission," she said, with a little laugh and + drawing back. "Now you ought to go away at once."</p> + <p>"Why?"</p> + <p>"Because that little ceremony can belong only to the beginning or the end of a + visit."</p> + <p>"I have only just come."</p> + <p>"Ah? How long the time has seemed! I fancied you had been here half an hour."</p> + <p>"To me it has seemed but a minute," answered Orsino promptly.</p> + <p>"And you will not go?"</p> + <p>There was nothing of the nature of a peremptory dismissal in the look which + accompanied the words.</p> + <p>"No—at the most, I will practise leave-taking."</p> + <p>"I think not," said Maria Consuelo with sudden coldness. "You are a little + too—what shall I say?—too enterprising, prince. You had better make use + of the gift where it will be a recommendation—in business, for instance."</p> + <p>"You are very severe, Madame," answered Orsino, deeming it wiser to affect + humility, though a dozen sharp answers suggested themselves to his ready wit.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo was silent for a few seconds. Her head was resting upon the little + red morocco cushion, which heightened the dazzling whiteness of her skin and lent a + deeper colour to her auburn hair. She was gazing at the hangings above the door. + Orsino watched her in quiet admiration. She was beautiful as he saw her there at that + moment, for the irregularities of her features were forgotten in the brilliancy of + her colouring and in the grace of the attitude. Her face was serious at first. + Gradually a smile stole over it, beginning, as it seemed, from the deeply set eyes + and concentrating itself at last in the full, red mouth. Then she spoke, still + looking upwards and away from him.</p> + <p>"What would you think if I were not a little severe?" she asked. "I am a woman + living—travelling, I should say—quite alone, a stranger here, and little + less than a stranger to you. What would you think if I were not a little severe, I + say? What conclusion would you come to, if I let you take my hand as often as you + pleased, and say whatever suggested itself to your imagination—your very active + imagination?"</p> + <p>"I should think you the most adorable of women—"</p> + <p>"But it is not my ambition to be thought the most adorable of women by you, Prince + Orsino."</p> + <p>"No—of course not. People never care for what they get without an + effort."</p> + <p>"You are absolutely irrepressible!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo, laughing in spite of + herself.</p> + <p>"And you do not like that! I will be meekness itself—a lamb, if you + please."</p> + <p>"Too playful—it would not suit your style."</p> + <p>"A stone—"</p> + <p>"I detest geology."</p> + <p>"A lap-dog, then. Make your choice, Madame. The menagerie of the universe is at + your disposal. When Adam gave names to the animals, he could have called a lion a + lap-dog—to reassure the Africans. But he lacked imagination—he called a + cat, a cat."</p> + <p>"That had the merit of simplicity, at all events."</p> + <p>"Since you admire his system, you may call me either Cain or Abel," suggested + Orsino. "Am I humble enough? Can submission go farther?"</p> + <p>"Either would be flattery—for Abel was good and Cain was interesting."</p> + <p>"And I am neither—you give me another opportunity of exhibiting my deep + humility. I thank you sincerely. You are becoming more gracious than I had + hoped."</p> + <p>"You are very like a woman, Don Orsino. You always try to have the last word."</p> + <p>"I always hope that the last word may be the best. But I accept the + criticism—or the reproach, with my usual gratitude. I only beg you to observe + that to let you have the last word would be for me to end the conversation, after + which I should be obliged to go away. And I do not wish to go, as I have already + said."</p> + <p>"You suggest the means of making you go," answered Maria Consuelo, with a smile. + "I can be silent—if you will not."</p> + <p>"It will be useless. If you do not interrupt me, I shall become + eloquent—"</p> + <p>"How terrible! Pray do not!"</p> + <p>"You see! I have you in my power. You cannot get rid of me."</p> + <p>"I would appeal to your generosity, then."</p> + <p>"That is another matter, Madame," said Orsino, taking his hat.</p> + <p>"I only said that I would—" Maria Consuelo made a gesture to stop him.</p> + <p>But he was wise enough to see that the conversation had reached its natural end, + and his instinct told him that he should not outstay his welcome. He pretended not to + see the motion of her hand, and rose to take his leave.</p> + <p>"You do not know me," he said. "To point out to me a possible generous action, is + to ensure my performing it without hesitation. When may I be so fortunate as to see + you again, Madame?"</p> + <p>"You need not be so intensely ceremonious. You know that I am always at home at + this hour."</p> + <p>Orsino was very much struck by this answer. There was a shade of irritation in the + tone, which he had certainly not expected, and which flattered him exceedingly. She + turned her face away as she gave him her hand and moved a book on the table with the + other as though she meant to begin reading almost before he should be out of the + room. He had not felt by any means sure that she really liked his society, and he had + not expected that she would so far forget herself as to show her inclination by her + impatience. He had judged, rightly or wrongly, that she was a woman who weighed every + word and gesture beforehand, and who would be incapable of such an oversight as an + unpremeditated manifestation of feeling.</p> + <p>Very young men are nowadays apt to imagine complications of character where they + do not exist, often overlooking them altogether where they play a real part. The + passion for analysis discovers what it takes for new simple elements in humanity's + motives, and often ends by feeding on itself in the effort to decompose what is not + composite. The greatest analysers are perhaps the young and the old, who, being + respectively before and behind the times, are not so intimate with them as those who + are actually making history, political or social, ethical or scandalous, dramatic or + comic.</p> + <p>It is very much the custom among those who write fiction in the English language + to efface their own individuality behind the majestic but rather meaningless plural, + "we," or to let the characters created express the author's view of mankind. The + great French novelists are more frank, for they say boldly "I," and have the courage + of their opinions. Their merit is the greater, since those opinions seem to be rarely + complimentary to the human race in general, or to their readers in particular. + Without introducing any comparison between the fiction of the two languages, it may + be said that the tendency of the method is identical in both cases and is the + consequence of an extreme preference for analysis, to the detriment of the romantic + and very often of the dramatic element in the modern novel. The result may or may not + be a volume of modern social history for the instruction of the present and the + future generation. If it is not, it loses one of the chief merits which it claims; if + it is, then we must admit the rather strange deduction, that the political history of + our times has absorbed into itself all the romance and the tragedy at the disposal of + destiny, leaving next to none at all in the private lives of the actors and their + numerous relations.</p> + <p>Whatever the truth may be, it is certain that this love of minute dissection is + exercising an enormous influence in our time; and as no one will pretend that a + majority of the young persons in society who analyse the motives of their + contemporaries and elders are successful moral anatomists, we are forced to the + conclusion that they are frequently indebted to their imaginations for the results + they obtain and not seldom for the material upon which they work. A real Chemistry + may some day grow out of the failures of this fanciful Alchemy, but the present + generation will hardly live to discover the philosopher's stone, though the search + for it yield gold, indirectly, by the writing of many novels. If fiction is to be + counted among the arts at all, it is not yet time to forget the saying of a very + great man: "It is the mission of all art to create and foster agreeable + illusions."</p> + <p>Orsino Saracinesca was no further removed from the action of the analytical + bacillus than other men of his age. He believed and desired his own character to be + more complicated than it was, and he had no sooner made the acquaintance of Maria + Consuelo than he began to attribute to her minutest actions such a tortuous web of + motives as would have annihilated all action if it had really existed in her brain. + The possible simplicity of a strong and much tried character, good or bad, altogether + escaped him, and even an occasional unrestrained word or gesture failed to convince + him that he was on the wrong track. To tell the truth, he was as yet very + inexperienced. His visits to Maria Consuelo passed in making light conversation. He + tried to amuse her, and succeeded fairly well, while at the same time he indulged in + endless and fruitless speculations as to her former life, her present intentions and + her sentiments with regard to himself. He would have liked to lead her into talking + of herself, but he did not know where to begin. It was not a part of his system to + believe in mysteries concerning people, but when he reflected upon the matter he was + amazed at the impenetrability of the barrier which cut him off from all knowledge of + her life. He soon heard the tales about her which were carelessly circulated at the + club, and he listened to them without much interest, though he took the trouble to + deny their truth on his own responsibility, which surprised the men who knew him and + gave rise to the story that he was in love with Madame d'Aranjuez. The most annoying + consequence of the rumour was that every woman to whom he spoke in society + overwhelmed him with questions which he could not answer except in the vaguest terms. + In his ignorance he did his best to evolve a satisfactory history for Maria Consuelo + out of his imagination, but the result was not satisfactory.</p> + <p>He continued his visits to her, resolving before each meeting that he would risk + offending her by putting some question which she must either answer directly or + refuse to answer altogether. But he had not counted upon his own inherent hatred of + rudeness, nor upon the growth of an attachment which he had not foreseen when he had + coldly made up his mind that it would be worth while to make love to her, as Gouache + had laughingly suggested. Yet he was pleased with what he deemed his own coldness. He + assuredly did not love her, but he knew already that he would not like to give up the + half hours he spent with her. To offend her seriously would be to forfeit a portion + of his daily amusement which he could not spare.</p> + <p>From time to time he risked a careless, half-jesting declaration such as many a + woman might have taken seriously. But Maria Consuelo turned such advances with a + laugh or by an answer that was admirably tempered with quiet dignity and friendly + rebuke.</p> + <p>"If she is not good," he said to himself at last, "she must be enormously clever. + She must be one or the other."</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_IX" name='CHAPTER_IX'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino's twenty-first birthday fell in the latter part of January, when the Roman + season was at its height, but as the young man's majority did not bring him any of + those sudden changes in position which make epochs in the lives of fatherless sons, + the event was considered as a family matter and no great social celebration of it was + contemplated. It chanced, too, that the day of the week was the one appropriated by + the Montevarchi for their weekly dance, with which it would have been a mistake to + interfere. The old Prince Saracinesca, however, insisted that a score of old friends + should be asked to dinner, to drink the health of his eldest grandson, and this was + accordingly done.</p> + <p>Orsino always looked back to that banquet as one of the dullest at which he ever + assisted. The friends were literally old, and their conversation was not brilliant. + Each one on arriving addressed to him a few congratulatory and moral sentiments, + clothed in rounded periods and twanging of Cicero in his most sermonising mood. Each + drank his especial health at the end of the dinner in a teaspoonful of old "vin + santo," and each made a stiff compliment to Corona on her youthful appearance. The + men were almost all grandees of Spain of the first class and wore their ribbons by + common consent, which lent the assembly an imposing appearance; but several of them + were of a somnolent disposition and nodded after dinner, which did not contribute to + prolong the effect produced. Orsino thought their stories and anecdotes very + long-winded and pointless, and even the old prince himself seemed oppressed by the + solemnity of the affair, and rarely laughed. Corona, with serene good humour did her + best to make conversation, and a shade of animation occasionally appeared at her end + of the table; but Sant' Ilario was bored to the verge of extinction and talked of + nothing but archaeology and the trial of the Cenci, wondering inwardly why he chose + such exceedingly dry subjects. As for Orsino, the two old princesses between whom he + was placed paid very little attention to him, and talked across him about the merits + of their respective confessors and directors. He frivolously asked them whether they + ever went to the theatre, to which they replied very coldly that they went to their + boxes when the piece was not on the Index and when there was no ballet. Orsino + understood why he never saw them at the opera, and relapsed into silence. The butler, + a son of the legendary Pasquale of earlier days, did his best to cheer the youngest + of his masters with a great variety of wines; but Orsino would not be comforted + either by very dry champagne or very mellow claret. But he vowed a bitter revenge and + swore to dance till three in the morning at the Montevarchi's and finish the night + with a rousing baccarat at the club, which projects he began to put into execution as + soon as was practicable.</p> + <p>In due time the guests departed, solemnly renewing their expressions of good + wishes, and the Saracinesca household was left to itself. The old prince stood before + the fire in the state drawing-room, rubbing his hands and shaking his head. Giovanni + and Corona sat on opposite sides of the fireplace, looking at each other and somewhat + inclined to laugh. Orsino was intently studying a piece of historical tapestry which + had never interested him before.</p> + <p>The silence lasted some time. Then old Saracinesca raised his head and gave vent + to his feelings, with all his old energy.</p> + <p>"What a museum!" he exclaimed. "I would not have believed that I should live to + dine in my own house with a party of stranded figure-heads, set up in rows around my + table! The paint is all worn off and the brains are all worn out and there is nothing + left but a cracked old block of wood with a ribbon around its neck. You will be just + like them, Giovanni, in a few years, for you will be just like me—we all turn + into the same shape at seventy, and if we live a dozen years longer it is because + Providence designs to make us an awful example to the young."</p> + <p>"I hope you do not call yourself a figure-head," said Giovanni.</p> + <p>"They are calling me by worse names at this very minute as they drive home. 'That + old Methuselah of a Saracinesca, how has he the face to go on living?' That is the + way they talk. 'People ought to die decently when other people have had enough of + them, instead of sitting up at the table like death's-heads to grin at their + grandchildren and great-grandchildren!' They talk like that, Giovanni. I have known + some of those old monuments for sixty years and more—since they were babies and + I was of Orsino's age. Do you suppose I do not know how they talk? You always take me + for a good, confiding old fellow, Giovanni. But then, you never understood human + nature."</p> + <p>Giovanni laughed and Corona smiled. Orsino turned round to enjoy the rare delight + of seeing the old gentleman rouse himself in a fit of temper.</p> + <p>"If you were ever confiding it was because you were too good," said Giovanni + affectionately.</p> + <p>"Yes—good and confiding—that is it! You always did agree with me as to + my own faults. Is it not true, Corona? Can you not take my part against that + graceless husband of yours? He is always abusing me—as though I were his + property, or his guest. Orsino, my boy, go away—we are all quarrelling here + like a pack of wolves, and you ought to respect your elders. Here is your father + calling me by bad names—"</p> + <p>"I said you were too good," observed Giovanni.</p> + <p>"Yes—good and confiding! If you can find anything worse to say, say + it—and may you live to hear that good-for-nothing Orsino call you good and + confiding when you are eighty-two years old. And Corona is laughing at me. It is + insufferable. You used to be a good girl, Corona—but you are so proud of having + four sons that there is no possibility of talking to you any longer. It is a pity + that you have not brought them up better. Look at Orsino. He is laughing too."</p> + <p>"Certainly not at you, grandfather," the young man hastened to say.</p> + <p>"Then you must be laughing at your father or your mother, or both, since there is + no one else here to laugh at. You are concocting sharp speeches for your abominable + tongue. I know it. I can see it in your eyes. That is the way you have brought up + your children, Giovanni. I congratulate you. Upon my word, I congratulate you with + all my heart! Not that I ever expected anything better. You addled your own brains + with curious foreign ideas on your travels—the greater fool I for letting you + run about the world when you were young. I ought to have locked you up in + Saracinesca, on bread and water, until you understood the world well enough to profit + by it. I wish I had."</p> + <p>None of the three could help laughing at this extraordinary speech. Orsino + recovered his gravity first, by the help of the historical tapestry. The old + gentleman noticed the fact.</p> + <p>"Come here, Orsino, my boy," he said. "I want to talk to you."</p> + <p>Orsino came forward. The old prince laid a hand on his shoulder and looked up into + his face.</p> + <p>"You are twenty-one years old to-day," he said, "and we are all quarrelling in + honour of the event. You ought to be flattered that we should take so much trouble to + make the evening pass pleasantly for you, but you probably have not the + discrimination to see what your amusement costs us."</p> + <p>His grey beard shook a little, his rugged features twitched, and then a broad + good-humoured smile lit up the old face.</p> + <p>"We are quarrelsome people," he continued in his most Cheerful and hearty tone. + "When Giovanni and I were young—we were young together, you know—we + quarrelled every day as regularly as we ate and drank. I believe it was very good for + us. We generally made it up before night—for the sake of beginning again with a + clear conscience. Anything served us—the weather, the soup, the colour of a + horse."</p> + <p>"You must have led an extremely lively life," observed Orsino, considerably + amused.</p> + <p>"It was very well for us, Orsino. But it will not do for you. You are not so much + like your father, as he was like me at your age. We fought with the same weapons, but + you two would not, if you fought at all. We fenced for our own amusement and we kept + the buttons on the foils. You have neither my really angelic temper nor your father's + stony coolness—he is laughing again—no matter, he knows it is true. You + have a diabolical tongue. Do not quarrel with your father for amusement, Orsino. His + calmness will exasperate you as it does me, but you will not laugh at the right + moment as I have done all my life. You will bear malice and grow sullen and + permanently disagreeable. And do not say all the cutting things you think of, because + with your disposition you will get into serious trouble. If you have really good + cause for being angry, it is better to strike than to speak, and in such cases I + strongly advise you to strike first. Now go and amuse yourself, for you must have had + enough of our company. I do not think of any other advice to give you on your coming + of age."</p> + <p>Thereupon he laughed again and pushed his grandson away, evidently delighted with + the lecture he had given him. Orsino was quick to profit by the permission and was + soon in the Montevarchi ballroom, doing his best to forget the lugubrious feast in + his own honour at which he had lately assisted.</p> + <p>He was not altogether successful, however. He had looked forward to the day for + many months as one of rejoicing as well as of emancipation, and he had been + grievously disappointed. There was something of ill augury, he thought, in the + appalling dulness of the guests, for they had congratulated him upon his entry into a + life exactly similar to their own. Indeed, the more precisely similar it proved to + be, the more he would be respected when he reached their advanced age. The future + unfolded to him was not gay. He was to live forty, fifty or even sixty years in the + same round of traditions and hampered by the same net of prejudices. He might have + his romance, as his father had had before him, but there was nothing beyond that. His + father seemed perfectly satisfied with his own unruffled existence and far from + desirous of any change. The feudalism of it all was still real in fact, though + abolished in theory, and the old prince was as much a great feudal lord as ever, + whose interests were almost tribal in their narrowness, almost sordid in their + detail, and altogether uninteresting to his presumptive heir in the third generation. + What was the peasant of Aquaviva, for instance, to Orsino? Yet Sant' Ilario and old + Saracinesca took a lively interest in his doings and in the doings of four or five + hundred of his kind, whom they knew by name and spoke of as belongings, much as they + would have spoken of books in the library. To collect rents from peasants and to + ascertain in person whether their houses needed repair was not a career. Orsino + thought enviously of San Giacinto's two sons, leading what seemed to him a life of + comparative activity and excitement in the Italian army, and having the prospect of + distinction by their own merits. He thought of San Giacinto himself, of his ceaseless + energy and of the great position he was building up. San Giacinto was a Saracinesca + as well as Orsino, bearing the same name and perhaps not less respected than the rest + by the world at large, though he had sullied his hands with finance. Even Del + Ferice's position would have been above criticism, but for certain passages in his + earlier life not immediately connected with his present occupation. And as if such + instances were not enough there were, to Orsino's certain knowledge, half a dozen men + of his father's rank even now deeply engaged in the speculations of the day. + Montevarchi was one of them, and neither he nor the others made any secret of their + doings.</p> + <p>"Surely," thought Orsino, "I have as good a head as any of them, except, perhaps, + San Giacinto."</p> + <p>And he grew more and more discontented with his lot, and more and more angry at + himself for submitting to be bound hand and foot and sacrificed upon the altar of + feudalism. Everything had disappointed and irritated him on that day, the weariness + of the dinner, the sight of his parents' placid felicity, the advice his grandfather + had given him—good of its kind, but lamentably insufficient, to say the least + of it. He was rapidly approaching that state of mind in which young men do the most + unexpected things for the mere pleasure of surprising their relations.</p> + <p>He grew tired of the ball, because Madame d'Aranjuez was not there. He longed to + dance with her and he wished that he were at liberty to frequent the houses la which + she was asked. But as yet she saw only the Whites and had not made the acquaintance + of a single Grey family, in spite of his entreaties. He could not tell whether she + had any fixed reason in making her choice, or whether as yet it had been the result + of chance, but he discovered that he was bored wherever he went because she was not + present. At supper-time on this particular evening, he entered into a conspiracy with + certain choice spirits to leave the party and adjourn to the club and cards.</p> + <p>The sight of the tables revived him and he drew a long breath as he sat down with + a cigarette in his mouth and a glass at his elbow. It seemed as though the day were + beginning at last.</p> + <p>Orsino was no more a born gambler than he was disposed to be a hard drinker. He + loved excitement in any shape, and being so constituted as to bear it better than + most men, he took it greedily in whatever form it was offered to him. He neither + played nor drank every day, but when he did either he was inclined to play more than + other people and to consume more strong liquor. Yet his judgment was not remarkable, + nor his head much stronger than the heads of his companions. Great gamblers do not + drink, and great drinkers are not good players, though they are sometimes amazingly + lucky when in their cups.</p> + <p>It is of no use to deny the enormous influence of brandy and games of chance on + the men of the present day, but there is little profit in describing such scenes as + take place nightly in many clubs all over Europe. Something might be gained, indeed, + if we could trace the causes which have made gambling especially the vice of our + generation, for that discovery might show us some means of influencing the next. But + I do not believe that this is possible. The times have undoubtedly grown more dull, + as civilisation has made them more alike, but there is, I think, no truth in the + common statement that vice is bred of idleness. The really idle man is a poor + creature, incapable of strong sins. It is far more often the man of superior gifts, + with faculties overwrought and nerves strained above concert pitch by excessive + mental exertion, who turns to vicious excitement for the sake of rest, as a duller + man falls asleep. Men whose lives are spent amidst the vicissitudes, surprises and + disappointments of the money market are assuredly less idle than country gentlemen; + the busy lawyer has less time to spare than the equally gifted fellow of a college; + the skilled mechanic works infinitely harder, taking the average of the whole year, + than the agricultural labourer; the life of a sailor on an ordinary merchant ship is + one of rest, ease and safety compared with that of the collier. Yet there can hardly + be a doubt as to which individual in each example is the one to seek relaxation in + excitement, innocent or the reverse, instead of in sleep. The operator in the stock + market, the barrister, the mechanic, the miner, in every case the men whose faculties + are the more severely strained, are those who seek strong emotions in their daily + leisure, and who are the more inclined to extend that leisure at the expense of + bodily rest. It may be objected that the worst vice is found in the highest grades of + society, that is to say, among men who have no settled occupation. I answer that, in + the first place, this is not a known fact, but a matter of speculation, and that the + conclusion is principally drawn from the circumstance that the evil deeds of such + persons, when they become known, are very severely criticised by those whose + criticism has the most weight, namely by the equals of the sinners in + question—as well as by writers of fiction whose opinions may or may not be + worth considering. For one Zola, historian of the Rougon-Macquart family, there are a + hundred would-be Zolas, censors of a higher class, less unpleasantly fond of accurate + detail, perhaps, but as merciless in intention. But even if the case against society + be proved, which is possible, I do not think that society can truly be called idle, + because many of those who compose it have no settled occupation. The social day is a + long one. Society would not accept the eight hours' system demanded by the labour + unions. Society not uncommonly works at a high pressure for twelve, fourteen and even + sixteen hours at a stretch. The mental strain, though, not of the most intellectual + order, is incomparably more severe than that required for success in many lucrative + professions or crafts. The general absence of a distinct aim sharpens the faculties + in the keen pursuit of details, and lends an importance to trifles which overburdens + at every turn the responsibility borne by the nerves. Lazy people are not favourites + in drawing-rooms, and still less at the dinner-table. Consider also that the average + man of the world, and many women, daily sustain an amount of bodily fatigue equal + perhaps to that borne by many mechanics and craftsmen and much greater than that + required in the liberal professions, and that, too, under far less favourable + conditions. Recapitulate all these points. Add together the physical effort, the + mental activity, the nervous strain. Take the sum and compare it with that got by a + similar process from other conditions of existence. I think there can be little doubt + of the verdict. The force exerted is wasted, if you please, but it is enormously + great, and more than sufficient to prove that those who daily exert it are by no + means idle. Besides, none of the inevitable outward and visible results of idleness + are apparent in the ordinary society man or woman. On the contrary, most of them + exhibit the peculiar and unmistakable signs of physical exhaustion, chief of which is + cerebral anæmia. They are overtrained and overworked. In the language of + training they are "stale."</p> + <p>Men like Orsino Saracinesca are not vicious at his age, though they may become so. + Vice begins when the excitement ceases to be a matter of taste and turns into a + necessity. Orsino gambled because it amused him when no other amusement was + obtainable, and he drank while he played because it made the amusement seem more + amusing. He was far too young and healthy and strong to feel an irresistible longing + for anything not natural.</p> + <p>On the present occasion he cared very little, at first, whether he won or lost, + and as often happens to a man in that mood he won a considerable sum during the first + hour. The sight of the notes before him strengthened an idea which had crossed his + mind more than once of late, and the stimulants he drank suddenly fixed it into a + purpose. It was true that he did not command any sum of money which could be + dignified by the name of capital, but he generally had enough in his pocket to play + with, and to-night he had rather more than usual. It struck him that if he could win + a few thousands by a run of luck, he would have more than enough to try his fortune + in the building speculations of which Del Ferice had talked. The scheme took shape + and at once lent a passionate interest to his play.</p> + <p>Orsino had no system and generally left everything to chance, but he had no sooner + determined that he must win than he improvised a method, and began to play carefully. + Of course he lost, and as he saw his heap of notes diminishing, he filled his glass + more and more often. By two o'clock he had but five hundred francs left, his face was + deadly pale, the lights dazzled him and his hands moved uncertainly. He held the bank + and he knew that if he lost on the card he must borrow money, which he did not wish + to do.</p> + <p>He dealt himself a five of spades, and glanced at the stakes. They were + considerable. A last sensation of caution prevented him from taking another card. The + table turned up a six and he lost.</p> + <p>"Lend me some money, Filippo," he said to the man nearest him, who immediately + counted out a number of notes.</p> + <p>Orsino paid with the money and the bank passed. He emptied his glass and lit a + cigarette. At each succeeding deal he staked a small sum and lost it, till the bank + came to him again. Once more he held a five. The other men saw that he was losing and + put up all they could. Orsino hesitated. Some one observed justly that he probably + held a five again. The lights swam indistinctly before him and he drew another card. + It was a four. Orsino laughed nervously as he gathered the notes and paid back what + he had borrowed.</p> + <p>He did not remember clearly what happened afterwards. The faces of the cards grew + less distinct and the lights more dazzling. He played blindly and won almost without + interruption until the other men dropped off one by one, having lost as much as they + cared to part with at one sitting. At four o'clock in the morning Orsino went home in + a cab, having about fifteen thousand francs in his pockets. The men he had played + with were mostly young fellows like himself, having a limited allowance of pocket + money, and Orsino's winnings were very large under the circumstances.</p> + <p>The night air cooled his head and he laughed gaily to himself as he drove through + the deserted streets. His hand was steady enough now, and the gas lamps did not move + disagreeably before his eyes. But he had reached the stage of excitement in which a + fixed idea takes hold of the brain, and if it had been possible he would undoubtedly + have gone as he was, in evening dress, with his winnings in his pocket, to rouse Del + Ferice, or San Giacinto, or any one else who could put him in the way of risking his + money on a building lot. He reluctantly resigned himself to the necessity of going to + bed, and slept as one sleeps at twenty-one until nearly eleven o'clock on the + following morning.</p> + <p>While he dressed he recalled the circumstances of the previous night and was + surprised to find that his idea was as fixed as ever. He counted the money. There was + five times as much as the Del Ferice's carpenter, tobacconist and mason had been able + to scrape together amongst them. He had therefore, according to his simple + calculation, just five times as good a chance of succeeding as they. And they had + been successful. His plan fascinated him, and he looked forward to the constant + interest and occupation with a delight which was creditable to his character. He + would be busy and the magic word "business" rang in his ears. It was speculation, no + doubt, but he did not look upon it as a form of gambling; if he had done so, he would + not have cared for it on two consecutive days. It was something much better in his + eyes. It was to do something, to be some one, to strike out of the everlastingly dull + road which lay before him and which ended in the vanishing point of an insignificant + old age.</p> + <p>He had not the very faintest conception of what that business was with which he + aspired to occupy himself. He was totally ignorant of the methods of dealing with + money, and he no more knew what a draft at three months meant than he could have + explained the construction of the watch he carried in his pocket. Of the first + principles of building he knew, if possible, even less and he did not know whether + land in the city were worth a franc or a thousand francs by the square foot. But he + said to himself that those things were mere details, and that he could learn all he + needed of them in a fortnight. Courage and judgment, Del Ferice had said, were the + chief requisites for success. Courage he possessed, and he believed himself cool. He + would avail himself of the judgment of others until he could judge for himself.</p> + <p>He knew very well what his father would think of the whole plan, but he had no + intention of concealing his project. Since yesterday, he was of age and was therefore + his own master to the extent of his own small resources. His father had not the power + to keep him from entering upon any honourable undertaking, though he might justly + refuse to be responsible for the consequences. At the worst, thought Orsino, those + consequences might be the loss of the money he had in hand. Since he had nothing else + to risk, he had nothing else to lose. That is the light in which most inexperienced + people regard speculation. Orsino therefore went to his father and unfolded his + scheme, without mentioning Del Ferice.</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario listened rather impatiently and laughed when Orsino had finished. He + did not mean to be unkind, and if he had dreamed of the effect his manner would + produce, he would have been more careful. But he did not understand his son, as he + himself had been understood by his own father.</p> + <p>"This is all nonsense, my boy," he answered. "It is a mere passing fancy. What do + you know of business or architecture, or of a dozen other matters which you ought to + understand thoroughly before attempting anything like what you propose?"</p> + <p>Orsino was silent, and looked out of the window, though he was evidently + listening.</p> + <p>"You say you want an occupation. This is not one. Banking is an occupation, and + architecture is a career, but what we call affairs in Rome are neither one nor the + other. If you want to be a banker you must go into a bank and do clerk's work for + years. If you mean to follow architecture as a profession you must spend four or five + years in study at the very least."</p> + <p>"San Giacinto has not done that," observed Orsino coldly.</p> + <p>"San Giacinto has a very much better head on his shoulders than you, or I, or + almost any other man in Rome. He has known how to make use of other men's talents, + and he had a rather more practical education than I would have cared to give you. If + he were not one of the most honest men alive he would certainly have turned out one + of the greatest scoundrels."</p> + <p>"I do not see what that has to do with it," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"Not much, I confess. But his early life made him understand men as you and I + cannot understand them, and need not, for that matter."</p> + <p>"Then you object to my trying this?"</p> + <p>"I do nothing of the kind. When I object to the doing of anything I prevent it, by + fair words or by force. I am not inclined for a pitched battle with you, Orsino, and + I might not get the better of you after all. I will be perfectly neutral. I will have + nothing to do with this business. If I believed in it, I would give you all the + capital you could need, but I shall not diminish your allowance in order to hinder + you from throwing it away. If you want more money for your amusements or luxuries, + say so. I am not fond of counting small expenses, and I have not brought you up to + count them either. Do not gamble at cards any more than you can help, but if you lose + and must borrow, borrow of me. When I think you are going too far, I will tell you + so. But do not count upon me for any help in this scheme of yours. You will not get + it. If you find yourself in a commercial scrape, find your own way out of it. If you + want better advice than mine, go to San Giacinto. He will give you a practical man's + view of the case."</p> + <p>"You are frank, at all events," said Orsino, turning from the window and facing + his father.</p> + <p>"Most of us are in this house," answered Sant' Ilario. "That will make it all the + harder for you to deal with the scoundrels who call themselves men of business."</p> + <p>"I mean to try this, father," said the young man. "I will go and see San Giacinto, + as you suggest, and I will ask his opinion. But if he discourages me I will try my + luck all the same. I cannot lead this life any longer. I want an occupation and I + will make one for myself."</p> + <p>"It is not an occupation that you want, Orsino. It is another excitement. That is + all. If you want an occupation, study, learn something, find out what work means. Or + go to Saracinesca and build houses for the peasants—you will do no harm there, + at all events. Go and drain that land in Lombardy—I can do nothing with it and + would sell it if I could. But that is not what you want. You want an excitement for + the hours of the morning. Very well. You will probably find more of it than you like. + Try it, that is all I have to say."</p> + <p>Like many very just men Giovanni could state a case with alarming unfairness when + thoroughly convinced that he was right. Orsino stood still for a moment and then + walked towards the door without another word. His father called him back.</p> + <p>"What is it?" asked Orsino coldly.</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario held out his hand with a kindly look in his eyes.</p> + <p>"I do not want you to think that I am angry, my boy. There is to be no ill feeling + between us about this."</p> + <p>"None whatever," said the young man, though without much alacrity, as he shook + hands with his father. "I see you are not angry. You do not understand me, that is + all."</p> + <p>He went out, more disappointed with the result of the interview than he had + expected, though he had not looked forward to receiving any encouragement. He had + known very well what his father's views were but he had not foreseen that he would be + so much irritated by the expression of them. His determination hardened and he + resolved that nothing should hinder him. But he was both willing and ready to consult + San Giacinto, and went to the latter's house immediately on leaving Sant' Ilario's + study.</p> + <p>As for Giovanni, he was dimly conscious that he had made a mistake, though he did + not care to acknowledge it. He was a good horseman and he was aware that he would + have used a very different method with a restive colt. But few men are wise enough to + see that there is only one universal principle to follow in the exertion of strength, + moral or physical; and instead of seeking analogies out of actions familiar to them + as a means of accomplishing the unfamiliar, they try to discover new theories of + motion at every turn and are led farther and farther from the right line by their own + desire to reach the end quickly.</p> + <p>"At all events," thought Sant' Ilario, "the boy's new hobby will take him to + places where he is not likely to meet that woman."</p> + <p>And with this discourteous reflection upon Madame d'Aranjuez he consoled himself. + He did not think it necessary to tell Corona of Orsino's intentions, simply because + he did not believe that they would lead to anything serious, and there was no use in + disturbing her unnecessarily with visions of future annoyance. If Orsino chose to + speak of it to her, he was at liberty to do so.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_X" name='CHAPTER_X'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER X.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino went directly to San Giacinto's house, and found him in the room which he + used for working and in which he received the many persons whom he was often obliged + to see on business. The giant was alone and was seated behind a broad polished table, + occupied in writing. Orsino was struck by the extremely orderly arrangement of + everything he saw. Papers were tied together in bundles of exactly like shape, which + lay in two lines of mathematical precision. The big inkstand was just in the middle + of the rows and a paper-cutter, a pen-rack and an erasing knife lay side by side in + front of it. The walls were lined with low book-cases of a heavy and severe type, + filled principally with documents neatly filed in volumes and marked on the back in + San Giacinto's clear handwriting. The only object of beauty in the room was a + full-length portrait of Flavia by a great artist, which hung above the fireplace. The + rigid symmetry of everything was made imposing by the size of the objects—the + table was larger than ordinary tables, the easy-chairs were deeper, broader and lower + than common, the inkstand was bigger, even the penholder in San Giacinto's fingers + was longer and thicker than any Orsino had ever seen. And yet the latter felt that + there was no affectation about all this. The man to whom these things belonged and + who used them daily was himself created on a scale larger than other men.</p> + <p>Though he was older than Sant' Ilario and was, in fact, not far from sixty years + of age San Giacinto might easily have passed for less than fifty. There was hardly a + grey thread in his short, thick, black hair, and he was still as lean and strong, and + almost as active, as he had been thirty years earlier. The large features were + perhaps a little more bony and the eyes somewhat deeper than they had been, but these + changes lent an air of dignity rather than of age to the face.</p> + <p>He rose to meet Orsino and then made him sit down beside the table. The young man + suddenly felt an unaccountable sense of inferiority and hesitated as to how he should + begin.</p> + <p>"I suppose you want to consult me about something," said San Giacinto quietly.</p> + <p>"Yes. I want to ask your advice, if you will give it to me—about a matter of + business."</p> + <p>"Willingly. What is it?"</p> + <p>Orsino was silent for a moment and stared at the wall. He was conscious that the + very small sum of which he could dispose must seem even smaller in the eyes of such a + man, but this did not disturb him. He was oppressed by San Giacinto's personality and + prepared himself to speak as though he had been a student undergoing oral + examination. He stated his case plainly, when he at last spoke. He was of age and he + looked forward with dread to an idle life. All careers were closed to him. He had + fifteen thousand francs in his pocket. Could San Giacinto help him to occupy himself + by investing the sum in a building speculation? Was the sum sufficient as a + beginning? Those were the questions.</p> + <p>San Giacinto did not laugh as Sant' Ilario had done. He listened very attentively + to the end and then deliberately offered Orsino a cigar and lit one himself, before + he delivered his answer.</p> + <p>"You are asking the same question which is put to me very often," he said at last. + "I wish I could give you any encouragement. I cannot."</p> + <p>Orsino's face fell, for the reply was categorical. He drew back a little in his + chair, but said nothing.</p> + <p>"That is my answer," continued San Giacinto thoughtfully, "but when one says 'no' + to another the subject is not necessarily exhausted. On the contrary, in such a case + as this I cannot let you go without giving you my reasons. I do not care to give my + views to the public, but such as they are, you are welcome to them. The time is past. + That is why I advise you to have nothing to do with any speculation of this kind. + That is the best of all reasons."</p> + <p>"But you yourself are still engaged in this business," objected Orsino.</p> + <p>"Not so deeply as you fancy. I have sold almost everything which I do not consider + a certainty, and am selling what little I still have as fast as I can. In speculation + there are only two important moments—the moment to buy and the moment to sell. + In my opinion, this is the time to sell, and I do not think that the time for buying + will come again without a crisis."</p> + <p>"But everything is in such a flourishing state—"</p> + <p>"No doubt it is—to-day. But no one can tell what state business will be in + next week, nor even to-morrow."</p> + <p>"There is Del Ferice—"</p> + <p>"No doubt, and a score like him," answered San Giacinto, looking quietly at + Orsino. "Del Ferice is a banker, and I am a speculator, as you wish to be. His + position is different from ours. It is better to leave him out of the question. Let + us look at the matter logically. You wish to speculate—"</p> + <p>"Excuse me," said Orsino, interrupting him. "I want to try what I can do in + business."</p> + <p>"You wish to risk money, in one way or another. You therefore wish one or more of + three things—money for its own sake, excitement or occupation. I can hardly + suppose that you want money. Eliminate that. Excitement is not a legitimate aim, and + you can get it more safely in other ways. Therefore you want occupation."</p> + <p>"That is precisely what I said at the beginning," observed Orsino with a shade of + irritation.</p> + <p>"Yes. But I like to reach my conclusions in my own way. You are then a young man + in search of an occupation. Speculation, and what you propose is nothing else, is no + more an occupation than playing at the public lottery and much less one than playing + at baccarat. There at least you are responsible for your own mistakes and in decent + society you are safe from the machinations of dishonest people. That would matter + less if the chances were in your favour, as they might have been a year ago and as + they were in mine from the beginning. They are against you now, because it is too + late, and they are against me. I would as soon buy a piece of land on credit at the + present moment, as give the whole sum in cash to the first man I met in the + street."</p> + <p>"Yet there is Montevarchi who still buys—"</p> + <p>"Montevarchi is not worth the paper on which he signs his name," said San Giacinto + calmly.</p> + <p>Orsino uttered an exclamation of surprise and incredulity.</p> + <p>"You may tell him so, if you please," answered the giant with perfect + indifference. "If you tell any one what I have said, please to tell him first, that + is all. He will not believe you. But in six months he will know it, I fancy, as well + as I know it now. He might have doubled his fortune, but he was and is totally + ignorant of business. He thought it enough to invest all he could lay hands on and + that the returns would be sure. He has invested forty millions and owns property + which he believes to be worth sixty, but which will not bring ten in six months, and + those remaining ten millions he owes on all manner of paper, on mortgages on his + original property, in a dozen ways which he has forgotten himself."</p> + <p>"I do not see how that is possible!" exclaimed Orsino.</p> + <p>"I am a plain man, Orsino, and I am your cousin. You may take it for granted that + I am right. Do not forget that I was brought up in a hand-to-hand struggle for + fortune such as you cannot dream of. When I was your age I was a practical man of + business, and I had taught myself, and it was all on such a small scale that a + mistake of a hundred francs made the difference between profit and loss. I dislike + details, but I have been a man of detail all my life, by force of circumstances. + Successful business implies the comprehension of details. It is tedious work, and if + you mean to try it you must begin at the beginning. You ought to do so. There is an + enormous business before you, with considerable capabilities in it. If I were in your + place, I would take what fell naturally to my lot."</p> + <p>"What is that?"</p> + <p>"Farming. They call it agriculture in parliament, because they do not know what + farming means. The men who think that Italy can live without farmers are fools. We + are not a manufacturing people any more than we are a business people. The best + dictator for us would be a practical farmer, a ploughman like Cincinnatus. Nobody who + has not tried to raise wheat on an Italian mountain-side knows the great difficulties + or the great possibilities of our country. Do you know that bad as our farming is, + and absurd as is our system of land taxation, we are food exporters, to a small + extent? The beginning is there. Take my advice, be a farmer. Manage one of the big + estates you have amongst you for five or six years. You will not do much good to the + land in that time, but you will learn what land really means. Then go into parliament + and tell people facts. That is an occupation and a career as well, which cannot be + said of speculation in building lots, large or small. If you have any ready money + keep it in government bonds until you have a chance of buying something worth + keeping."</p> + <p>Orsino went away disappointed and annoyed. San Giacinto's talk about farming + seemed very dull to him. To bury himself for half a dozen years in the country in + order to learn the rotation of crops and the principles of land draining did not + present itself as an attractive career. If San Giacinto thought farming the great + profession of the future, why did he not try it himself? Orsino dismissed the idea + rather indignantly, and his determination to try his luck became stronger by the + opposition it met. Moreover he had expected very different language from San + Giacinto, whose sober view jarred on Orsino's enthusiastic impulse.</p> + <p>But he now found himself in considerable difficulty. He was ignorant even of the + first steps to be taken, and knew no one to whom he could apply for information. + There was Prince Montevarchi indeed, who though he was San Giacinto's brother-in-law, + seemed by the latter's account to have got into trouble. He did not understand how + San Giacinto could allow his wife's brother to ruin himself without lending him a + helping hand, but San Giacinto was not the kind of man of whom people ask indiscreet + questions, and Orsino had heard that the two men were not on the best of terms. + Possibly good advice had been offered and refused. Such affairs generally end in a + breach of friendship. However that might be, Orsino would not go to Montevarchi.</p> + <p>He wandered aimlessly about the streets, and the money seemed to burn in his + pocket, though he had carefully deposited it in a place of safety at home. Again and + again Del Ferice's story of the carpenter and his two companions recurred to his + mind. He wondered how they had set about beginning, and he wished he could ask Del + Ferice himself. He could not go to the man's house, but he might possibly meet him at + Maria Consuelo's. He was surprised to find that he had almost forgotten her in his + anxiety to become a man of business. It was too early to call yet, and in order to + kill the time he went home, got a horse from the stables and rode out into the + country for a couple of hours.</p> + <p>At half-past five o'clock he entered the familiar little sitting-room in the + hotel. Madame d'Aranjuez was alone, cutting a new book with the jewelled knife which + continued to be the only object of the kind visible in the room. She smiled as Orsino + entered, and she laid aside the volume as he sat down in his accustomed place.</p> + <p>"I thought you were not coming," she said.</p> + <p>"Why?"</p> + <p>"You always come at five. It is half-past to-day." Orsino looked at his watch.</p> + <p>"Do you notice whether I come or not?" he asked.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo glanced at his face, and laughed.</p> + <p>"What have you been doing to-day?" she asked. "That is much more interesting."</p> + <p>"Is it? I am afraid not. I have been listening to those disagreeable things which + are called truths by the people who say them. I have listened to two lectures + delivered by two very intelligent men for my especial benefit. It seems to me that as + soon as I make a good resolution it becomes the duty of sensible people to + demonstrate that I am a fool."</p> + <p>"You are not in a good humour. Tell me all about it."</p> + <p>"And weary you with my grievances? No. Is Del Ferice coming this afternoon?"</p> + <p>"How can I tell? He does not come often."</p> + <p>"I thought he came almost every day," said Orsino gloomily.</p> + <p>He was disappointed, but Maria Consuelo did not understand what was the matter. + She leaned forward in her low seat, her chin resting upon one hand, and her tawny + eyes fixed on Orsino's.</p> + <p>"Tell me, my friend—are you unhappy? Can I do anything? Will you tell + me?"</p> + <p>It was not easy to resist the appeal. Though the two had grown intimate of late, + there had hitherto always been something cold and reserved behind her outwardly + friendly manner. To-day she seemed suddenly willing to be different. Her easy, + graceful attitude, her soft voice full of promised sympathy, above all the look in + her strange eyes revealed a side of her character which Orsino had not suspected and + which affected him in a way he could not have described.</p> + <p>Without hesitation he told her his story, from beginning to end, simply, without + comment and without any of the cutting phrases which came so readily to his tongue on + most occasions. She listened very thoughtfully to the end.</p> + <p>"Those things are not misfortunes," she said. "But they may be the beginnings of + unhappiness. To be unhappy is worse than any misfortune. What right has your father + to laugh at you? Because he never needed to do anything for himself, he thinks it + absurd that his son should dislike the lazy life that is prepared for him. It is not + reasonable—it is not kind!"</p> + <p>"Yet he means to be both, I suppose," said Orsino bitterly.</p> + <p>"Oh, of course! People always mean to be the soul of logic and the paragon of + charity! Especially where their own children are concerned."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo added the last words with more feeling than seemed justified by her + sympathy for Orsino's woes. The moment was perhaps favourable for asking a leading + question about herself, and her answer might have thrown light on her problematic + past. But Orsino was too busy with his own troubles to think of that, and the + opportunity slipped by and was lost.</p> + <p>"You know now why I want to see Del Ferice," he said. "I cannot go to his house. + My only chance of talking to him lies here."</p> + <p>"And that is what brings you? You are very flattering!"</p> + <p>"Do not be unjust! We all look forward to meeting our friends in heaven."</p> + <p>"Very pretty. I forgive you. But I am afraid that you will not meet Del Ferice. I + do not think he has left the Chambers yet. There was to be a debate this afternoon in + which he had to speak."</p> + <p>"Does he make speeches?"</p> + <p>"Very good ones. I have heard him."</p> + <p>"I have never been inside the Chambers," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"You are not very patriotic. You might go there and ask for Del Ferice. You could + see him without going to his house—without compromising your dignity."</p> + <p>"Why do you laugh?"</p> + <p>"Because it all seems to me so absurd. You know that you are perfectly free to go + and see him when and where you will. There is nothing to prevent you. He is the one + man of all others whose advice you need. He has an unexceptional position in the + world—no doubt he has done strange things, but so have dozens of people whom + you know—his present reputation is excellent, I say. And yet, because some + twenty years ago, when you were a child, he held one opinion and your father held + another, you are interdicted from crossing his threshold! If you can shake hands with + him here, you can take his hand in his own house. Is not that true?"</p> + <p>"Theoretically, I daresay, but not in practice. You see it yourself. You have + chosen one side from the first, and all the people on the other side know it. As a + foreigner, you are not bound to either, and you can know everybody in time, if you + please. Society is not so prejudiced as to object to that. But because you begin with + the Del Ferice in a very uncompromising way, it would take a long time for you to + know the Montevarchi, for instance."</p> + <p>"Who told you that I was a foreigner?" asked Maria Consuelo, rather abruptly.</p> + <p>"You yourself—"</p> + <p>"That is good authority!" She laughed. "I do not remember—ah! because I do + not speak Italian? You mean that? One may forget one's own language, or for that + matter one may never have learned it."</p> + <p>"Are you Italian, then, Madame?" asked Orsino, surprised that she should lead the + conversation so directly to a point which he had supposed must be reached by a series + of tactful approaches.</p> + <p>"Who knows? I am sure I do not. My father was Italian. Does that constitute + nationality?"</p> + <p>"Yes. But the woman takes the nationality of her husband, I believe," said Orsino, + anxious to hear more.</p> + <p>"Ah yes—poor Aranjuez!" Maria Consuelo's voice suddenly took that sleepy + tone which Orsino had heard more than once. Her eyelids drooped a little and she + lazily opened and shut her hand, and spread out the fingers and looked at them.</p> + <p>But Orsino was not satisfied to let the conversation drop at this point, and after + a moment's pause he put a decisive question.</p> + <p>"And was Monsieur d'Aranjuez also Italian?" he asked.</p> + <p>"What does it matter?" she asked in the same indolent tone. "Yes, since you ask + me, he was Italian, poor man."</p> + <p>Orsino was more and more puzzled. That the name did not exist in Italy he was + almost convinced. He thought of the story of the Signor Aragno, who had fallen + overboard in the south seas, and then he was suddenly aware that he could not believe + in anything of the sort. Maria Consuelo did not betray a shade of emotion, either, at + the mention of her deceased husband. She seemed absorbed in the contemplation of her + hands. Orsino had not been rebuked for his curiosity and would have asked another + question if he had known how to frame it. An awkward silence followed. Maria Consuelo + raised her eyes slowly and looked thoughtfully into Orsino's face.</p> + <p>"I see," she said at last. "You are curious. I do not know whether you have any + right to be—have you?"</p> + <p>"I wish I had!" exclaimed Orsino thoughtlessly.</p> + <p>Again she looked at him in silence for some moments.</p> + <p>"I have not known you long enough," she said. "And if I had known you longer, + perhaps it would not be different. Are other people curious, too? Do they talk about + me?"</p> + <p>"The people I know do—but they do not know you. They see your name in the + papers, as a beautiful Spanish princess. Yet everybody is aware that there is no + Spanish nobleman of your name. Of course they are curious. They invent stories about + you, which I deny. If I knew more, it would be easier."</p> + <p>"Why do you take the trouble to deny such things?"</p> + <p>She asked the question with a change of manner. Once more she leaned forward and + her face softened wonderfully as she looked at him.</p> + <p>"Can you not guess?" he asked.</p> + <p>He was conscious of a very unusual emotion, not at all in harmony with the + imaginary character he had chosen for himself, and which he generally maintained with + considerable success. Maria Consuelo was one person when she leaned back in her + chair, laughing or idly listening to his talk, or repulsing the insignificant + declarations of devotion which were not even meant to be taken altogether in earnest. + She was pretty then, attractive, graceful, feminine, a little artificial, perhaps, + and Orsino felt that he was free to like her or not, as he pleased, but that he + pleased to like her for the present. She was quite another woman to-day, as she bent + forward, her tawny eyes growing darker and more mysterious every moment, her auburn + hair casting wonderful shadows upon her broad pale forehead, her lips not closed as + usual, but slightly parted, her fragrant breath just stirring the quiet air Orsino + breathed. Her features might be irregular. It did not matter. She was beautiful for + the moment with a kind of beauty Orsino had never seen, and which produced a sudden + and overwhelming effect upon him.</p> + <p>"Do you not know?" he asked again, and his voice trembled unexpectedly.</p> + <p>"Thank you," she said softly and she touched his hand almost caressingly.</p> + <p>But when he would have taken it, she drew back instantly and was once more the + woman whom he saw every day, careless, indifferent, pretty.</p> + <p>"Why do you change so quickly?" he asked in a low voice, bending towards her. "Why + do you snatch your hand away? Are you afraid of me?"</p> + <p>"Why should I be afraid? Are you dangerous?"</p> + <p>"You are. You may be fatal, for all I know."</p> + <p>"How foolish!" she exclaimed, with a quick glance.</p> + <p>"You are Madame d'Aranjuez, now," he answered. "We had better change the + subject."</p> + <p>"What do you mean?"</p> + <p>"A moment ago you were Consuelo," he said boldly.</p> + <p>"Have I given you any right to say that?"</p> + <p>"A little."</p> + <p>"I am sorry. I will be more careful. I am sure I cannot imagine why you should + think of me at all, unless when you are talking to me, and then I do not wish to be + called by my Christian name. I assure you, you are never anything in my thoughts but + His Excellency Prince Orsino Saracinesca—with as many titles after that as may + belong to you."</p> + <p>"I have none," said Orsino.</p> + <p>Her speech irritated him strongly, and the illusion which had been so powerful a + few moments earlier all but disappeared.</p> + <p>"Then you advise me to go and find Del Ferice at Monte Citorio," he observed.</p> + <p>"If you like." She laughed. "There is no mistaking your intention when you mean to + change the subject," she added.</p> + <p>"You made it sufficiently clear that the other was disagreeable to you."</p> + <p>"I did not mean to do so."</p> + <p>"Then in heaven's name, what do you mean, Madame?" he asked, suddenly losing his + head in his extreme annoyance.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo raised her eyebrows in surprise.</p> + <p>"Why are you so angry?" she asked. "Do you know that it is very rude to speak like + that?"</p> + <p>"I cannot help it. What have I done to-day that you should torment me as you + do?"</p> + <p>"I? I torment you? My dear friend, you are quite mad."</p> + <p>"I know I am. You make me so."</p> + <p>"Will you tell me how? What have I done? What have I said? You Romans are + certainly the most extraordinary people. It is impossible to please you. If one + laughs, you become tragic. If one is serious, you grow gay! I wish I understood you + better."</p> + <p>"You will end by making it impossible for me to understand myself," said Orsino. + "You say that I am changeable. Then what are you?"</p> + <p>"Very much the same to-day as yesterday," said Maria Consuelo calmly. "And I do + not suppose that I shall be very different to-morrow."</p> + <p>"At least I will take my chance of finding that you are mistaken," said Orsino, + rising suddenly, and standing before her.</p> + <p>"Are you going?" she asked, as though she were surprised.</p> + <p>"Since I cannot please you."</p> + <p>"Since you will not."</p> + <p>"I do not know how."</p> + <p>"Be yourself—the same that you always are. You are affecting to be some one + else, to-day."</p> + <p>"I fancy it is the other way," answered Orsino, with more truth than he really + owned to himself.</p> + <p>"Then I prefer the affectation to the reality."</p> + <p>"As you will, Madame. Good evening."</p> + <p>He crossed the room to go out. She called him back.</p> + <p>"Don Orsino!"</p> + <p>He turned sharply round.</p> + <p>"Madame?"</p> + <p>Seeing that he did not move, she rose and went to him. He looked down into her + face and saw that it was changed again.</p> + <p>"Are you really angry?" she asked. There was something girlish in the way she + asked the question, and, for a moment, in her whole manner.</p> + <p>Orsino could not help smiling. But he said nothing.</p> + <p>"No, you are not," she continued. "I can see it. Do you know? I am very glad. It + was foolish of me to tease you. You will forgive me? This once?"</p> + <p>"If you will give me warning the next time." He found that he was looking into her + eyes.</p> + <p>"What is the use of warning?" she asked.</p> + <p>They were very close together, and there was a moment's silence. Suddenly Orsino + forgot everything and bent down, clasping her in his arms and kissing her again and + again. It was brutal, rough, senseless, but he could not help it.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo uttered a short, sharp cry, more of surprise, perhaps, than of + horror. To Orsino's amazement and confusion her voice was immediately answered by + another, which was that of the dark and usually silent maid, whom he had seen once or + twice. The woman ran into the room, terrified by the cry she had heard.</p> + <p>"Madame felt faint in crossing the room, and was falling when I caught her," said + Orsino, with a coolness that did him credit.</p> + <p>And, in fact, Maria Consuelo closed her eyes as he let her sink into the nearest + chair. The maid fell on her knees beside her mistress and began chafing her + hands.</p> + <p>"The poor Signora!" she exclaimed. "She should never be left alone! She has not + been herself since the poor Signore died. You had better leave us, sir—I will + put her to bed when she revives. It often happens—pray do not be anxious!"</p> + <p>Orsino picked up his hat and left the room.</p> + <p>"Oh—it often happens, does it?" he said to himself as he closed the door + softly behind him and walked down the corridor of the hotel.</p> + <p>He was more amazed at his own boldness than he cared to own. He had not supposed + that scenes of this description produced themselves so very unexpectedly, and, as it + were, without any fixed intention on the part of the chief actor. He remembered that + he had been very angry with Madame d'Aranjuez, that she had spoken half a dozen + words, and that he had felt an irresistible impulse to kiss her. He had done so, and + he thought with considerable trepidation of their next meeting. She had screamed, + which showed that she was outraged by his boldness. It was doubtful whether she would + receive him again. The best thing to be done, he thought, was to write her a very + humble letter of apology, explaining his conduct as best he could. This did not + accord very well with his principles, but he had already transgressed them in being + so excessively hasty. Her eyes had certainly been provoking in the extreme, and it + had been impossible to resist the expression on her lips. But at all events, he + should have begun by kissing her hand, which she would certainly not have withdrawn + again—then he might have put his arm round her and drawn her head to his + shoulder. These were preliminaries in the matter of kissing which it was undoubtedly + right to observe, and he had culpably neglected them. He had been abominably brutal, + and he ought to apologise. Nevertheless, he would not have forfeited the recollection + of that moment for all the other recollections of his life, and he knew it. As he + walked along the street he felt a wild exhilaration such as he had never known + before. He owned gladly to himself that he loved Maria Consuelo, and resolutely + thrust away the idea that his boyish vanity was pleased by the snatching of a + kiss.</p> + <p>Whatever the real nature of his delight might be it was for the time so sincere + that he even forgot to light a cigarette in order to think over the + circumstances.</p> + <p>Walking rapidly up the Corso he came to the Piazza Colonna, and the glare of the + electric light somehow recalled him to himself.</p> + <p>"Great speech of the Honourable Del Ferice!" yelled a newsboy in his ear. + "Ministerial crisis! Horrible murder of a grocer!"</p> + <p>Orsino mechanically turned to the right in the direction of the Chambers. Del + Ferice had probably gone home, since his speech was already in print. But fate had + ordained otherwise. Del Ferice had corrected his proofs on the spot and had lingered + to talk with his friends before going home. Not that it mattered much, for Orsino + could have found him as well on the following day. His brougham was standing in front + of the great entrance and he himself was shaking hands with a tall man under the + light of the lamps. Orsino went up to him.</p> + <p>"Could you spare me a quarter of an hour?" asked the young man in a voice + constrained by excitement. He felt that he was embarked at last upon his great + enterprise.</p> + <p>Del Ferice looked up in some astonishment. He had reason to dread the quarrelsome + disposition of the Saracinesca as a family, and he wondered what Orsino wanted.</p> + <p>"Certainly, certainly, Don Orsino," he answered, with a particularly bland smile. + "Shall we drive, or at least sit in my carriage? I am a little fatigued with my + exertions to-day."</p> + <p>The tall man bowed and strolled away, biting the end of an unlit cigar.</p> + <p>"It is a matter of business," said Orsino, before entering the carriage. "Can you + help me to try my luck—in a very small way—in one of the building + enterprises you manage?"</p> + <p>"Of course I can, and will," answered Del Ferice, more and more astonished. "After + you, my dear Don Orsino, after you," he repeated, pushing the young man into the + brougham. "Quiet streets—till I stop you," he said to the footman, as he + himself got in.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XI" name='CHAPTER_XI'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + <p>Del Ferice was surprised beyond measure at Orsino's request, and was not guilty of + any profoundly nefarious intention when he so readily acceded to it. His own + character made him choose as a rule to refuse nothing that was asked of him, though + his promises were not always fulfilled afterwards. To express his own willingness to + help those who asked, was of course not the same as asserting his power to give + assistance when the time should come. In the present case he did not even make up his + mind which of two courses he would ultimately pursue. Orsino came to him with a small + sum of ready money in his hand. Del Ferice had it in his power to make him lose that + sum, and a great deal more besides, thereby causing the boy endless trouble with his + family; or else the banker could, if he pleased, help him to a very considerable + success. His really superior talent for diplomacy inclined him to choose the latter + plan, but he was far too cautious to make any hasty decision.</p> + <p>The brougham rolled on through quiet and ill-lighted streets, and Del Ferice + leaned back in his corner, not listening at all to Orsino's talk, though he + occasionally uttered a polite though utterly unintelligible syllable or two which + might mean anything agreeable to his companion's views. The situation was easy enough + to understand, and he had grasped it in a moment. What Orsino might say was of no + importance whatever, but the consequences of any action on Del Ferice's part might be + serious and lasting.</p> + <p>Orsino stated his many reasons for wishing to engage in business, as he had stated + them more than once already during the day and during the past weeks, and when he had + finished he repeated his first question.</p> + <p>"Can you help me to try my luck?" he asked.</p> + <p>Del Ferice awoke from his reverie with characteristic readiness and realised that + he must say something. His voice had never been strong and he leaned out of his + corner of the carriage in order to speak near Orsino's ear.</p> + <p>"I am delighted with all you say," he began, "and I scarcely need repeat that my + services are altogether at your disposal. The only question is, how are we to begin? + The sum you mention is certainly not large, but that does not matter. You would have + little difficulty in raising as many hundreds of thousands as you have thousands, if + money were necessary. But in business of this kind the only ready money needed is for + stamp duty and for the wages of workmen, and the banks advance what is necessary for + the latter purpose, in small sums on notes of hand guaranteed by a general mortgage. + When you have paid the stamp duties, you may go to the club and lose the balance of + your capital at baccarat if you please. The loss in that direction will not affect + your credit as a contractor. All that is very simple. You wish to succeed, however, + not at cards, but at business. That is the difficulty."</p> + <p>Del Ferice paused.</p> + <p>"That is not very clear to me," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"No—no," answered Del Ferice thoughtfully. "No—I daresay it is not so + very clear. I wish I could make it clearer. Speculation means gambling only when the + speculator is a gambler. Of course there are successful gamblers in the world, but + there are not many of them. I read somewhere the other day that business was the art + of handling other people's-money. The remark is not particularly true. Business is + the art of creating a value where none has yet existed. That is what you wish to do. + I do not think that a Saracinesca would take pleasure in turning over money not + belonging to him."</p> + <p>"Certainly not!" exclaimed Orsino. "That is usury."</p> + <p>"Not exactly, but it is banking; and banking, it is quite true, is usury within + legal bounds. There is no question of that here. The operation is simple in the + extreme. I sell you a piece of land on the understanding that you will build upon it, + and instead of payment you give me a mortgage. I lend you money from month to month + in small sums at a small interest, to pay for material and labour. You are only + responsible upon one point. The money is to be used for the purpose stated. When the + building is finished you sell it. If you sell it for cash, you pay off the mortgage, + and receive the difference. If you sell it with the mortgage, the buyer becomes the + mortgager and only pays you the difference, which remains yours, out and out. That is + the whole process from beginning to end."</p> + <p>"How wonderfully simple!"</p> + <p>"It is almost primitive in its simplicity," answered Del Ferice gravely. "But in + every case two difficulties present themselves, and I am bound to tell you that they + are serious ones."</p> + <p>"What are they?"</p> + <p>"You must know how to buy in the right part of the city and you must have a + competent assistant. The two conditions are indispensable."</p> + <p>"What sort of an assistant?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"A practical man. If possible, an architect, who will then have a share of the + profits instead of being paid for his work."</p> + <p>"Is it very hard to find such a person?"</p> + <p>"It is not easy."</p> + <p>"Do you think you could help me?"</p> + <p>"I do not know. I am assuming a great responsibility in doing so. You do not seem + to realise that, Don Orsino."</p> + <p>Del Ferice laughed a little in his quiet way, but Orsino was silent. It was the + first time that the banker had reminded him of the vast difference in their social + and political positions.</p> + <p>"I do not think it would be very wise of me to help you into such a business as + this," said Del Ferice cautiously. "I speak quite selfishly and for my own sake. + Success is never certain, and it would be a great injury to me if you failed."</p> + <p>He was beginning to make up his mind.</p> + <p>"Why?" asked Orsino. His own instincts of generosity were aroused. He would + certainly not do Del Ferice an injury if he could help it, nor allow him to incur the + risk of one.</p> + <p>"If you fail," answered the other, "all Rome will say that I have intentionally + brought about your failure. You know how people talk. Thousands will become millions + and I shall be accused of having plotted the destruction of your family, because your + father once wounded me in a duel, nearly five and twenty years ago."</p> + <p>"How absurd!"</p> + <p>"No, no. It is not absurd. I am afraid I have the reputation of being vindictive. + Well, well—it is in bad taste to talk of oneself. I am good at hating, perhaps, + but I have always felt that I preferred peace to war, and now I am growing old. I am + not what I once was, Don Orsino, and I do not like quarrelling. But I would not allow + people to say impertinent things about me, and if you failed and lost money, I should + be abused by your friends, and perhaps censured by my own. Do you see? Yes, I am + selfish. I admit it. You must forgive that weakness in me. I like peace."</p> + <p>"It is very natural," said Orsino, "and I have no right to put you in danger of + the slightest inconvenience. But, after all, why need I appear before the + public?"</p> + <p>Del Ferice smiled in the dark.</p> + <p>"True," he answered. "You could establish an anonymous firm, so to say, and the + documents would be a secret between you and me and the notary. Of course there are + many ways of managing such an affair quietly."</p> + <p>He did not add that the secret could only be kept so long as Orsino was + successful. It seemed a pity to damp so much good enthusiasm.</p> + <p>"We will do that, then, if you will show me how. My ambition is not to see my name + on a door-plate, but to be really occupied."</p> + <p>"I understand, I understand," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. "I must ask you to + give me until to-morrow to consider the matter. It needs a little thought."</p> + <p>"Where can I find you, to hear your decision?"</p> + <p>Del Ferice was silent for a moment.</p> + <p>"I think I once met you late in the afternoon at Madame d'Aranjuez's. We might + manage to meet there to-morrow and come away together. Shall we name an hour? Would + it suit you?"</p> + <p>"Perfectly," answered Orsino with alacrity.</p> + <p>The idea of meeting Maria Consuelo alone was very disturbing in his present state + of mind. He felt that he had lost his balance in his relations with her, and that in + order to regain it he must see her in the presence of a third person, if only for a + quarter of an hour. It would be easier, then, to resume the former intercourse and to + say whatever he should determine upon saying. If she were offended, she would at + least not show it in any marked way before Del Ferice. Orsino's existence, he + thought, was becoming complicated for the first time, and though he enjoyed the vague + sensation of impending difficulty, he wanted as many opportunities as possible of + reviewing the situation and of meditating upon each new move.</p> + <p>He got out of Del Ferice's carriage at no great distance from his own home, and + after a few words of very sincere thanks walked slowly away. He found it very hard to + arrange his thoughts in any consecutive order, though he tried several methods of + self-analysis, and repeated to himself that he had experienced a great happiness and + was probably on the threshold of a great success. These two reflections did not help + him much. The happiness had been of the explosive kind, and the success in the + business matter was more than problematic, as well as certainly distant in the + future.</p> + <p>He was very restless and craved the immediate excitement of further emotions, so + that he would certainly have gone to the club that night, had not the fear of losing + his small and precious capital deterred him. He thought of all that was coming and he + determined to be careful, even sordid if necessary, rather than lose his chance of + making the great attempt. Besides, he would cut a poor figure on the morrow if he + were obliged to admit to Del Ferice that he had lost his fifteen thousand francs and + was momentarily penniless. He accordingly shut himself up in his own room at an early + hour, and smoked in solitude until he was sleepy, reviewing the various events of the + day, or trying to do so, though his mind reverted constantly to the one chief event + of all, to the unaccountable outburst of passion by which he had perhaps offended + Maria Consuelo beyond forgiveness. With all his affectation of cynicism he had not + learned that sin is easy only because it meets with such very general encouragement. + Even if he had been aware of that undeniable fact, the knowledge might not have + helped him very materially.</p> + <p>The hours passed very slowly during the next day, and even when the appointed time + had come, Orsino allowed another quarter of an hour to go by before he entered the + hotel and ascended to the little sitting-room in which Maria Consuelo received. He + meant to be sure that Del Ferice was there before entering, but he was too proud to + watch for the latter's coming, or to inquire of the porter whether Maria Consuelo + were alone or not. It seemed simpler in every way to appear a little late.</p> + <p>But Del Ferice was a busy man and not always punctual, so that to Orsino's + considerable confusion, he found Maria Consuelo alone, in spite of his precaution. He + was so much surprised as to become awkward, for the first time in his life, and he + felt the blood rising in his face, dark as he was.</p> + <p>"Will you forgive me?" he asked, almost timidly, as he held out his hand.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo's tawny eyes looked curiously at him. Then she smiled suddenly.</p> + <p>"My dear child," she said, "you should not do such things! It is very foolish, you + know."</p> + <p>The answer was so unexpected and so exceedingly humiliating, as Orsino thought at + first, that he grew pale and drew back a little. But Maria Consuelo took no notice of + his behaviour, and settled herself in her accustomed chair.</p> + <p>"Did you find Del Ferice last night?" she asked, changing the subject without the + least hesitation.</p> + <p>"Yes," answered Orsino.</p> + <p>Almost before the word was spoken there was a knock at the door and Del Ferice + appeared. Orsino's face cleared, as though something pleasant had happened, and Maria + Consuelo observed the fact. She concluded, naturally enough, that the two men had + agreed to meet in her sitting-room, and she resented the punctuality which she + supposed they had displayed in coming almost together, especially after what had + happened on the preceding day. She noted the cordiality with which they greeted each + other and she felt sure that she was right. On the other hand she could not afford to + show the least coldness to Del Ferice, lest he should suppose that she was annoyed at + being disturbed in her conversation with Orsino. The situation was irritating to her, + but she made the best of it and began to talk to Del Ferice about the speech he had + made on the previous evening. He had spoken well, and she found it easy to be just + and flattering at the same time.</p> + <p>"It must be an immense satisfaction to speak as you do," said Orsino, wishing to + say something at least agreeable.</p> + <p>Del Ferice acknowledged the compliment by a deprecatory gesture.</p> + <p>"To speak as some of my colleagues can—yes—it must be a great + satisfaction. But Madame d'Aranjuez exaggerates. And, besides, I only make speeches + when I am called upon to do so. Speeches are wasted in nine cases out of ten, too. + They are, if I may say so, the music at the political ball. Sometimes the guests will + dance, and sometimes they will not, but the musicians must try and suit the taste of + the great invited. The dancing itself is the thing."</p> + <p>"Deeds not words," suggested Maria Consuelo, glancing at Orsino, who chanced to be + looking at her.</p> + <p>"That is a good motto enough," he said gloomily.</p> + <p>"Deeds may need explanation, <i>post facto</i>," remarked Del Ferice, + unconsciously making such a direct allusion to recent events that Orsino looked + sharply at him, and Maria Consuelo smiled.</p> + <p>"That is true," she said.</p> + <p>"And when you need any one to help you, it is necessary to explain your purpose + beforehand," observed Del Ferice. "That is what happens so often in politics, and in + other affairs of life as well. If a man takes money from me without my consent, he + steals, but if I agree to his taking it, the transaction becomes a gift or a loan. A + despotic government steals, a constitutional one borrows or receives free offerings. + The fact that the despot pays interest on a part of what he steals raises him to the + position of the magnanimous brigand who leaves his victims just enough money to carry + them to the nearest town. Possibly it is after all a quibble of definitions, and the + difference may not be so great as it seems at first sight. But then, all morality is + but the shadow cast on one side or the other of a definition."</p> + <p>"Surely that is not your political creed!" said Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"Certainly not, Madame, certainly not," answered Del Ferice in gentle protest. "It + is not a creed at all, but only a very poor explanation of the way in which most + experienced people look upon the events of their day. The idea in which we believe is + very different from the results it has brought about, and very much higher, and very + much better. But the results are not all bad either. Unfortunately the bad ones are + on the surface, and the good ones, which are enduring, must be sought in places where + the honest sunshine has not yet dispelled the early shadows."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo smiled faintly, and the slight cast in her eyes was more than + usually apparent, as though her attention were wandering. Orsino said nothing, and + wondered why Del Ferice continued to talk. The latter, indeed, was allowing himself + to run on because neither of his hearers seemed inclined to make a remark which might + serve to turn the conversation, and he began to suspect that something had occurred + before his coming which had disturbed their equanimity.</p> + <p>He presently began to talk of people instead of ideas, for he had no intention of + being thought a bore by Madame d'Aranjuez, and the man who is foolish enough to talk + of anything but his neighbours, when he has more than one hearer, is in danger of + being numbered with the tormentors.</p> + <p>Half an hour passed quickly enough after the common chord had been struck, and Del + Ferice and Orsino exchanged glances of intelligence, meaning to go away together as + had been agreed. Del Ferice rose first, and Orsino took up his hat. To his surprise + and consternation Maria Consuelo made a quick and imperative sign to him to remain. + Del Ferice's dull blue eyes saw most things that happened within the range of their + vision, and neither the gesture nor the look that accompanied it escaped him.</p> + <p>Orsino's position was extremely awkward. He had put Del Ferice to some + inconvenience on the understanding that they were to go away together and did not + wish to offend him by not keeping his engagement. On the other hand it was next to + impossible to disobey Maria Consuelo, and to explain his difficulty to Del Ferice was + wholly out of the question. He almost wished that the latter might have seen and + understood the signal. But Del Ferice made no sign and took Maria Consuelo's offered + hand, in the act of leavetaking. Orsino grew desperate and stood beside the two, + holding his hat. Del Ferice turned to shake hands with him also.</p> + <p>"But perhaps you are going too," he said, with a distinct interrogation.</p> + <p>Orsino glanced at Maria Consuelo as though imploring her permission to take his + leave, but her face was impenetrable, calm and indifferent.</p> + <p>Del Ferice understood perfectly what was taking place, but he found a moment while + Orsino hesitated. If the latter had known how completely he was in Del Ferice's power + throughout the little scene, he would have then and there thrown over his financial + schemes in favour of Maria Consuelo. But Del Ferice's quiet, friendly manner did not + suggest despotism, and he did not suffer Orsino's embarrassment to last more than + five seconds.</p> + <p>"I have a little proposition to make," said the fat count, turning again to Maria + Consuelo. "My wife and I are alone this evening. Will you not come and dine with us, + Madame? And you, Don Orsino, will you not come too? We shall just make a party of + four, if you will both come."</p> + <p>"I shall be enchanted!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo without hesitation.</p> + <p>"I shall be delighted!" answered Orsino with an alacrity which surprised + himself.</p> + <p>"At eight then," said Del Ferice, shaking hands with him again, and in a moment he + was gone.</p> + <p>Orsino was too much confused, and too much delighted at having escaped so easily + from his difficulty to realise the importance of the step he was taking in going to + Del Fence's house, or to ask himself why the latter had so opportunely extended the + invitation. He sat down in his place with a sigh of relief.</p> + <p>"You have compromised yourself for ever," said Maria Consuelo with a scornful + laugh. "You, the blackest of the Black, are to be numbered henceforth with the + acquaintances of Count Del Ferice and Donna Tullia."</p> + <p>"What difference does it make? Besides, I could not have done otherwise."</p> + <p>"You might have refused the dinner."</p> + <p>"I could not possibly have done that. To accept was the only way out of a great + difficulty."</p> + <p>"What difficulty?" asked Maria Consuelo relentlessly.</p> + <p>Orsino was silent, wondering how he could explain, as explain he must, without + offending her.</p> + <p>"You should not do such things," she said suddenly. "I will not always forgive + you."</p> + <p>A gleam of light which, indeed, promised little forgiveness, flashed in her + eyes.</p> + <p>"What things?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"Do not pretend that you think me so simple," she said, in a tone of irritation. + "You and Del Ferice come here almost at the same moment. When he goes, you show the + utmost anxiety to go too. Of course you have agreed to meet here. It is evident. You + might have chosen the steps of the hotel for your place of meeting instead of my + sitting-room."</p> + <p>The colour rose slowly in her cheeks. She was handsome when she was angry.</p> + <p>"If I had imagined that you could be displeased—"</p> + <p>"Is it so surprising? Have you forgotten what happened yesterday? You should be on + your knees, asking my forgiveness for that—and instead, you make a convenience + of your visit to-day in order to meet a man of business. You have very strange ideas + of what is due to a woman."</p> + <p>"Del Fence suggested it," said Orsino, "and I accepted the suggestion."</p> + <p>"What is Del Ferice to me, that I should be made the victim of his suggestions, as + you call them? Besides, he does not know anything of your folly of yesterday, and he + has no right to suspect it."</p> + <p>"I cannot tell you how sorry I am."</p> + <p>"And yet you ought to tell me, if you expect that I will forget all this. You + cannot? Then be so good as to do the only other sensible thing in your power, and + leave me as soon as possible."</p> + <p>"Forgive me, this once!" Orsino entreated in great distress, but not finding any + words to express his sense of humiliation.</p> + <p>"You are not eloquent," she said scornfully. "You had better go. Do not come to + the dinner this evening, either. I would rather not see you. You can easily make an + excuse."</p> + <p>Orsino recovered himself suddenly.</p> + <p>"I will not go away now, and I will not give up the dinner to-night," he said + quietly.</p> + <p>"I cannot make you do either—but I can leave you," said Maria Consuelo, with + a movement as though she were about to rise from her chair.</p> + <p>"You will not do that," Orsino answered.</p> + <p>She raised her eyebrows in real or affected surprise at his persistence.</p> + <p>"You seem very sure of yourself," she said. "Do not be so sure of me."</p> + <p>"I am sure that I love you. Nothing else matters." He leaned forward and took her + hand, so quickly that she had not time to prevent him. She tried to draw it away, but + he held it fast.</p> + <p>"Let me go!" she cried. "I will call, if you do not!"</p> + <p>"Call all Rome if you will, to see me ask your forgiveness. Consuelo—do not + be so hard and cruel—if you only knew how I love you, you would be sorry for + me, you would see how I hate myself, how I despise myself for all this—"</p> + <p>"You might show a little more feeling," she said, making a final effort to + disengage her hand, and then relinquishing the struggle.</p> + <p>Orsino wondered whether he were really in love with her or not. Somehow, the words + he sought did not rise to his lips, and he was conscious that his speech was not of + the same temperature, so to say, as his actions. There was something in Maria + Consuelo's manner which disturbed him disagreeably, like a cold draught blowing + unexpectedly through a warm room. Still he held her hand and endeavoured to rise to + the occasion.</p> + <p>"Consuelo!" he cried in a beseeching tone. "Do not send me away—see how I am + suffering—it is so easy for you to say that you forgive!"</p> + <p>She looked at him a moment, and her eyelids drooped suddenly.</p> + <p>"Will you let me go, if I forgive you?" she asked in a low voice.</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"I forgive you then. Well? Do you still hold my hand?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>He leaned forward and tried to draw her toward him, looking into her eyes. She + yielded a little, and their faces came a little nearer to each other, and still a + little nearer. All at once a deep blush rose in her cheeks, she turned her head away + and drew back quickly.</p> + <p>"Not for all the world!" she exclaimed, in a tone that was new to Orsino's + ear.</p> + <p>He tried to take her hand again, but she would not give it.</p> + <p>"No, no! Go—you are not to be trusted!" she cried, avoiding him.</p> + <p>"Why are you so unkind?" he asked, almost passionately.</p> + <p>"I have been kind enough for this day," she answered. "Pray go—do not stay + any longer—I may regret it."</p> + <p>"My staying?"</p> + <p>"No—my kindness. And do not come again for the present. I would rather see + you at Del Ferice's than here."</p> + <p>Orsino was quite unable to understand her behaviour, and an older and more + experienced man might have been almost as much puzzled as he. A long silence + followed, during which he sat quite still and she looked steadily at the cover of a + book which lay on the table.</p> + <p>"Please go," she said at last, in a voice which was not unkind.</p> + <p>Orsino rose from his seat and prepared to obey her, reluctantly enough and feeling + that he was out of tune with himself and with everything.</p> + <p>"Will you not even tell me why you send me away?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Because I wish to be alone," she answered. "Good-bye."</p> + <p>She did not look up as he left the room, and when he was gone she did not move + from her place, but sat as she had sat before, staring at the yellow cover of the + novel on the table.</p> + <p>Orsino went home in a very unsettled frame of mind, and was surprised to find that + the lighted streets looked less bright and cheerful than on the previous evening, and + his own immediate prospects far less pleasing. He was angry with himself for having + been so foolish as to make his visit to Maria Consuelo a mere appointment with Del + Ferice, and he was surprised beyond measure to find himself suddenly engaged in a + social acquaintance with the latter, when he had only meant to enter into relations + of business with him. Yet it did not occur to him that Del Ferice had in any way + entrapped him into accepting the invitation. Del Ferice had saved him from a very + awkward situation. Why? Because Del Ferice had seen the gesture Maria Consuelo had + made, and had understood it, and wished to give Orsino another opportunity of + discussing his project. But if Del Ferice had seen the quick sign, he had probably + interpreted it in a way compromising to Madame d'Aranjuez. This was serious, though + it was assuredly not Orsino's fault if she compromised herself. She might have let + him go without question, and since an explanation of some sort was necessary she + might have waited until the next day to demand it of him. He resented what she had + done, and yet within the last quarter of an hour, he had been making a declaration of + love to her. He was further conscious that the said declaration had been wholly + lacking in spirit, in passion and even in eloquence. He probably did not love her + after all, and with an attempt at his favourite indifference he tried to laugh at + himself.</p> + <p>But the effort was not successful, and he felt something approaching to pain as he + realised that there was nothing to laugh at. He remembered her eyes and her face and + the tones of her voice, and he imagined that if he could turn back now and see her + again, he could say in one breath such things as would move a statue to kisses. The + very phrases rose to his lips and he repeated them to himself as he walked along.</p> + <p>Most unaccountable of all had been Maria Consuelo's own behaviour. Her chief + preoccupation seemed to have been to get rid of him as soon as possible. She had been + very seriously offended with him to-day, much more deeply, indeed, than yesterday, + though, the cause appeared to his inexperience to be a far less adequate one. It was + evident, he thought, that she had not really pardoned his want of tact, but had + yielded to the necessity of giving a reluctant forgiveness, merely because she did + not wish to break off her acquaintance with him. On the other hand, she had allowed + him to say again and again that he loved her, and she had not forbidden him to call + her by her name.</p> + <p>He had always heard that it was hard to understand women, and he began to believe + it. There was one hypothesis which he had not considered. It was faintly possible + that she loved him already, though he was slow to believe that, his vanity lying in + another direction. But even if she did, matters were not clearer. The supposition + could not account for her sending him away so abruptly and with such evident + intention. If she loved him, she would naturally, he supposed, wish him to stay as + long as possible. She had only wished to keep him long enough to tell him how angry + she was. He resented that again, for he was in the humour to resent most things.</p> + <p>It was all extremely complicated, and Orsino began to think that he might find the + complication less interesting than he had expected a few hours earlier. He had little + time for reflection either, since he was to meet both Maria Consuelo and Del Ferice + at dinner. He felt as though the coming evening were in a measure to decide his + future existence, and it was indeed destined to exercise a great influence upon his + life, as any person not disturbed by the anxieties which beset him might easily have + foreseen.</p> + <p>Before leaving the house he made an excuse to his mother, saying that he had + unexpectedly been asked to dine with friends, and at the appointed hour he rang at + Del Ferice's door.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XII" name='CHAPTER_XII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino looked about him with some curiosity as he entered Del Fence's abode. He + had never expected to find himself the guest of Donna Tullia and her husband and when + he took the robust countess's hand he was inclined to wish that the whole affair + might turn out to be a dream. In vain he repeated to himself that he was no longer a + boy, but a grown man, of age in the eyes of the law to be responsible for his own + actions, and old enough in fact to take what steps he pleased for the accomplishment + of his own ends. He found no solace in the reflection, and he could not rid himself + of the idea that he had got himself into a very boyish scrape. It would indeed have + been very easy to refuse Del Ferice's invitation and to write him a note within the + hour explaining vaguely that circumstances beyond his control obliged him to ask + another interview for the discussion of business matters. But it was too late now. He + was exchanging indifferent remarks with Donna Tullia, while Del Ferice looked on + benignantly, and all three waited for Madame d'Aranjuez.</p> + <p>Five minutes had not elapsed before she came, and her appearance momentarily + dispelled Orsino's annoyance at his own rashness. He had never before seen her + dressed for the evening, and he had not realised how much to her advantage the change + from the ordinary costume, or the inevitable "tea-garment," to a dinner gown would + be. She was assuredly not over-dressed, for she wore black without colours and her + only ornament was a single string of beautiful pearls which Donna Tullia believed to + be false, but which Orsino accepted as real. Possibly he knew even more about pearls + than the countess, for his mother had many and wore them often, whereas Donna Tullia + preferred diamonds and rubies. But his eyes did not linger on the necklace, for Maria + Consuelo's whole presence affected him strangely. There was something light-giving + and even dazzling about her which he had not expected, and he understood for the + first time that the language of the newspaper paragraphs was not so grossly + flattering as he had supposed. In spite of the great artistic defects of feature, + which could not long escape an observer of ordinary taste, it was clear that Maria + Consuelo must always be a striking and central figure in any social assembly, great + or small. There had been moments in Orsino's acquaintance with her, when he had + thought her really beautiful; as she now appeared, one of those moments seemed to + have become permanent. He thought of what he had dared on the preceding day, his + vanity was pleased and his equanimity restored. With a sense of pride which was very + far from being delicate and was by no means well founded, he watched her as she + walked in to dinner before him, leaning on Del Ferice's arm.</p> + <p>"Beautiful—eh? I see you think so," whispered Donna Tullia in his ear.</p> + <p>The countess treated him at once as an old acquaintance, which put him at his + ease, while it annoyed his conscience.</p> + <p>"Very beautiful," he answered, with a grave nod.</p> + <p>"And so mysterious," whispered the countess again, just as they reached the door + of the dining-room. "She is very fascinating—take care!"</p> + <p>She tapped his arm familiarly with her fan and laughed, as he left her at her + seat.</p> + <p>"What are you two laughing at?" asked Del Ferice, smiling pleasantly as he + surveyed the six oysters he found upon his plate, and considered which should be left + until the last as the crowning tit-bit. He was fond of good eating, and especially + fond of oysters as an introduction to the feast.</p> + <p>"What we were laughing at? How indiscreet you are, Ugo! You always want to find + out all my little secrets. Consuelo, my dear, do you like oysters, or do you not? + That is the question. You do, I know—a little lemon and a very little red + pepper—I love red, even to adoring cayenne!"</p> + <p>Orsino glanced at Madame d'Aranjuez, for he was surprised to hear Donna Tullia + call her by her first name. He had not known that the two women had reached the first + halting place of intimacy.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo smiled rather vaguely as she took the advice in the shape of lemon + juice and pepper. Del Ferice could not interrupt his enjoyment of the oysters by + words, and Orsino waited for an opportunity of saying something witty.</p> + <p>"I have lately formed the highest opinion of the ancient Romans," said Donna + Tullia, addressing him. "Do you know why?"</p> + <p>Orsino professed his ignorance.</p> + <p>"Ugo tells me that in a recent excavation twenty cartloads of oyster shells were + discovered behind one house. Think of that! Twenty cartloads to a single house! What + a family must have lived there—indeed the Romans were a great people!"</p> + <p>Orsino thought that Donna Tullia herself might pass for a heroine in future ages, + provided that the shells of her victims were deposited together in a safe place. He + laughed politely and hoped that the conversation might not turn upon archaeology, + which was not his strong point.</p> + <p>"I wonder how long it will be before modern Rome is excavated and the foreigner of + the future pays a franc to visit the ruins of the modern house of parliament," + suggested Maria Consuelo, who had said nothing as yet.</p> + <p>"At the present rate of progress, I should think about two years would be enough," + answered Donna Tullia. "But Ugo says we are a great nation. Ask him."</p> + <p>"Ah, my angel, you do not understand those things," said Del Ferice. "How shall I + explain? There is no development without decay of the useless parts. The snake casts + its old skin before it appears with a new one. And there can be no business without + an occasional crisis. Unbroken fair weather ends in a dead calm. Why do you take such + a gloomy view, Madame?"</p> + <p>"One should never talk of things—only people are amusing," said Donna + Tullia, before Madame d'Aranjuez could answer. "Whom have you seen to-day, Consuelo? + And you, Don Orsino? And you, Ugo? Are we to talk for ever of oysters, and business + and snakes? Come, tell me, all of you, what everybody has told you. There must be + something new. Of course that poor Carantoni is going to be married again, and the + Princess Befana is dying, as usual, and the same dear old people have run away with + each other, and all that. Of course. I wish things were not always just going to + happen. One would like to hear what is said on the day after the events which never + come off. It would be a novelty."</p> + <p>Donna Tullia loved talk and noise, and gossip above all things, and she was not + quite at her ease. The news that Orsino was to come to dinner had taken her breath + away. Ugo had advised her to be natural, and she was doing her best to follow his + advice.</p> + <p>"As for me," he said, "I have been tormented all day, and have spent but one + pleasant half hour. I was so fortunate as to find Madame d'Aranjuez at home, but that + was enough to indemnify me for many sacrifices."</p> + <p>"I cannot do better than say the same," observed Orsino, though with far less + truth. "I believe I have read through a new novel, but I do not remember the title + and I have forgotten the story."</p> + <p>"How satisfactory!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo, with a little scorn.</p> + <p>"It is the only way to read novels," answered Orsino, "for it leaves them always + new to you, and the same one may be made to last several weeks."</p> + <p>"I have heard it said that one should fear the man of one book," observed Maria + Consuelo, looking at him.</p> + <p>"For my part, I am more inclined to fear the woman of many."</p> + <p>"Do you read much, my dear Consuelo?" asked Donna Tullia, laughing.</p> + <p>"Perpetually."</p> + <p>"And is Don Orsino afraid of you?"</p> + <p>"Mortally," answered Orsino. "Madame d'Aranjuez knows everything."</p> + <p>"Is she blue, then?" asked Donna Tullia.</p> + <p>"What shall I say, Madame?" inquired Orsino, turning to Maria Consuelo. "Is it a + compliment to compare you to the sky of Italy?"</p> + <p>"For blueness?"</p> + <p>"No—for brightness and serenity."</p> + <p>"Thanks. That is pretty. I accept."</p> + <p>"And have you nothing for me?" asked Donna Tullia, with an engaging smile.</p> + <p>The other two looked at Orsino, wondering what he would say in answer to such a + point-blank demand for flattery.</p> + <p>"Juno is still Minerva's ally," he said, falling back upon mythology, though it + struck him that Del Ferice would make a poor Jupiter, with his fat white face and + dull eyes.</p> + <p>"Very good!" laughed Donna Tullia. "A little classic, but I pressed you hard. You + are not easily caught. Talking of clever men," she added with another meaning glance + at Orsino, "I met your friend to-day, Consuelo."</p> + <p>"My friend? Who is he?"</p> + <p>"Spicca, of course. Whom did you think I meant? We always laugh at her," she said, + turning to Orsino, "because she hates him so. She does not know him, and has never + spoken to him. It is his cadaverous face that frightens her. One can understand + that—we of old Rome, have been used to him since the deluge. But a stranger is + horrified at the first sight of him. Consuelo positively dreads to meet him in the + street. She says that he makes her dream of all sorts of horrors."</p> + <p>"It is quite true," said Maria Consuelo, with a slight movement of her beautiful + shoulders. "There are people one would rather not see, merely because they are not + good to look at. He is one of them and if I see him coming I turn away."</p> + <p>"I know, I told him so to-day," continued Donna Tullia cheerfully. "We are old + friends, but we do not often meet nowadays. Just fancy! It was in that little + antiquary's shop in the Monte Brianzo—the first on the left as you go, he has + good things—and I saw a bit of embroidery in the window that took my fancy, so + I stopped the carriage and went in. Who should be there but Spicca, hat and all, + looking like old Father Time. He was bargaining for something—a wretched old + bit of brass—bargaining, my dear! For a few sous! One may be poor, but one has + no right to be mean—I thought he would have got the miserable antiquary's + skin."</p> + <p>"Antiquaries can generally take care of themselves," observed Orsino + incredulously.</p> + <p>"Oh, I daresay—but it looks so badly, you know. That is all I mean. When he + saw me he stopped wrangling and we talked a little, while I had the embroidery + wrapped up. I will show it to you after dinner. It is sixteenth century, Ugo + says—a piece of a chasuble—exquisite flowers on claret-coloured satin, a + perfect gem, so rare now that everything is imitated. However, that is not the point. + It was Spicca. I was forgetting my story. He said the usual things, you + know—that he had heard that I was very gay this year, but that it seemed to + agree with me, and so on. And I asked him why he never came to see me, and as an + inducement I told him of our great beauty here—that is you, Consuelo, so please + look delighted instead of frowning—and I told him that she ought to hear him + talk, because his face had frightened her so that she ran away when she saw him + coming towards her in the street. You see, if one flatters his cleverness he does not + mind being called ugly—or at least I thought not, until to-day. But to my + consternation he seemed angry, and he asked me almost savagely if it were true that + the Countess d'Aranjuez—that is what he called you, my dear—really tried + to avoid him in the street. Then I laughed and said I was only joking, and he began + to bargain again for the little brass frame and I went away. When I last heard his + voice he was insisting upon seventy-five centimes, and the antiquary was jeering at + him and asking a franc and a half. I wonder which got the better of the fight in the + end. I will ask him the next time I see him."</p> + <p>Del Ferice supported his wife with a laugh at her story, but it was not very + genuine. He had unpleasant recollections of Spicca in earlier days, and his name + recalled events which Ugo would willingly have forgotten. Orsino smiled politely, but + resented the way in which Donna Tullia spoke of his father's old friend. As for Maria + Consuelo, she was a little pale, and looked tired. But the countess was + irrepressible, for she feared lest Orsino should go away and think her dull.</p> + <p>"Of course we all really like Spicca," she said. "Every one does."</p> + <p>"I do, for my part," said Orsino gravely. "I have a great respect for him, for his + own sake, and he is one of my father's oldest friends."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo looked at him very suddenly, as though she were surprised by what + he said. She did not remember to have heard him mention the melancholy old duellist. + She seemed about to say something, but changed her mind.</p> + <p>"Yes," said Ugo, turning the subject, "he is one of the old tribe that is dying + out. What types there were in those days, and how those who are alive have changed! + Do you remember, Tullia? But of course you cannot, my angel, it was far before your + time."</p> + <p>One of Ugo's favourite methods of pleasing his wife was to assert that she was too + young to remember people who had indeed played a part as lately as after the death of + her first husband. It always soothed her.</p> + <p>"I remember them all," he continued. "Old Montevarchi, and Frangipani, and poor + Casalverde—and a score of others."</p> + <p>He had been on the point of mentioning old Astrardente, too, but checked + himself.</p> + <p>"Then there were the young ones, who are in middle age now," he went on, "such as + Valdarno and the Montevarchi whom you know, as different from their former selves as + you can well imagine. Society was different too."</p> + <p>Del Ferice spoke thoughtfully and slowly, as though wishing that some one would + interrupt him or take up the subject, for he felt that his wife's long story about + Spicca and the antiquary had not been a success, and his instinct told him that + Spicca had better not be mentioned again, since he was a friend of Orsino's and since + his name seemed to exert a depressing influence on Maria Consuelo. Orsino came to the + rescue and began to talk of current social topics in a way which showed that he was + not so profoundly prejudiced by traditional ideas as Del Ferice had expected. The + momentary chill wore off quickly enough, and when the dinner ended Donna Tullia was + sure that it had been a success. They all returned to the drawing-room and then Del + Ferice, without any remark, led Orsino away to smoke with him in a distant + apartment.</p> + <p>"We can smoke again, when we go back," he said. "My wife does not mind and Madame + d'Aranjuez likes it. But it is an excuse to be alone together for a little while, and + besides, my doctor makes me lie down for a quarter of an hour after dinner. You will + excuse me?"</p> + <p>Del Ferice extended himself upon a leathern lounge, and Orsino sat down in a deep + easy-chair.</p> + <p>"I was so sorry not to be able to come away with you to-day," said Orsino. "The + truth is, Madame d'Aranjuez wanted some information and I was just going to explain + that I would stay a little longer, when you asked us both to dinner. You must have + thought me very forgetful."</p> + <p>"Not at all, not at all," answered Del Ferice. "Indeed, I quite supposed that you + were coming with me, when it struck me that this would be a much more pleasant place + for talking. I cannot imagine why I had not thought of it before—but I have so + many details to think of."</p> + <p>Not much could be said for the veracity of either of the statements which the two + men were pleased to make to each other, but Orsino had the small advantage of being + nearer to the letter, if not to the spirit of the truth. Each, however, was satisfied + with the other's tact.</p> + <p>"And so, Don Orsino," continued Del Ferice after a short pause, "you wish to try a + little operation in business. Yes. Very good. You have, as we said yesterday, a sum + of money ample for a beginning. You have the necessary courage and intelligence. You + need a practical assistant, however, and it is indispensable that the point selected + for the first venture should be one promising speedy profit. Is that it?"</p> + <p>"Precisely."</p> + <p>"Very good, very good. I think I can offer you both the land and the partner, and + almost guarantee your success, if you will be guided by me."</p> + <p>"I have come to you for advice," said Orsino. "I will follow it gratefully. As for + the success of the undertaking, I will assume the responsibility."</p> + <p>"Yes. That is better. After all, everything is uncertain in such matters, and you + would not like to feel that you were under an obligation to me. On the other hand, as + I told you, I am selfish and cautious. I would rather not appear in the + transaction."</p> + <p>If any doubt as to Del Ferice's honesty of purpose crossed Orsino's mind at that + moment, it was fully compensated by the fact that he himself distinctly preferred not + to be openly associated with the banker.</p> + <p>"I quite agree with you," he said.</p> + <p>"Very well. Now for business. Do you know that it is sometimes more profitable to + take over a half-finished building, than to begin a new one? Often, I assure you, for + the returns are quicker and you get a great deal at half price. Now, the man whom I + recommend to you is a practical architect, and was employed by a certain baker to + build a tenement building in one of the new quarters. The baker dies, the house is + unfinished, the heirs wish to sell it as it is—there are at least a dozen of + them—and meanwhile the work is stopped. My advice is this. Buy this house, go + into partnership with the unemployed architect, agreeing to give him a share of the + profits, finish the building and sell it as soon as it is habitable. In six months + you will get a handsome return."</p> + <p>"That sounds very tempting," answered Orsino, "but it would need more capital than + I have."</p> + <p>"Not at all, not at all. It is a mere question of taking over a mortgage and + paying stamp duty."</p> + <p>"And how about the difference in ready money, which ought to go to the present + owners?"</p> + <p>"I see that you are already beginning to understand the principles of business," + said Del Ferice, with an encouraging smile. "But in this case the owners are glad to + get rid of the house on any terms by which they lose nothing, for they are in mortal + fear of being ruined by it, as they probably will be if they hold on to it."</p> + <p>"Then why should I not lose, if I take it?"</p> + <p>"That is just the difference. The heirs are a number of incapable persons of the + lower class, who do not understand these matters. If they attempted to go on they + would soon find themselves entangled in the greatest difficulties. They would sink + where you will almost certainly swim."</p> + <p>Orsino was silent for a moment. There was something despicable, to his thinking, + in profiting by the loss of a wretched baker's heirs.</p> + <p>"It seems to me," he said presently, "that if I succeed in this, I ought to give a + share of the profits to the present owners."</p> + <p>Not a muscle of Del Ferice's face moved, but his dull eyes looked curiously at + Orsino's young face.</p> + <p>"That sort of thing is not commonly done in business," he said quietly, after a + short pause. "As a rule, men who busy themselves with affairs do so in the hope of + growing rich, but I can quite understand that where business is a mere pastime, as it + is to be in your case, a man of generous instincts may devote the proceeds to + charity."</p> + <p>"It looks more like justice than charity to me," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"Call it what you will, but succeed first and consider the uses of your success + afterwards. That is not my affair. The baker's heirs are not especially deserving + people, I believe. In fact they are said to have hastened his death in the hope of + inheriting his wealth and are disappointed to find that they have got nothing. If you + wish to be philanthropic you might wait until you have cleared a large sum and then + give it to a school or a hospital."</p> + <p>"That is true," said Orsino. "In the meantime it is important to begin."</p> + <p>"We can begin to-morrow, if you please. You will find me at the bank at mid-day. I + will send for the architect and the notary and we can manage everything in + forty-eight hours. Before the week is out you can be at work."</p> + <p>"So soon as that?"</p> + <p>"Certainly. Sooner, by hurrying matters a little."</p> + <p>"As soon as possible then. And I will go to the bank at twelve o'clock to-morrow. + A thousand thanks for all your good offices, my dear count."</p> + <p>"It is a pleasure, I assure you."</p> + <p>Orsino was so much pleased with Del Ferice's quick and business-like way of + arranging matters that he began to look upon him as a model to imitate, so far as + executive ability was concerned. It was odd enough that any one of his name should + feel anything like admiration for Ugo, but friendship and hatred are only the + opposite points at which the social pendulum pauses before it swings backward, and + they who live long may see many oscillations.</p> + <p>The two men went back to the drawing-room where Donna Tullia and Maria Consuelo + were discussing the complicated views of the almighty dressmaker. Orsino knew that + there was little chance of his speaking a word alone with Madame d'Aranjuez and + resigned himself to the effort of helping the general conversation. Fortunately the + time to be got over in this way was not long, as all four had engagements in the + evening. Maria Consuelo rose at half-past ten, but Orsino determined to wait five + minutes longer, or at least to make a show of meaning to do so. But Donna Tullia put + out her hand as though she expected him to take his leave at the same time. She was + going to a ball and wanted at least an hour in which to screw her magnificence up to + the dancing pitch.</p> + <p>The consequence was that Orsino found himself helping Maria Consuelo into the + modest hired conveyance which awaited her at the gate. He hoped that she would offer + him a seat for a short distance, but he was disappointed.</p> + <p>"May I come to-morrow?" he asked, as he closed the door of the carriage. The night + was not cold and the window was down.</p> + <p>"Please tell the coachman to take me to the Via Nazionale," she said quickly.</p> + <p>"What number?"</p> + <p>"Never mind—he knows—I have forgotten. Good-night."</p> + <p>She tried to draw up the window, but Orsino held his hand on it.</p> + <p>"May I come to-morrow?" he asked again.</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>"Are you angry with me still?"</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>"Then why—"</p> + <p>"Let me shut the window. Take your hand away."</p> + <p>Her voice was very imperative in the dark. Orsino relinquished his hold on the + frame, and the pane ran up suddenly into its place with a rattling noise. There was + obviously nothing more to be said.</p> + <p>"Via Nazionale. The Signora says you know the house," he called to the driver.</p> + <p>The man looked surprised, shrugged his shoulders after the manner of livery stable + coachmen and drove slowly off in the direction indicated. Orsino stood looking after + the carriage and a few seconds later he saw that the man drew rein and bent down to + the front window as though asking for orders. Orsino thought he heard Maria + Consuelo's voice, answering the question, but he could not distinguish what she said, + and the brougham drove on at once without taking a new direction.</p> + <p>He was curious to know whither she was going, and the idea of following her + suggested itself but he instantly dismissed it, partly because it seemed unworthy and + partly, perhaps, because he was on foot, and no cab was passing within hail.</p> + <p>Orsino was very much puzzled. During the dinner she had behaved with her usual + cordiality but as soon as they were alone she spoke and acted as she had done in the + afternoon. Orsino turned away and walked across the deserted square. He was greatly + disturbed, for he felt a sense of humiliation and disappointment quite new to him. + Young as he was, he had been accustomed already to a degree of consideration very + different from that which Maria Consuelo thought fit to bestow, and it was certainly + the first time in his life that a door—even the door of a carriage—had + been shut in his face without ceremony. What would have been an unpardonable insult, + coming from a man, was at least an indignity when it came from a woman. As Orsino + walked along, his wrath rose, and he wondered why he had not been angry at once.</p> + <p>"Very well," he said to himself. "She says she does not want me. I will take her + at her word and I will not go to see her any more. We shall see what happens. She + will find out that I am not a child, as she was good enough to call me to-day, and + that I am not in the habit of having windows put up in my face. I have much more + serious business on hand than making love to Madame d'Aranjuez."</p> + <p>The more he reflected upon the situation, the more angry he grew, and when he + reached the door of the club he was in a humour to quarrel with everything and + everybody. Fortunately, at that early hour, the place was in the sole possession of + half a dozen old gentlemen whose conversation diverted his thoughts though it was the + very reverse of edifying. Between the stories they told and the considerable number + of cigarettes he smoked while listening to them he was almost restored to his normal + frame of mind by midnight, when four or five of his usual companions straggled in and + proposed baccarat. After his recent successes he could not well refuse to play, so he + sat down rather reluctantly with the rest. Oddly enough he did not lose, though he + won but little.</p> + <p>"Lucky at play, unlucky in love," laughed one of the men carelessly.</p> + <p>"What do you mean?" asked Orsino, turning sharply upon the speaker.</p> + <p>"Mean? Nothing," answered the latter in great surprise. "What is the matter with + you, Orsino? Cannot one quote a common proverb?"</p> + <p>"Oh—if you meant nothing, let us go on," Orsino answered gloomily.</p> + <p>As he took up the cards again, he heard a sigh behind him and turning round saw + that Spicca was standing at his shoulder. He was shocked by the melancholy count's + face, though he was used to meeting him almost every day. The haggard and cadaverous + features, the sunken and careworn eyes, contrasted almost horribly with the freshness + and gaiety of Orsino's companions, and the brilliant light in the room threw the + man's deadly pallor into strong relief.</p> + <p>"Will you play, Count?" asked Orsino, making room for him.</p> + <p>"Thanks—no. I never play nowadays," answered Spicca quietly.</p> + <p>He turned and left the room. With all his apparent weakness his step was not + unsteady, though it was slower than in the old days.</p> + <p>"He sighed in that way because we did not quarrel," said the man whose quoted + proverb had annoyed Orsino.</p> + <p>"I am ready and anxious to quarrel with everybody to-night," answered Orsino. "Let + us play baccarat—that is much better."</p> + <p>Spicca left the club alone and walked slowly homewards to his small lodging in the + Via della Croce. A few dying embers smouldered in the little fireplace which warmed + his sitting-room. He stirred them slowly, took a stick of wood from the wicker + basket, hesitated a moment, and then put it back again instead of burning it. The + night was not cold and wood was very dear. He sat down under the light of the old + lamp which stood upon the mantelpiece, and drew a long breath. But presently, putting + his hand into the pocket of his overcoat in search of his cigarette case, he drew out + something else which he had almost forgotten, a small something wrapped in coarse + paper. He undid it and looked at the little frame of chiselled brass which Donna + Tullia had found him buying in the afternoon, turning it over and over, absently, as + though thinking of something else.</p> + <p>Then he fumbled in his pockets again and found a photograph which he had also + bought in the course of the day—the photograph of Gouache's latest portrait, + obtained in a contraband fashion and with some difficulty from the photographer.</p> + <p>Without hesitation Spicca took a pocket-knife and began to cut the head out, with + that extraordinary neatness and precision which characterised him when he used any + sharp instrument. The head just fitted the frame. He fastened it in with drops of + sealing-wax and carefully burned the rest of the picture in the embers.</p> + <p>The face of Maria Consuelo smiled at him in the lamplight, as he turned it in + different ways so as to find the best aspect of it. Then he hung it on a nail above + the mantelpiece just under a pair of crossed foils.</p> + <p>"That man Gouache is a very clever fellow," he said aloud. "Between them, he and + nature have made a good likeness."</p> + <p>He sat down again and it was a long time before he made up his mind to take away + the lamp and go to bed.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XIII" name='CHAPTER_XIII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Del Ferice kept his word and arranged matters for Orsino with a speed and skill + which excited the latter's admiration. The affair was not indeed very complicated + though it involved a deed of sale, the transfer of a mortgage and a deed of + partnership between Orsino Saracinesca and Andrea Contini, architect, under the style + "Andrea Contini and Company," besides a contract between this firm of the one party + and the bank in which Del Ferice was a director, of the other, the partners agreeing + to continue the building of the half-finished house, and the bank binding itself to + advance small sums up to a certain amount for current expenses of material and + workmen's wages. Orsino signed everything required of him after reading the + documents, and Andrea Contini followed his example.</p> + <p>The architect was a tall man with bright brown eyes, a dark and somewhat ragged + beard, close cropped hair, a prominent, bony forehead and large, coarsely shaped, + thin ears oddly set upon his head. He habitually wore a dark overcoat, of which the + collar was generally turned up on one side and not on the other. Judging from the + appearance of his strong shoes he had always been walking a long distance over bad + roads, and when it had rained within the week his trousers were generally bespattered + with mud to a considerable height above the heel. He habitually carried an + extinguished cigar between his teeth of which he chewed the thin black end uneasily. + Orsino fancied that he might be about eight and twenty years old, and was not + altogether displeased with his appearance. He was not at all like the majority of his + kind, who, in Rome at least, usually affect a scrupulous dandyism of attire and an + uncommon refinement of manner. Whatever Contini's faults might prove to be, Orsino + did not believe that they would turn out to be those of idleness or vanity. How far + he was right in his judgment will appear before long, but he conceived his partner to + be gifted, frank, enthusiastic and careless of outward forms.</p> + <p>As for the architect himself, he surveyed Orsino with a sort of sympathetic + curiosity which the latter would have thought unpleasantly familiar if he had + understood it. Contini had never spoken before with any more exalted personage than + Del Ferice, and he studied the young aristocrat as though he were a being from + another world. He hesitated some time as to the proper mode of addressing him and at + last decided to call him "Signor Principe." Orsino seemed quite satisfied with this, + and the architect was inwardly pleased when the young man said "Signor Contini" + instead of Contini alone. It was quite clear that Del Ferice had already acquainted + him with all the details of the situation, for he seemed to understand all the + documents at a glance, picking out and examining the important clauses with unfailing + acuteness, and pointing with his finger to the place where Orsino was to sign his + name.</p> + <p>At the end of the interview Orsino shook hands with Del Ferice and thanked him + warmly for his kindness, after which, he and his partner went out together. They + stood side by side upon the pavement for a few seconds, each wondering what the other + was going to say.</p> + <p>"Perhaps we had better go and look at the house, Signor Principe," observed + Contini, in the midst of an ineffectual effort to light the stump of his cigar.</p> + <p>"I think so, too," answered Orsino, realising that since he had acquired the + property it would be as well to know how it looked. "You see I have trusted my + adviser entirely in the matter, and I am ashamed to say I do not know where the house + is."</p> + <p>Andrea Contini looked at him curiously.</p> + <p>"This is the first time that you have had anything to do with business of this + kind, Signor Principe," he observed. "You have fallen into good hands."</p> + <p>"Yours?" inquired Orsino, a little stiffly.</p> + <p>"No. I mean that Count Del Ferice is a good adviser in this matter."</p> + <p>"I hope so."</p> + <p>"I am sure of it," said Contini with conviction. "It would be a great surprise to + me if we failed to make a handsome profit by this contract."</p> + <p>"There is luck and ill-luck in everything," answered Orsino, signalling to a + passing cab.</p> + <p>The two men exchanged few words as they drove up to the new quarter in the + direction indicated to the driver by Contini. The cab entered a sort of broad lane, + the sketch of a future street, rough with the unrolled metalling of broken stones, + the space set apart for the pavement being an uneven path of trodden brown earth. + Here and there tall detached houses rose out of the wilderness, mostly covered by + scaffoldings and swarming with workmen, but hideous where so far finished as to be + visible in all the isolation of their six-storied nakedness. A strong smell of lime, + wet earth and damp masonry was blown into Orsino's nostrils by the scirocco wind. + Contini stopped the cab before an unpromising and deserted erection of poles, boards + and tattered matting.</p> + <p>"This is our house," he said, getting out and immediately making another attempt + to light his cigar.</p> + <p>"May I offer you a cigarette?" asked Orsino, holding out his case.</p> + <p>Contini touched his hat, bowed a little awkwardly and took one of the cigarettes, + which he immediately transferred to his coat pocket.</p> + <p>"If you will allow me I will smoke it by and by," he said. "I have not finished my + cigar."</p> + <p>Orsino stood on the slippery ground beside the stones and contemplated his + purchase. All at once his heart sank and he felt a profound disgust for everything + within the range of his vision. He was suddenly aware of his own total and hopeless + ignorance of everything connected with building, theoretical or practical. The sight + of the stiff, angular scaffoldings, draped with torn straw mattings that flapped + fantastically in the south-east wind, the apparent absence of anything like a real + house behind them, the blades of grass sprouting abundantly about the foot of each + pole and covering the heaps of brown pozzolana earth prepared for making mortar, even + the detail of a broken wooden hod before the boarded entrance—all these things + contributed at once to increase his dismay and to fill him with a bitter sense of + inevitable failure. He found nothing to say, as he stood with his hands in his + pockets staring at the general desolation, but he understood for the first time why + women cry for disappointment. And moreover, this desolation was his own peculiar + property, by deed of purchase, and he could not get rid of it.</p> + <p>Meanwhile Andrea Contini stood beside him, examining the scaffoldings with his + bright brown eyes, in no way disconcerted by the prospect.</p> + <p>"Shall we go in?" he asked at last.</p> + <p>"Do unfinished houses always look like this?" inquired Orsino, in a hopeless tone, + without noticing his companion's proposition.</p> + <p>"Not always," answered Contini cheerfully. "It depends upon the amount of work + that has been done, and upon other things. Sometimes the foundations sink and the + buildings collapse."</p> + <p>"Are you sure nothing of the kind has happened here?" asked Orsino with increasing + anxiety.</p> + <p>"I have been several times to look at it since the baker died and I have not + noticed any cracks yet," answered the architect, whose coolness seemed almost + exasperating.</p> + <p>"I suppose you understand these things, Signor Contini?"</p> + <p>Contini laughed, and felt in his pockets for a crumpled paper box of + wax-lights.</p> + <p>"It is my profession," he answered. "And then, I built this house from the + foundations. If you will come in, Signor Principe, I will show you how solidly the + work is done."</p> + <p>He took a key from his pocket and thrust it into a hole in the boarding, which + latter proved to be a rough door and opened noisily upon rusty hinges. Orsino + followed him in silence. To the young man's inexperienced eye the interior of the + building was even more depressing than the outside. It smelt like a vault, and a dim + grey light entered the square apertures from the curtained scaffoldings without, just + sufficient to help one to find a way through the heaps of rubbish that covered the + unpaved floors. Contini explained rapidly and concisely the arrangement of the rooms, + calling one cave familiarly a dining-room and another a "conjugal bedroom," as he + expressed it, and expatiating upon the facilities of communication which he himself + had carefully planned. Orsino listened in silence and followed his guide patiently + from place to place, in and out of dark passages and up flights of stairs as yet + unguarded by any rail, until they emerged upon a sort of flat terrace intersected by + low walls, which was indeed another floor and above which another story and a garret + were yet to be built to complete the house. Orsino looked gloomily about him, lighted + a cigarette and sat down upon a bit of masonry.</p> + <p>"To me, it looks very like failure," he remarked. "But I suppose there is + something in it."</p> + <p>"It will not look like failure next month," said Contini carelessly. "Another + story is soon built, and then the attic, and then, if you like, a Gothic roof and a + turret at one corner. That always attracts buyers first and respectable lodgers + afterwards."</p> + <p>"Let us have a turret, by all means," answered Orsino, as though his tailor had + proposed to put an extra button on the cuff of his coat. "But how in the world are + you going to begin? Everything looks to me as though it were falling to pieces."</p> + <p>"Leave all that to me, Signor Principe. We will begin to-morrow. I have a good + overseer and there are plenty of workmen to be had. We have material for a week at + least, and paid for, excepting a few cartloads of lime. Come again in ten days and + you will see something worth looking at."</p> + <p>"In ten days? And what am I to do in the meantime?" asked Orsino, who fancied that + he had found an occupation.</p> + <p>Andrea Contini looked at him in some surprise, not understanding in the least what + he meant.</p> + <p>"I mean, am I to have nothing to do with the work?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"Oh—as far as that goes, you will come every day, Signor Principe, if it + amuses you, though as you are not a practical architect, your assistance is not + needed until questions of taste have to be considered, such as the Gothic roof for + instance. But there are the accounts to be kept, of course, and there is the business + with the bank from week to week, office work of various kinds. That becomes naturally + your department, as the practical superintendence of the building is mine, but you + will of course leave it to the steward of the Signor Principe di Sant' Ilario, who is + a man of affairs."</p> + <p>"I will do nothing of the kind!" exclaimed Orsino. "I will do it myself. I will + learn how it is done. I want occupation."</p> + <p>"What an extraordinary wish!" Andrea Contini opened his eyes in real + astonishment.</p> + <p>"Is it? You work. Why should not I?"</p> + <p>"I must, and you need not, Signor Principe," observed the architect. "But if you + insist, then you had better get a clerk to explain the details to you at first."</p> + <p>"Do you not understand them? Can you not teach me?" asked Orsino, displeased with + the idea of employing a third person.</p> + <p>"Oh yes—I have been a clerk myself. I should be too much honoured + but—the fact is, my spare time—"</p> + <p>He hesitated and seemed reluctant to explain.</p> + <p>"What do you do with your spare time?" asked Orsino, suspecting some love + affair.</p> + <p>"The fact is—I play a second violin at one of the theatres—and I give + lessons on the mandolin, and sometimes I do copying work for my uncle who is a clerk + in the Treasury. You see, he is old, and his eyes are not as good as they were."</p> + <p>Orsino began to think that his partner was a very odd person. He could not help + smiling at the enumeration of his architect's secondary occupations.</p> + <p>"You are very fond of music, then?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Eh—yes—as one can be, without talent—a little by necessity. To + be an architect one must have houses to build. You see the baker died unexpectedly. + One must live somehow."</p> + <p>"And could you not—how shall I say? Would you not be willing to give me + lessons in book-keeping instead of teaching some one else to play the mandolin?"</p> + <p>"You would not care to learn the mandolin yourself, Signor Principe? It is a very + pretty instrument, especially for country parties, as well as for serenading."</p> + <p>Orsino laughed. He did not see himself in the character of a mandolinist.</p> + <p>"I have not the slightest ear for music," he answered. "I would much rather learn + something about business."</p> + <p>"It is less amusing," said Andrea Contini regretfully.</p> + <p>"But I am at your service. I will come to the office when work is over and we will + do the accounts together. You will learn in that way very quickly."</p> + <p>"Thank you. I suppose we must have an office. It is necessary, is it not?"</p> + <p>"Indispensable—a room, a garret—anything. A habitation, a legal + domicile, so to say."</p> + <p>"Where do you live, Signor Contini? Would not your lodging do?"</p> + <p>"I am afraid not, Signor Principe. At least not for the present. I am not very + well lodged and the stairs are badly lighted."</p> + <p>"Why not here, then?" asked Orsino, suddenly growing desperately practical, for he + felt unaccountably reluctant to hire an office in the city.</p> + <p>"We should pay no rent," said Contini. "It is an idea. But the walls are dry + downstairs, and we only need a pavement, and plastering, and doors and windows, and + papering and some furniture to make one of the rooms quite habitable. It is an idea, + undoubtedly. Besides, it would give the house an air of being inhabited, which is + valuable."</p> + <p>"How long will all that take? A month or two?"</p> + <p>"About a week. It will be a little fresh, but if you are not rheumatic, Signor + Principe, we can try it."</p> + <p>"I am not rheumatic," laughed Orsino, who was pleased with the idea of having his + office on the spot, and apparently in the midst of a wilderness. "And I suppose you + really do understand architecture, Signor Contini, though you do play the + fiddle."</p> + <p>In this exceedingly sketchy way was the firm of Andrea Contini and Company + established and lodged, being at the time in a very shadowy state, theoretically and + practically, though it was destined to play a more prominent part in affairs than + either of the young partners anticipated. Orsino discovered before long that his + partner was a man of skill and energy, and his spirits rose by degrees as the work + began to advance. Contini was restless, untiring and gifted, such a character as + Orsino had not yet met in his limited experience of the world. The man seemed to + understand his business to the smallest details and could show the workmen how to mix + mortar in the right proportions, or how to strengthen a scaffolding at the weak point + much better than the overseer or the master builder. At the books he seemed to be + infallible, and he possessed, moreover, such a power of stating things clearly and + neatly that Orsino actually learnt from him in a few weeks what he would have needed + six months to learn anywhere else. As soon as the first dread of failure wore off, + Orsino discovered that he was happier than he had ever been in the course of his life + before. What he did was not, indeed, of much use in the progress of the office work + and rather hindered than helped Contini, who was obliged to do everything slowly and + sometimes twice over in order to make his pupil understand; but Orsino had a clear + and practical mind, and did not forget what he had learned once. An odd sort of + friendship sprang up between the two men, who under ordinary circumstances would + never have met, or known each other by sight. The one had expected to find in his + partner an overbearing, ignorant patrician; the other had supposed that his companion + would turn out a vulgar, sordid, half-educated builder. Both were equally surprised + when each discovered the truth about the other.</p> + <p>Though Orsino was reticent by nature, he took no especial pains to conceal his + goings and comings, but as his occupation took him out of the ordinary beat followed + by his idle friends, it was a long time before any of them discovered that he was + engaged in practical business. In his own home he was not questioned, and he said + nothing. The Saracinesca were considered eccentric, but no one interfered with them + nor ventured to offer them suggestions. If they chose to allow their heir absolute + liberty of action, merely because he had passed his twenty-first birthday, it was + their own concern, and his ruin would be upon their own heads. No one cared to risk a + savage retort from the aged prince, or a cutting answer from Sant' Ilario for the + questionable satisfaction of telling either that Orsino was going to the bad. The + only person who really knew what Orsino was about, and who could have claimed the + right to speak to his family of his doings was San Giacinto, and he held his peace, + having plenty of important affairs of his own to occupy him and being blessed with an + especial gift for leaving other people to themselves.</p> + <p>Sant' Ilario never spied upon his son, as many of his contemporaries would have + done in his place. He preferred to trust him to his own devices so long as these led + to no great mischief. He saw that Orsino was less restless than formerly, that he was + less at the club, and that he was stirring earlier in the morning than had been his + wont, and he was well satisfied.</p> + <p>It was not to be expected, however, that Orsino should take Maria Consuelo + literally at her word, and cease from visiting her all at once. If not really in love + with her, he was at least so much interested in her that he sorely missed the daily + half hour or more which he had been used to spend in her society.</p> + <p>Three several times he went to her hotel at the accustomed hour, and each time he + was told by the porter that she was at home; but on each occasion, also, when he sent + up his card, the hotel servant returned with a message from the maid to the effect + that Madame d'Aranjuez was tired and did not receive. Orsino's pride rebelled equally + against making a further attempt and against writing a letter requesting an + explanation. Once only, when he was walking alone she passed him in a carriage, and + she acknowledged his bow quietly and naturally, as though nothing had happened. He + fancied she was paler than usual, and that there were shadows under her eyes which he + had not formerly noticed. Possibly, he thought, she was really not in good health, + and the excuses made through her maid were not wholly invented. He was conscious that + his heart beat a little faster as he watched the back of the brougham disappearing in + the distance, but he did not feel an irresistible longing to make another and more + serious attempt to see her. He tried to analyse his own sensations, and it seemed to + him that he rather dreaded a meeting than desired it, and that he felt a certain + humiliation for which he could not account. In the midst of his analysis, his + cigarette went out and he sighed. He was startled by such an expression of feeling, + and tried to remember whether he had ever sighed before in his life, but if he had, + he could not recall the circumstances. He tried to console himself with the absurd + supposition that he was sleepy and that the long-drawn breath had been only a + suppressed yawn. Then he walked on, gazing before him into the purple haze that + filled the deep street just as the sun was setting, and a vague sadness and longing + touched him which had no place in his catalogue of permissible emotions and which + were as far removed from the cold cynicism which he admired in others and affected in + himself as they were beyond the sphere of his analysis.</p> + <p>There is an age, not always to be fixed exactly, at which the really masculine + nature craves the society of womankind, in one shape or another, as a necessity of + existence, and by the society of womankind no one means merely the daily and hourly + social intercourse which consists in exchanging the same set of remarks half a dozen + times a day with as many beings of gentle sex who, to the careless eye of ordinary + man, differ from each other in dress rather than in face or thought. There are + eminently manly men, that is to say men fearless, strong, honourable and active, to + whom the common five o'clock tea presents as much distraction and offers as much + womanly sympathy as they need; who choose their intimate friends among men, rather + than among women, and who die at an advanced age without ever having been more than + comfortably in love—and of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. The masculine man may + be as brave, as strong and as scrupulously just in all his dealings, but on the other + hand he may be weak, cowardly and a cheat, and he is apt to inherit the portion of + sinners, whatever his moral characteristics may be, good or bad.</p> + <p>Orsino was certainly not unmanly, but he was also eminently masculine and he began + to suffer from the loss of Maria Consuelo's conversation in a way that surprised + himself. His acquaintance with her, to give it a mild name, had been the first of the + kind which he had enjoyed, and it contrasted too strongly with the crude experiences + of his untried youth not to be highly valued by him and deeply regretted. He might + pretend to laugh at it, and repeat to himself that his Egeria had been but a very + superficial person, fervent in the reading of the daily novel and possibly not even + worldly wise; he did not miss her any the less for that. A little sympathy and much + patience in listening will go far to make a woman of small gifts indispensable even + to a man of superior talent, especially when he thinks himself misunderstood in his + ordinary surroundings. The sympathy passes for intelligence and the patience for + assent and encouragement—a touch of the hand, and there is friendship, a tear, + a sigh, and devotion stands upon the stage, bearing in her arms an infant love who + learns to walk his part at the first suspicion of a kiss.</p> + <p>Orsino did not imagine that he had exhausted the world's capabilities of + happiness. The age of Byronism, as it used to be called, is over. Possibly tragedies + are more real and frequent in our day than when the century was young; at all events + those which take place seem to draw a new element of horror from those undefinable, + mechanical, prosaic, psuedo-scientific conditions which make our lives so different + from those of our fathers. Everything is terribly sudden nowadays, and alarmingly + quick. Lovers make love across Europe by telegraph, and poetic justice arrives in + less than forty-eight hours by the Oriental Express. Divorce is our weapon of + precision, and every pack of cards at the gaming table can distil a poison more + destructive than that of the Borgia. The unities of time and place are preserved by + wire and rail in a way which would have delighted the hearts of the old French + tragics. Perhaps men seek dramatic situations in their own lives less readily since + they have found out means of making the concluding act more swift, sudden and + inevitable. At all events we all like tragedy less and comedy more than our fathers + did, which, I think, shows that we are sadder and possibly wiser men than they.</p> + <p>However this may be, Orsino was no more inclined to fancy himself unhappy than any + of his familiar companions, though he was quite willing to believe that he understood + most of life's problems, and especially the heart of woman. He continued to go into + the world, for it was new to him and if he did not find exactly the sort of sympathy + he secretly craved, he found at least a great deal of consideration, some flattery + and a certain amount of amusement. But when he was not actually being amused, or + really engaged in the work which he had undertaken with so much enthusiasm, he felt + lonely and missed Maria Consuelo more than ever. By this time she had taken a + position in society from which there could be no drawing back, and he gave up for + ever the hope of seeing her in his own circle. She seemed to avoid even the grey + houses where they might have met on neutral ground, and Orsino saw that his only + chance of finding her in the world lay in going frequently and openly to Del Ferice's + house. He had called on Donna Tullia after the dinner, of course, but he was not + prepared to do more, and Del Ferice did not seem to expect it.</p> + <p>Three or four weeks after he had entered into partnership with Andrea Contini, + Orsino found himself alone with his mother in the evening. Corona was seated near the + fire in her favourite boudoir, with a book in her hand, and Orsino stood warming + himself on one side of the chimney-piece, staring into the flames and occasionally + glancing at his mother's calm, dark face. He was debating whether he should stay at + home or not.</p> + <p>Corona became conscious that he looked at her from time to time and dropped her + novel upon her knee.</p> + <p>"Are you going out, Orsino?" she asked.</p> + <p>"I hardly know," he answered. "There is nothing particular to do, and it is too + late for the theatre."</p> + <p>"Then stay with me. Let us talk." She looked at him affectionately and pointed to + a low chair near her.</p> + <p>He drew it up until he could see her face as she spoke, and then sat down.</p> + <p>"What shall we talk about, mother?" he asked, with a smile.</p> + <p>"About yourself, if you like, my dear. That is, if you have anything that you know + I would like to hear. I am not curious, am I, Orsino? I never ask you questions about + yourself."</p> + <p>"No, indeed. You never tease me with questions—nor does my father either, + for that matter. Would you really like to know what I am doing?"</p> + <p>"If you will tell me."</p> + <p>"I am building a house," said Orsino, looking at her to see the effect of the + announcement.</p> + <p>"A house?" repeated Corona in surprise. "Where? Does your father know about + it?"</p> + <p>"He said he did not care what I did." Orsino spoke rather bitterly.</p> + <p>"That does not sound like him, my dear. Tell me all about it. Have you quarrelled + with him, or had words together?"</p> + <p>Orsino told his story quickly, concisely and with a frankness he would perhaps not + have shown to any one else in the world, for he did not even conceal his connection + with Del Ferice. Corona listened intently, and her deep eyes told him plainly enough + that she was interested. On his part he found an unexpected pleasure in telling her + the tale, and he wondered why it had never struck him that his mother might + sympathise with his plans and aspirations. When he had finished, he waited for her + first word almost as anxiously as he would have waited for an expression of opinion + from Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>Corona did not speak at once. She looked into his eyes, smiled, patted his lean + brown hand lovingly and smiled again before she spoke.</p> + <p>"I like it," she said at last. "I like you to be independent and determined. You + might perhaps have chosen a better man than Del Ferice for your adviser. He did + something once—well, never mind! It was long ago and it did us no harm."</p> + <p>"What did he do, mother? I know my father wounded him in a duel before you were + married—"</p> + <p>"It was not that. I would rather not tell you about it—it can do no good, + and after all, it has nothing to do with the present affair. He would not be so + foolish as to do you an injury now. I know him very well. He is far too clever for + that."</p> + <p>"He is certainly clever," said Orsino. He knew that it would be quite useless to + question his mother further after what she had said. "I am glad that you do not think + I have made a mistake in going into this business."</p> + <p>"No. I do not think you have made a mistake, and I do not believe that your father + will think so either when he knows all about it."</p> + <p>"He need not have been so icily discouraging," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"He is a man, my dear, and I am a woman. That is the difference. Was San Giacinto + more encouraging than he? No. They think alike, and San Giacinto has an immense + experience besides. And yet they are both wrong. You may succeed, or you may + fail—I hope you will succeed—but I do not care much for the result. It is + the principle I like, the idea, the independence of the thing. As I grow old, I think + more than I used to do when I was young."</p> + <p>"How can you talk of growing old!" exclaimed Orsino indignantly.</p> + <p>"I think more," said Corona again, not heeding him. "One of my thoughts is that + our old restricted life was a mistake for us, and that to keep it up would be a sin + for you. The world used to stand still in those days, and we stood at the head of it, + or thought we did. But it is moving now and you must move with it or you will not + only have to give up your place, but you will be left behind altogether."</p> + <p>"I had no idea that you were so modern, dearest mother," laughed Orsino. He felt + suddenly very happy and in the best of humours with himself.</p> + <p>"Modern—no, I do not think that either your father or I could ever be that. + If you had lived our lives you would see how impossible it is. The most I can hope to + do is to understand you and your brothers as you grow up to be men. But I hate + interference and I hate curiosity—the one breeds opposition and the other + dishonesty—and if the other boys turn out to be as reticent as you, Orsino, I + shall not always know when they want me. You do not realise how much you have been + away from me since you were a boy, nor how silent you have grown when you are at + home."</p> + <p>"Am I, mother? I never meant to be."</p> + <p>"I know it, dear, and I do not want you to be always confiding in me. It is not a + good thing for a young man. You are strong and the more you rely upon yourself, the + stronger you will grow. But when you want sympathy, if you ever do, remember that I + have my whole heart full of it for you. For that, at least, come to me. No one can + give you what I can give you, dear son."</p> + <p>Orsino was touched and pressed her hand, kissing it more than once. He did not + know whether in her last words she had meant any allusion to Maria Consuelo, or + whether, indeed, she had been aware of his intimacy with the latter. But he did not + ask the question of her nor of himself. For the moment he felt that a want in his + nature had been satisfied, and he wondered again why he had never thought of + confiding in his mother.</p> + <p>They talked of his plans until it was late, and from that time they were more + often together than before, each growing daily more proud of the other, though + perhaps Orsino had better reasons for his pride than Corona could have found, for the + love of mother for son is more comprehensive and not less blind than the passion of + woman for man.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XIV" name='CHAPTER_XIV'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>The short Roman season was advancing rapidly to its premature fall, which is on + Ash Wednesday, after which it struggles to hold up its head against the overwhelming + odds of a severely observed Lent, to revive only spasmodically after Easter and to + die a natural death on the first warm day. In that year, too, the fatal day fell on + the fifteenth of February, and progressive spirits talked of the possibility of + fixing the movable Feasts and Fasts of the Church in a more convenient part of the + calendar. Easter might be made to fall in June, for instance, and society need not be + informed of its inevitable and impending return to dust and ashes until it had + enjoyed a good three months, or even four, of what an eminent American defines as + "brass, sass, lies and sin."</p> + <p>Rome was very gay that year, to compensate for the shortness of its playtime. + Everything was successful, and every one was rich. People talked of millions less + soberly than they had talked of thousands a few years earlier, and with less respect + than they mentioned hundreds twelve months later. Like the vanity-struck frog, the + franc blew itself up to the bursting point, in the hope of being taken for the louis, + and momentarily succeeded, even beyond its own expectations. No one walked, though + horse-flesh was enormously dear and a good coachman's wages amounted to just twice + the salary of a government clerk. Men who, six months earlier, had climbed ladders + with loads of brick or mortar, were now transformed into flourishing sub-contractors, + and drove about in smart pony-carts, looking the picture of Italian prosperity, + rejoicing in the most flashy of ties and smoking the blackest and longest of long + black cigars. During twenty hours out of the twenty-four the gates of the city roared + with traffic. From all parts of the country labourers poured in, bundle in hand and + tools on shoulder to join in the enormous work and earn their share of the pay that + was distributed so liberally. A certain man who believed in himself stood up and said + that Rome was becoming one of the greatest of cities, and he smacked his lips and + said that he had done it, and that the Triple Alliance was a goose which would lay + many golden eggs. The believing bulls roared everything away before them, opposition, + objections, financial experience, and the vanquished bears hibernated in secret + places, sucking their paws and wondering what, in the name of Ursa Major and Ursa + Minor, would happen next. Distinguished men wrote pamphlets in the most distinguished + language to prove that wealth was a baby capable of being hatched artificially and + brought up by hand. Every unmarried swain who could find a bride, married her + forthwith; those who could not followed the advice of an illustrious poet and, being + over-anxious to take wives, took those of others. Everybody was decorated. It + positively rained decorations and hailed grand crosses and enough commanders' ribbons + were reeled out to have hanged half the population. The periodical attempt to revive + the defunct carnival in the Corso was made, and the yet unburied corpse of ancient + gaiety was taken out and painted, and gorgeously arrayed, and propped up in its seat + to be a posthumous terror to its enemies, like the dead Cid. Society danced + frantically and did all those things which it ought not to have done—and added + a few more, unconsciously imitating Pico della Mirandola.</p> + <p>Even those comparatively few families who, like the Saracinesca, had scornfully + declined to dabble in the whirlpool of affairs, did not by any means refuse to dance + to the music of success which filled the city with, such enchanting strains. The + Princess Befana rose from her deathbed with more than usual vivacity and went to the + length of opening her palace on two evenings in two successive weeks, to the intense + delight of her gay and youthful heirs, who earnestly hoped that the excitement might + kill her at last, and kill her beyond resurrection this time. But they were + disappointed. She still dies periodically in winter and blooms out again in spring + with the poppies, affording a perpetual and edifying illustration of the changes of + the year, or, as some say, of the doctrine of immortality. On one of those memorable + occasions she walked through a quadrille with the aged Prince Saracinesca, whereupon + Sant' Ilario slipped his arm round Corona's waist and waltzed with her down the whole + length of the ballroom and back again amidst the applause of his contemporaries and + their children. If Orsino had had a wife he would have followed their example. As it + was, he looked rather gloomily in the direction of a silent and high-born damsel with + whom he was condemned to dance the cotillon at a later hour.</p> + <p>So all went gaily on until Ash Wednesday extinguished the social flame, suddenly + and beyond relighting. And still Orsino did not meet Maria Consuelo, and still he + hesitated to make another attempt to find her at home. He began to wonder whether he + should ever see her again, and as the days went by he almost wished that Donna Tullia + would send him a card for her lenten evenings, at which Maria Consuelo regularly + assisted as he learned from the papers. After that first invitation to dinner, he had + expected that Del Ferice's wife would make an attempt to draw him into her circle; + and, indeed, she would probably have done so had she followed her own instinct + instead of submitting to the higher policy dictated by her husband. Orsino waited in + vain, not knowing whether to be annoyed at the lack of consideration bestowed upon + him, or to admire the tact which assumed that he would never wish to enter the Del + Ferice circle.</p> + <p>It is presumably clear that Orsino was not in love with Madame d'Aranjuez, and he + himself appreciated the fact with a sense of disappointment. He was amazed at his own + coldness and at the indifference with which he had submitted to what amounted to a + most abrupt dismissal. He even went so far as to believe that Maria Consuelo had + repulsed him designedly in the hope of kindling a more sincere passion. In that case + she had been egregiously mistaken, he thought. He felt a curiosity to see her again + before she left Rome, but it was nothing more than that. A new and absorbing interest + had taken possession of him which at first left little room in his nature for + anything else. His days were spent in the laborious study of figures and plans, + broken only by occasional short but amusing conversations with Andrea Contini. His + evenings were generally passed among a set of people who did not know Maria Consuelo + except by sight and who had long ceased to ask him questions about her. Of late, too, + he had missed his daily visits to her less and less, until he hardly regretted them + at all, nor so much as thought of the possibility of renewing them. He laughed at the + idea that his mother should have taken the place of a woman whom he had begun to + love, and yet he was conscious that it was so, though he asked himself how long such + a condition of things could last. Corona was far too wise to discuss his affairs with + his father. He was too like herself for her to misunderstand him, and if she regarded + the whole matter as perfectly harmless and as a legitimate subject for general + conversation, she yet understood perfectly that having been once rebuffed by Sant' + Ilario, Orsino must wish to be fully successful in his attempt before mentioning it + again to the latter. And she felt so strongly in sympathy with her son that his work + gradually acquired an intense interest for her, and she would have sacrificed much + rather than see it fail. She did not on that account blame Giovanni for his + discouraging view when Orsino had consulted him. Giovanni was the passion of her life + and was not fallible in his impulses, though his judgment might sometimes be at fault + in technical matters for which he cared nothing. But her love for her son was as + great and sincere in its own way, and her pride in him was such as to make his + success a condition of her future happiness.</p> + <p>One of the greatest novelists of this age begins one of his greatest novels with + the remark that "all happy families resemble each other, but that every unhappy + family is unhappy in its own especial way." Generalities are dangerous in proportion + as they are witty or striking, or both, and it may be asked whether the great Tolstoi + has not fallen a victim to his own extraordinary power of striking and witty + generalisations. Does the greatest of all his generalisations, the wide disclaimer of + his early opinions expressed in the postscript subsequently attached by him to his + <i>Kreutzer Sonata</i>, include also the words I have quoted, and which were set up, + so to say, as the theme of his <i>Anna Karjenina</i>? One may almost hope so. I am no + critic, but those words somehow seem to me to mean that only unhappiness can be + interesting. It is not pleasant to think of the consequences to which the acceptance + of such a statement might lead.</p> + <p>There are no statistics to tell us whether the majority of living men and women + are to be considered as happy or unhappy. But it does seem true that whereas a single + circumstance can cause very great and lasting unhappiness, felicity is always + dependent upon more than one condition and often upon so many as to make the + explanation of it a highly difficult and complicated matter.</p> + <p>Corona had assuredly little reason to complain of her lot during the past twenty + years, but unruffled and perfect as it had seemed to her she began to see that there + were sources of sorrow and satisfaction before her which had not yet poured their + bitter or sweet streams into the stately river of her mature life. The new interest + which Orsino had created for her became more and more absorbing, and she watched it + and tended it, and longed to see it grow to greater proportions. The situation was + strange in one way at least. Orsino was working and his mother was helping him to + work in the hope of a financial success which neither of them wanted or cared for. + Possibly the certainty that failure could entail no serious consequences made the + game a more amusing if a less exciting one to play.</p> + <p>"If I lose," said Orsino to her, "I can only lose the few thousands I invested. If + I win, I will give you a string of pearls as a keepsake."</p> + <p>"If you lose, dear boy," answered Corona, "it must be because you had not enough + to begin with. I will give you as much as you need, and we will try again."</p> + <p>They laughed happily together. Whatever chanced, things must turn out well. Orsino + worked very hard, and Corona was very rich in her own right and could afford to help + to any extent she thought necessary. She could, indeed, have taken the part of the + bank and advanced him all the money he needed, but it seemed useless to interfere + with the existing arrangements.</p> + <p>In Lent the house had reached an important point in its existence. Andrea Contini + had completed the Gothic roof and the turret which appeared to him in the first + vision of his dream, but to which the defunct baker had made objections on the score + of expense. The masons were almost all gone and another set of workmen were busy with + finer tools moulding cornices and laying on the snow-white stucco. Within, the + joiners and carpenters kept up a ceaseless hammering.</p> + <p>One day Andrea Contini walked into the office after a tour of inspection, with a + whole cigar, unlighted and intact, between his teeth. Orsino was well aware from this + circumstance that something unusually fortunate had happened or was about to happen, + and he rose from his books, as soon as he recognised the fair-weather signal.</p> + <p>"We can sell the house whenever we like," said the architect, his bright brown + eyes sparkling with satisfaction.</p> + <p>"Already!" exclaimed Orsino who, though equally delighted at the prospect of such + speedy success, regretted in his heart the damp walls and the constant stir of work + which he had learned to like so well.</p> + <p>"Already—yes. One needs luck like ours! The count has sent a man up in a cab + to say that an acquaintance of his will come and look at the building to-day between + twelve and one with a view to buying. The sooner we look out for some fresh + undertaking, the better. What do you say, Don Orsino?"</p> + <p>"It is all your doing, Contini. Without you I should still be standing outside and + watching the mattings flapping in the wind, as I did on that never-to-be-forgotten + first day."</p> + <p>"I conceive that a house cannot be built without an architect," answered Contini, + laughing, "and it has always been plain to me that there can be no architects without + houses to build. But as for any especial credit to me, I refute the charge + indignantly. I except the matter of the turret, which is evidently what has attracted + the buyer. I always thought it would. You would never have thought of a turret, would + you, Don Orsino?"</p> + <p>"Certainly not, nor of many other things," answered Orsino, laughing. "But I am + sorry to leave the place. I have grown into liking it."</p> + <p>"What can one do? It is the way of the world—'lieto ricordo d'un amor che + fù,'" sang Contini in the thin but expressive falsetto which seems to be the + natural inheritance of men who play upon stringed instruments. He broke off in the + middle of a bar and laughed, out of sheer delight at his own good fortune.</p> + <p>In due time the purchaser came, saw and actually bought. He was a problematic + personage with a disquieting nose, who spoke few words but examined everything with + an air of superior comprehension. He looked keenly at Orsino but seemed to have no + idea who he was and put all his questions to Contini.</p> + <p>After agreeing to the purchase he inquired whether Andrea Contini and Company had + any other houses of the same description building and if so where they were situated, + adding that he liked the firm's way of doing things. He stipulated for one or two + slight improvements, made an appointment for a meeting with the notaries on the + following day and went off with a rather unceremonious nod to the partners. The name + he left was that of a well-known capitalist from the south, and Contini was inclined + to think he had seen him before, but was not certain.</p> + <p>Within a week the business was concluded, the buyer took over the mortgage as + Orsino and Contini had done and paid the difference in cash into the bank, which + deducted the amounts due on notes of hand before handing the remainder to the two + young men. The buyer also kept back a small part of the purchase money to be paid on + taking possession, when the house was to be entirely finished. Andrea Contini and + Company had realised a considerable sum of money.</p> + <p>"The question is, what to do next," said Orsino thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"We had better look about us for something promising," said his partner. "A corner + lot in this same quarter. Corner houses are more interesting to build and people like + them to live in because they can see two or three ways at once. Besides, a corner is + always a good place for a turret. Let us take a walk—smoking and strolling, we + shall find something."</p> + <p>"A year ago, no doubt," answered Orsino, who was becoming worldly wise. "A year + ago that would have been well enough. But listen to me. That house opposite to ours + has been finished some time, yet nobody has bought it. What is the reason?"</p> + <p>"It faces north and not south, as ours does, and it has not a Gothic roof."</p> + <p>"My dear Contini, I do not mean to say that the Gothic roof has not helped us very + much, but it cannot have helped us alone. How about those two houses together at the + end of the next block. Balconies, travertine columns, superior doors and windows, + spaces for hydraulic lifts and all the rest of it. Yet no one buys. Dry, too, and + almost ready to live in, and all the joinery of pitch pine. There is a reason for + their ill luck."</p> + <p>"What do you think it is?" asked Contini, opening his eyes.</p> + <p>"The land on which they are built was not in the hands of Del Ferice's bank, and + the money that built them was not advanced by Del Ferice's bank, and Del Ferice's + bank has no interest in selling the houses themselves. Therefore they are not + sold."</p> + <p>"But surely there are other banks in Rome, and private individuals—"</p> + <p>"No, I do not believe that there are," said Orsino with conviction. "My cousin of + San Giacinto thinks that the selling days are over, and I fancy he is right, except + about Del Ferice, who is cleverer than any of us. We had better not deceive + ourselves, Contini. Del Ferice sold our house for us, and unless we keep with him we + shall not sell another so easily. His bank has a lot of half-finished houses on its + hands secured by mortgages which are worthless until the houses are habitable. Del + Ferice wants us to finish those houses for him, in order to recover their value. If + we do it, we shall make a profit. If we attempt anything on our own account we shall + fail. Am I right or not?"</p> + <p>"What can I say? At all events you are on the safe side. But why has not the count + given all this work to some old established firm of his acquaintance?"</p> + <p>"Because he cannot trust any one as he can trust us, and he knows it."</p> + <p>"Of course I owe the count a great deal for his kindness in introducing me to you. + He knew all about me before the baker died, and afterwards I waited for him outside + the Chambers one evening and asked him if he could find anything for me to do, but he + did not give me much encouragement. I saw you speak to him and get into his + carriage—was it not you?"</p> + <p>"Yes—it was I," answered Orsino, remembering the tall man in an overcoat who + had disappeared in the dusk on the evening when he himself had first sought Del + Ferice. "Yes, and you see we are both under a sort of obligation to him which is + another reason for taking his advice."</p> + <p>"Obligations are humiliating!" exclaimed Contini impatiently. "We have succeeded + in increasing our capital—your capital, Don Orsino—let us strike out for + ourselves."</p> + <p>"I think my reasons are good," said Orsino quietly. "And as for obligations, let + us remember that we are men of business."</p> + <p>It appears from this that the low-born Andrea Contini and the high and mighty Don + Orsino Saracinesca were not very far from exchanging places so far as prejudice was + concerned. Contini noticed the fact and smiled.</p> + <p>"After all," he said, "if you can accept the situation, I ought to accept it, + too."</p> + <p>"It is a matter of business," said Orsino, returning to his argument. "There is no + such thing as obligation where money is borrowed on good security and a large + interest is regularly paid."</p> + <p>It was clear that Orsino was developing commercial instincts. His grandfather + would have died of rage on the spot if he could have listened to the young fellow's + cool utterances. But Contini was not pleased and would not abandon his position so + easily.</p> + <p>"It is very well for you, Don Orsino," he said, vainly attempting to light his + cigar. "You do not need the money as I do. You take it from Del Ferice because it + amuses you to do so, not because you are obliged to accept it. That is the + difference. The count knows It too, and knows that he is not conferring a favour but + receiving one. You do him an honour in borrowing his money. He lays me under an + obligation in lending it."</p> + <p>"We must get money somewhere," answered Orsino with indifference. "If not from Del + Ferice, then from some other bank. And as for obligations, as you call them, he is + not the bank himself, and the bank does not lend its money in order to amuse me or to + humiliate you, my friend. But if you insist, I shall say that the convenience is not + on one side only. If Del Ferice supports us it is because we serve his interests. If + he has done us a good turn, it is a reason why we should do him one, and build his + houses rather than those of other people. You talk about my conferring a favour upon + him. Where will he find another Andrea Contini and Company to make worthless property + valuable for him? In that sense you and I are earning his gratitude, by the simple + process of being scrupulously honest. I do not feel in the least humiliated, I assure + you."</p> + <p>"I cannot help it," replied Contini, biting his cigar savagely. "I have a heart, + and it beats with good blood. Do you know that there is blood of Cola di Rienzo in my + veins?"</p> + <p>"No. You never told me," answered Orsino, one of whose forefathers had been + concerned in the murder of the tribune, a fact to which he thought it best not to + refer at the present moment.</p> + <p>"And the blood of Cola di Rienzo burns under the shame of an obligation!" cried + Contini, with a heat hardly warranted by the circumstances. "It is humiliating, it is + base, to submit to be the tool of a Del Ferice—we all know who and what Del + Ferice was, and how he came by his title of count, and how he got his fortune—a + spy, an intriguer! In a good cause? Perhaps. I was not born then, nor you either, + Signor Principe, and we do not know what the world was like, when it was quite + another world. That is not a reason for serving a spy!"</p> + <p>"Calm yourself, my friend. We are not in Del Ferice's service."</p> + <p>"Better to die than that! Better to kill him at once and go to the galleys for a + few years! Better to play the fiddle, or pick rags, or beg in the streets than that, + Signor Principe. One must respect oneself. You see it yourself. One must be a man, + and feel as a man. One must feel those things here, Signor Principe, here in the + heart!"</p> + <p>Contini struck his breast with his clenched fist and bit the end of his cigar + quite through in his anger. Then he suddenly seized his hat and rushed out of the + room.</p> + <p>Orsino was less surprised at the outburst than might have been expected, and did + not attach any great weight to his partner's dramatic rage. But he lit a cigarette + and carefully thought over the situation, trying to find out whether there were + really any ground for Contini's first remarks. He was perfectly well aware that as + Orsino Saracinesca he would cut his own throat with enthusiasm rather than borrow a + louis of Ugo Del Ferice. But as Andrea Contini and Company he was another person, and + so Del Ferice was not Count Del Ferice, nor the Onorevole Del Ferice, but simply a + director in a bank with which he had business. If the interests of Andrea Contini and + Company were identical with those of the bank, there was no reason whatever for + interrupting relations both amicable and profitable, merely because one member of the + firm claimed to be descended from Cola di Bienzo, a defunct personage in whom Orsino + felt no interest whatever. Andrea Contini, considering his social relations, might be + on terms of friendship with his hatter, for instance, or might have personal reasons + for disliking him. In neither case could the buying of a hat from that individual be + looked upon as an obligation conferred or received by either party. This was quite + clear, and Orsino was satisfied.</p> + <p>"Business is business," he said to himself, "and people who introduce personal + considerations into a financial transaction will get the worst of the bargain."</p> + <p>Andrea Contini was apparently of the same opinion, for when he entered the room + again at the end of an hour his excitement had quite disappeared.</p> + <p>"If we take another contract from the count," he said, "is there any reason why we + should not take a larger one, if it is to be had? We could manage three or four + buildings now that you have become such a good bookkeeper."</p> + <p>"I am quite of your opinion," Orsino answered, deciding at once to make no + reference to what had gone before.</p> + <p>"The only question is, whether we have capital enough for a margin."</p> + <p>"Leave that to me."</p> + <p>Orsino determined to consult his mother, in whose judgment he felt a confidence + which he could not explain but which was not misplaced. The fact was simple enough. + Corona understood him thoroughly, though her comprehension of his business was more + than limited, and she did nothing in reality but encourage his own sober opinion when + it happened to be at variance with some enthusiastic inclination which momentarily + deluded him. That quiet pushing of a man's own better reason against his half + considered but often headstrong impulses, is after all one of the best and most + loving services which a wise woman can render to a man whom she loves, be he husband, + son or brother. Many women have no other secret, and indeed there are few more + valuable ones, if well used and well kept. But let not graceless man discover that it + is used upon him. He will resent being led by his own reason far more than being made + the senseless slave of a foolish woman's wildest caprice. To select the best of + himself for his own use is to trample upon his free will. To send him barefoot to + Jericho in search of a dried flower is to appeal to his heart. Man is a reasoning + animal.</p> + <p>Corona, as was to be expected, was triumphant in Orsino's first success, and spent + as much time in talking over the past and the future with him as she could command + during his own hours of liberty. He needed no urging to continue in the same course, + but he enjoyed her happiness and delighted in her encouragement.</p> + <p>"Contini wishes to take a large contract," he said to her, after the interview + last described. "I agree with him, in a way. We could certainly manage a larger + business."</p> + <p>"No doubt," Corona answered thoughtfully, for she saw that there was some + objection to the scheme in his own mind.</p> + <p>"I have learned a great deal," he continued, "and we have much more capital than + we had. Besides, I suppose you would lend me a few thousands if we needed them, would + you not, mother?"</p> + <p>"Certainly, my dear. You shall not be hampered by want of money."</p> + <p>"And then, it is possible that we might make something like a fortune in a short + time. It would be a great satisfaction. But then, too—" He stopped.</p> + <p>"What then?" asked Corona, smiling.</p> + <p>"Things may turn out differently. Though I have been successful this time, I am + much more inclined to believe that San Giacinto was right than I was before I began. + All this movement does not rest on a solid basis."</p> + <p>A financier of thirty years' standing could not have made the statement more + impressively, and Orsino was conscious that he was assuming an elderly tone. He + laughed the next moment.</p> + <p>"That is a stock phrase, mother," he continued. "But it means something. + Everything is not what it should be. If the demand were as great as people say it is, + there would not be half a dozen houses—better houses than ours—unsold in + our street. That is why I am afraid of a big contract. I might lose all my money and + some of yours."</p> + <p>"It would not be of much consequence if you did," answered Corona. "But of course + you will be guided by your own judgment, which, is much better than mine. One must + risk something, of course, but there is no use in going into danger."</p> + <p>"Nevertheless, I should enjoy a big venture immensely."</p> + <p>"There is no reason why you should not try one, when the moment comes, my dear. I + suppose that a few months will decide whether there is to be a crisis or not. In the + meantime you might take something moderate, neither so small as the last, nor so + large as you would like. You will get more experience, risk less and be better + prepared for a crash if it comes, or to take advantage of anything favourable if + business grows safer."</p> + <p>Orsino was silent for a moment.</p> + <p>"You are very wise, mother," he said. "I will take your advice."</p> + <p>Corona had indeed acted as wisely as she could. The only flaw in her reasoning was + her assertion that a few months would decide the fate of Roman affairs. If it were + possible to predict a crisis even within a few months, speculation would be a less + precarious business than it is.</p> + <p>Orsino and his mother might have talked longer and perhaps to better purpose, but + they were interrupted by the entrance of a servant, bearing a note. Corona + instinctively put out her hand to receive it.</p> + <p>"For Don Orsino," said the man, stopping before him.</p> + <p>Orsino took the letter, looked at it and turned it over.</p> + <p>"I think it is from Madame d'Aranjuez," he remarked, without emotion. "May I read + it?"</p> + <p>"There is no answer, Eccellenza," said the servant, whose curiosity was + satisfied.</p> + <p>"Read it, of course," said Corona, looking at him.</p> + <p>She was surprised that Madame d'Aranjuez should write to him, but she was still + more astonished to see the indifference with which he opened the missive. She had + imagined that he was more or less in love with Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"I fancy it is the other way," she thought. "The woman wants to marry him. I might + have suspected it."</p> + <p>Orsino read the note, and tossed it into the fire without volunteering any + information.</p> + <p>"I will take your advice, mother," he said, continuing the former conversation, as + though nothing had happened.</p> + <p>But the subject seemed to be exhausted, and before long Orsino made an excuse to + his mother and went out.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XV" name='CHAPTER_XV'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>There was nothing in the note burnt by Orsino which he might not have shown to his + mother, since he had already told her the name of the writer. It contained the simple + statement that Maria Consuelo was about to leave Rome, and expressed the hope that + she might see Orsino before her departure as she had a small request to make of him, + in the nature of a commission. She hoped he would forgive her for putting him to so + much inconvenience.</p> + <p>Though he betrayed no emotion in reading the few lines, he was in reality annoyed + by them, and he wished that he might be prevented from obeying the summons. Maria + Consuelo had virtually dropped the acquaintance, and had refused repeatedly and in a + marked way to receive him. And now, at the last moment, when she needed something of + him, she chose to recall him by a direct invitation. There was nothing to be done but + to yield, and it was characteristic of Orsino that, having submitted to necessity, he + did not put off the inevitable moment, but went to her at once.</p> + <p>The days were longer now than they had been during the time when he had visited + her every day, and the lamp was not yet on the table when Orsino entered the small + sitting-room. Maria Consuelo was standing by the window, looking out into the street, + and her right hand rested against the pane while her fingers tapped it softly but + impatiently. She turned quickly as he entered, but the light was behind her and he + could hardly see her face. She came towards him and held out her hand.</p> + <p>"It is very kind of you to have come so soon," she said, as she took her old + accustomed place by the table.</p> + <p>Nothing was changed, excepting that the two or three new books at her elbow were + not the same ones which had been there two months earlier. In one of them was thrust + the silver paper-cutter with the jewelled handle, which Orsino had never missed. He + wondered whether there were any reason for the unvarying sameness of these + details.</p> + <p>"Of course I came," he said. "And as there was time to-day, I came at once."</p> + <p>He spoke rather coldly, still resenting her former behaviour and expecting that + she would immediately say what she wanted of him. He would promise to execute the + commission, whatever it might be, and after ten minutes of conversation he would take + his leave. There was a short pause, during which he looked at her. She did not seem + well. Her face was pale and her eyes were deep with shadows. Even her auburn hair had + lost something of its gloss. Yet she did not look older than before, a fact which + proved her to be even younger than Orsino had imagined. Saving the look of fatigue + and suffering in her face, Maria Consuelo had changed less than Orsino during the + winter, and she realised the fact at a glance. A determined purpose, hard work, the + constant exertion of energy and will, and possibly, too, the giving up to a great + extent of gambling and strong drinks, had told in Orsino's face and manner as a + course of training tells upon a lazy athlete. The bold black eyes had a more quiet + glance, the well-marked features had acquired strength and repose, the lean jaw was + firmer and seemed more square. Even physically, Orsino had improved, though the + change was undefinable. Young as he was, something of the power of mature manhood was + already coming over his youth.</p> + <p>"You must have thought me very—rude," said Maria Consuelo, breaking the + silence and speaking with a slight hesitation which Orsino had never noticed + before.</p> + <p>"It is not for me to complain, Madame," he answered. "You had every + right—"</p> + <p>He stopped short, for he was reluctant to admit that she had been justified in her + behaviour towards him.</p> + <p>"Thanks," she said, with an attempt to laugh. "It is pleasant to find magnanimous + people now and then. I do not want you to think that I was capricious. That is + all."</p> + <p>"I certainly do not think that. You were most consistent. I called three times and + always got the same answer."</p> + <p>He fancied that he heard her sigh, but she tried to laugh again.</p> + <p>"I am not imaginative," she answered. "I daresay you found that out long go. You + have much more imagination than I."</p> + <p>"It is possible, Madame—but you have not cared to develop it."</p> + <p>"What do you mean?"</p> + <p>"What does it matter? Do you remember what you said when I bade you good-night at + the window of your carriage after Del Ferice's dinner? You said that you were not + angry with me. I was foolish enough to imagine that you were in earnest. I came again + and again, but you would not see me. You did not encourage my illusion."</p> + <p>"Because I would not receive you? How do you know what happened to me? How can you + judge of my life? By your own? There is a vast difference."</p> + <p>"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Orsino almost impatiently. "I know what you are going to + say. It will be flattering to me of course. The unattached young man is dangerous to + the reputation. The foreign lady is travelling alone. There is the foundation of a + vaudeville in that!"</p> + <p>"If you must be unjust, at least do not be brutal," said Maria Consuelo in a low + voice, and she turned her face away from him.</p> + <p>"I am evidently placed in the world to offend you, Madame. Will you believe that I + am sorry for it, though I only dimly comprehend my fault? What did I say? That you + were wise in breaking off my visits, because you are alone here, and because I am + young, unmarried and unfortunately a little conspicuous in my native city. Is it + brutal to suggest that a young and beautiful woman has a right not to be compromised? + Can we not talk freely for half an hour, as we used to talk, and then say good-bye + and part good friends until you come to Rome again?"</p> + <p>"I wish we could!" There was an accent of sincerity in the tone which pleased + Orsino.</p> + <p>"Then begin by forgiving me all my sins, and put them down to ignorance, want of + tact, the inexperience of youth or a naturally weak understanding. But do not call me + brutal on such slight provocation."</p> + <p>"We shall never agree for a long time," answered Maria Consuelo thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"Why not?"</p> + <p>"Because, as I told you, there is too great a difference between our lives. Do not + answer me as you did before, for I am right. I began by admitting that I was rude. If + that is not enough I will say more—I will even ask you to forgive me—can + I do more?"</p> + <p>She spoke so earnestly that Orsino was surprised and almost touched. Her manner + now was even less comprehensible than her repeated refusals to see him had been.</p> + <p>"You have done far too much already," he said gravely. "It is mine to ask your + forgiveness for much that I have done and said. I only wish that I understood you + better."</p> + <p>"I am glad you do not," replied Maria Consuelo, with a sigh which this time was + not to be mistaken. "There is a sadness which it is better not to understand," she + added softly.</p> + <p>"Unless one can help to drive it away." He, too, spoke gently, his voice being + attracted to the pitch and tone of hers.</p> + <p>"You cannot do that—and if you could, you would not."</p> + <p>"Who can tell?"</p> + <p>The charm which he had formerly felt so keenly in her presence but which he had of + late so completely forgotten, was beginning to return and he submitted to it with a + sense of satisfaction which he had not anticipated. Though the twilight was coming + on, his eyes had become accustomed to the dimness in the room and he saw every change + in her pale, expressive face. She leaned back in her chair with eyes half closed.</p> + <p>"I like to think that you would, if you knew how," she said presently.</p> + <p>"Do you not know that I would?"</p> + <p>She glanced quickly at him, and then, instead of answering, rose from her seat and + called to her maid through one of the doors, telling her to bring the lamp. She sat + down again, but being conscious that they were liable to interruption, neither of the + two spoke. Maria Consuelo's fingers played with the silver knife, drawing it out of + the book in which it lay and pushing it back again. At last she took it up and looked + closely at the jewelled monogram on the handle.</p> + <p>The maid entered, set the shaded lamp upon the table and glanced sharply at + Orsino. He could not help noticing the look. In a moment she was gone, and the door + closed behind her. Maria Consuelo looked over her shoulder to see that it had not + been left ajar.</p> + <p>"She is a very extraordinary person, that elderly maid of mine," she said.</p> + <p>"So I should imagine from her face."</p> + <p>"Yes. She looked at you as she passed and I saw that you noticed it. She is my + protector. I never have travelled without her and she watches over me—as a cat + watches a mouse."</p> + <p>The little laugh that accompanied the words was not one of satisfaction, and the + shade of annoyance did not escape Orsino.</p> + <p>"I suppose she is one of those people to whose ways one submits because one cannot + live without them," he observed.</p> + <p>"Yes. That is it. That is exactly it," repeated Maria Consuelo. "And she is very + strongly attached to me," she added after an instant's hesitation. "I do not think + she will ever leave me. In fact we are attached to each other."</p> + <p>She laughed again as though amused by her own way of stating the relation, and + drew the paper-cutter through her hand two or three times. Orsino's eyes were oddly + fascinated by the flash of the jewels.</p> + <p>"I would like to know the history of that knife," he said, almost + thoughtlessly.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo started and looked at him, paler even than before. The question + seemed to be a very unexpected one.</p> + <p>"Why?" she asked quickly.</p> + <p>"I always see it on the table or in your hand," answered Orsino. "It is associated + with you—I think of it when I think of you. I always fancy that it has a + story."</p> + <p>"You are right. It was given to me by a person who loved me."</p> + <p>"I see—I was indiscreet."</p> + <p>"No—you do not see, my friend. If you did you—you would understand + many things, and perhaps it is better that you should not know them."</p> + <p>"Your sadness? Should I understand that, too?"</p> + <p>"No. Not that."</p> + <p>A slight colour rose in her face, and she stretched out her hand to arrange the + shade of the lamp, with a gesture long familiar to him.</p> + <p>"We shall end by misunderstanding each other," she continued in a harder tone. + "Perhaps it will be my fault. I wish you knew much more about me than you do, but + without the necessity of telling you the story. But that is impossible. This + paper-cutter—for instance, could tell the tale better than I, for it made + people see things which I did not see."</p> + <p>"After it was yours?"</p> + <p>"Yes. After it was mine."</p> + <p>"It pleases you to be very mysterious," said Orsino with a smile.</p> + <p>"Oh no! It does not please me at all," she answered, turning her face away again. + "And least of all with you—my friend."</p> + <p>"Why least with me?"</p> + <p>"Because you are the first to misunderstand. You cannot help it. I do not blame + you."</p> + <p>"If you would let me be your friend, as you call me, it would be better for us + both."</p> + <p>He spoke as he had assuredly not meant to speak when he had entered the room, and + with a feeling that surprised himself far more than his hearer. Maria Consuelo turned + sharply upon him.</p> + <p>"Have you acted like a friend towards me?" she asked.</p> + <p>"I have tried to," he answered, with more presence of mind than truth.</p> + <p>Her tawny eyes suddenly lightened.</p> + <p>"That is not true. Be truthful! How have you acted, how have you spoken with me? + Are you ashamed to answer?"</p> + <p>Orsino raised his head rather haughtily, and met her glance, wondering whether any + man had ever been forced into such a strange position before. But though her eyes + were bright, their look was neither cold nor defiant.</p> + <p>"You know the answer," he said. "I spoke and acted as though I loved you, Madame, + but since you dismissed me so very summarily, I do not see why you wish me to say + so."</p> + <p>"And you, Don Orsino, have you ever been loved—loved in earnest—by any + woman?"</p> + <p>"That is a very strange question, Madame."</p> + <p>"I am discreet. You may answer it safely."</p> + <p>"I have no doubt of that."</p> + <p>"But you will not? No—that is your right. But it would be kind of + you—I should be grateful if you would tell me—has any woman ever loved + you dearly?"</p> + <p>Orsino laughed, almost in spite of himself. He had little false pride.</p> + <p>"It is humiliating, Madame. But since you ask the question and require a + categorical answer, I will make my confession. I have never been loved. But you will + observe, as an extenuating circumstance, that I am young. I do not give up all + hope."</p> + <p>"No—you need not," said Maria Consuelo in a low voice, and again she moved + the shade of the lamp.</p> + <p>Though Orsino was by no means fatuous, he must have been blind if he had not seen + by this time that Madame d'Aranjuez was doing her best to make him speak as he had + formerly spoken to her, and to force him into a declaration of love. He saw it, + indeed, and wondered; but although he felt her charm upon him, from time to time, he + resolved that nothing should induce him to relax even so far as he had done already + more than once during the interview. She had placed him in a foolish position once + before, and he would not expose himself to being made ridiculous again, in her eyes + or his. He could not discover what intention she had in trying to lead him back to + her, but he attributed it to her vanity. She regretted, perhaps, having rebuked him + so soon, or perhaps she had imagined that he would have made further and more + determined efforts to see her. Possibly, too, she really wished to ask a service of + him, and wished to assure herself that she could depend upon him by previously + extracting an avowal of his devotion. It was clear that one of the two had mistaken + the other's character or mood, though it was impossible to say which was the one + deceived.</p> + <p>The silence which followed lasted some time, and threatened to become awkward. + Maria Consuelo could not or would not speak and Orsino did not know what to say. He + thought of inquiring what the commission might be with which, according to her note, + she had wished to entrust him. But an instant's reflection told him that the question + would be tactless. If she had invented the idea as an excuse for seeing him, to + mention it would be to force her hand, as card-players say, and he had no intention + of doing that. Even if she really had something to ask of him, he had no right to + change the subject so suddenly. He bethought him of a better question.</p> + <p>"You wrote me that you were going away," he said quietly. "But you will come back + next winter, will you not, Madame?"</p> + <p>"I do not know," she answered, vaguely. Then she started a little, as though + understanding his words. "What am I saying!" she exclaimed. "Of course I shall come + back."</p> + <p>"Have you been drinking from the Trevi fountain by moonlight, like those mad + English?" he asked, with a smile.</p> + <p>"It is not necessary. I know that I shall come back—if I am alive."</p> + <p>"How you say that! You are as strong as I—"</p> + <p>"Stronger, perhaps. But then—who knows! The weak ones sometimes last the + longest."</p> + <p>Orsino thought she was growing very sentimental, though as he looked at her he was + struck again by the look of suffering in her eyes. Whatever weakness she felt was + visible there, there was nothing in the full, firm little hand, in the strong and + easy pose of the head, in the softly coloured ear half hidden by her hair, that could + suggest a coming danger to her splendid health.</p> + <p>"Let us take it for granted that you will come back to us," said Orsino + cheerfully.</p> + <p>"Very well, we will take it for granted. What then?"</p> + <p>The question was so sudden and direct that Orsino fancied there ought to be an + evident answer to it.</p> + <p>"What then?" he repeated, after a moment's hesitation. "I suppose you will live in + these same rooms again, and with your permission, a certain Orsino Saracinesca will + visit you from time to time, and be rude, and be sent away into exile for his sins. + And Madame d'Aranjuez will go a great deal to Madame Del Ferice's and to other + ultra-White houses, which will prevent the said Orsino from meeting her in society. + She will also be more beautiful than ever, and the daily papers will describe a + certain number of gowns which she will bring with her from Paris, or Vienna, or + London, or whatever great capital is the chosen official residence of her great + dressmaker. And the world will not otherwise change very materially in the course of + eight months."</p> + <p>Orsino laughed lightly, not at his own speech, which he had constructed rather + clumsily under the spur of necessity, but in the hope that she would laugh, too, and + begin to talk more carelessly. But Maria Consuelo was evidently not inclined for + anything but the most serious view of the world, past, present and future.</p> + <p>"Yes," she answered gravely. "I daresay you are right. One comes, one shows one's + clothes, and one goes away again—and that is all. It would be very much the + same if one did not come. It is a great mistake to think oneself necessary to any + one. Only things are necessary—food, money and something to talk about."</p> + <p>"You might add friends to the list," said Orsino, who was afraid of being called + brutal again if he did not make some mild remonstrance to such a sweeping + assertion.</p> + <p>"Friends are included under the head of 'something to talk about,'" answered Maria + Consuelo.</p> + <p>"That is an encouraging view."</p> + <p>"Like all views one gets by experience."</p> + <p>"You grow more and more bitter."</p> + <p>"Does the world grow sweeter as one grows older?"</p> + <p>"Neither you nor I have lived long enough to know," answered Orsino.</p> + <p>"Facts make life long—not years."</p> + <p>"So long as they leave no sign of age, what does it matter?"</p> + <p>"I do not care for that sort of flattery."</p> + <p>"Because it is not flattery at all. You know the truth too well. I am not + ingenious enough to flatter you, Madame. Perfection is not flattered when it is + called perfect."</p> + <p>"It is at all events impossible to exaggerate better than you can," answered Maria + Consuelo, laughing at last at the overwhelming compliment. "Where did you learn + that?"</p> + <p>"At your feet, Madame. The contemplation of great masterpieces enlarges the + intelligence and deepens the power of expression."</p> + <p>"And I am a masterpiece—of what? Of art? Of caprice? Of consistency?"</p> + <p>"Of nature," answered Orsino promptly.</p> + <p>Again Maria Consuelo laughed a little, at the mere quickness of the answer. Orsino + was delighted with himself, for he fancied he was leading her rapidly away from the + dangerous ground upon which she had been trying to force him. But her next words + showed him that he had not yet succeeded.</p> + <p>"Who will make me laugh during all these months!" she exclaimed with a little + sadness.</p> + <p>Orsino thought she was strangely obstinate, and wondered what she would say + next.</p> + <p>"Dear me, Madame," he said, "if you are so kind as to laugh at my poor wit, you + will not have to seek far to find some one to amuse you better!"</p> + <p>He knew how to put on an expression of perfect simplicity when he pleased, and + Maria Consuelo looked at him, trying to be sure whether he were in earnest or not. + But his face baffled her.</p> + <p>"You are too modest," she said.</p> + <p>"Do you think it is a defect? Shall I cultivate a little more assurance of + manner?" he asked, very innocently.</p> + <p>"Not to-day. Your first attempt might lead you into extremes."</p> + <p>"There is not the slightest fear of that, Madame," he answered with some + emphasis.</p> + <p>She coloured a little and her closed lips smiled in a way he had often noticed + before. He congratulated himself upon these signs of approaching ill-temper, which + promised an escape from his difficulty. To take leave of her suddenly was to abandon + the field, and that he would not do. She had determined to force him into a + confession of devotion, and he was equally determined not to satisfy her. He had + tried to lead her off her track with frivolous talk and had failed. He would try and + irritate her instead, but without incurring the charge of rudeness. Why she was + making such an attack upon him, was beyond his understanding, but he resented it, and + made up his mind neither to fly nor yield. If he had been a hundredth part as cynical + as he liked to fancy himself, he would have acted very differently. But he was young + enough to have been wounded by his former dismissal, though he hardly knew it, and to + seek almost instinctively to revenge his wrongs. He did not find it easy. He would + not have believed that such a woman as Maria Consuelo could so far forget her pride + as to go begging for a declaration of love.</p> + <p>"I suppose you will take Gouache's portrait away with you," he observed, changing + the subject with a directness which he fancied would increase her annoyance.</p> + <p>"What makes you think so?" she asked, rather drily.</p> + <p>"I thought it a natural question."</p> + <p>"I cannot imagine what I should do with it. I shall leave it with him."</p> + <p>"You will let him send it to the Salon in Paris, of course?"</p> + <p>"If he likes. You seem interested in the fate of the picture."</p> + <p>"A little. I wondered why you did not have it here, as it has been finished so + long."</p> + <p>"Instead of that hideous mirror, you mean? There would be less variety. I should + always see myself in the same dress."</p> + <p>"No—on the opposite wall. You might compare truth with fiction in that + way."</p> + <p>"To the advantage of Gouache's fiction, you would say. You were more complimentary + a little while ago."</p> + <p>"You imagine more rudeness than even I am capable of inventing."</p> + <p>"That is saying much. Why did you change the subject just now?"</p> + <p>"Because I saw that you were annoyed at something. Besides, we were talking about + myself, if I remember rightly."</p> + <p>"Have you never heard that a man should always talk to a woman about himself or + herself?"</p> + <p>"No. I never heard that. Shall we talk of you, then, Madame?"</p> + <p>"Do you care to talk of me?" asked Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>Another direct attack, Orsino thought.</p> + <p>"I would rather hear you talk of yourself," he answered without the least + hesitation.</p> + <p>"If I were to tell you my thoughts about myself at the present moment, they would + surprise you very much."</p> + <p>"Agreeably or disagreeably?"</p> + <p>"I do not know. Are you vain?"</p> + <p>"As a peacock!" replied Orsino quickly.</p> + <p>"Ah—then what I am thinking would not interest you."</p> + <p>"Why not?"</p> + <p>"Because if it is not flattering it would wound you, and if it is flattering it + would disappoint you—by falling short of your ideal of yourself."</p> + <p>"Yet I confess that I would like to know what you think of me, though I would much + rather hear what you think of yourself."</p> + <p>"On one condition, I will tell you."</p> + <p>"What is that?"</p> + <p>"That you will give me your word to give me your own opinion of me + afterwards."</p> + <p>"The adjectives are ready, Madame, I give you my word."</p> + <p>"You give it so easily! How can I believe you?"</p> + <p>"It is so easy to give in such a case, when one has nothing disagreeable to + say."</p> + <p>"Then you think me agreeable?"</p> + <p>"Eminently!"</p> + <p>"And charming?"</p> + <p>"Perfectly!"</p> + <p>"And beautiful?"</p> + <p>"How can you doubt it?"</p> + <p>"And in all other respects exactly like all the women in society to whom you + repeat the same commonplaces every day of your life?"</p> + <p>The feint had been dexterous and the thrust was sudden, straight and + unexpected.</p> + <p>"Madame!" exclaimed Orsino in the deprecatory tone of a man taken by surprise.</p> + <p>"You see—you have nothing to say!" She laughed a little bitterly.</p> + <p>"You take too much for granted," he said, recovering himself. "You suppose that + because I agree with you upon one point after another, I agree with you in the + conclusion. You do not even wait to hear my answer, and you tell me that I am + checkmated when I have a dozen moves from which to choose. Besides, you have directly + infringed the conditions. You have fired before the signal and an arbitration would + go against you. You have done fifty things contrary to agreement, and you accuse me + of being dumb in my own defence. There is not much justice in that. You promise to + tell me a certain secret on condition that I will tell you another. Then, without + saying a word on your own part you stone me with quick questions and cry victory + because I protest. You begin before I have had so much as—"</p> + <p>"For heaven's sake stop!" cried Maria Consuelo, interrupting a speech which + threatened to go on for twenty minutes. "You talk of chess, duelling and stoning to + death, in one sentence—I am utterly confused! You upset all my ideas!"</p> + <p>"Considering how you have disturbed mine, it is a fair revenge. And since we both + admit that we have disturbed that balance upon which alone depends all possibility of + conversation, I think that I can do nothing more graceful—pardon me, nothing + less ungraceful—than wish you a pleasant journey, which I do with all my heart, + Madame."</p> + <p>Thereupon Orsino rose and took his hat.</p> + <p>"Sit down. Do not go yet," said Maria Consuelo, growing a shade paler, and + speaking with an evident effort.</p> + <p>"Ah—true!" exclaimed Orsino. "We were forgetting the little commission you + spoke of in your note. I am entirely at your service."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo looked at him quickly and her lips trembled.</p> + <p>"Never mind that," she said unsteadily. "I will not trouble you. But I do not want + you to go away as—as you were going. I feel as though we had been quarrelling. + Perhaps we have. But let us say we are good friends—if we only say it."</p> + <p>Orsino was touched and disturbed. Her face was very white and her hand trembled + visibly as she held it out. He took it in his own without hesitation.</p> + <p>"If you care for my friendship, you shall have no better friend in the world than + I," he said, simply and naturally.</p> + <p>"Thank you—good-bye. I shall leave to-morrow."</p> + <p>The words were almost broken, as though she were losing control of her voice. As + he closed the door behind him, the sound of a wild and passionate sob came to him + through the panel. He stood still, listening and hesitating. The truth which would + have long been clear to an older or a vainer man, flashed upon him suddenly. She + loved him very much, and he no longer cared for her. That was the reason why she had + behaved so strangely, throwing her pride and dignity to the winds in her desperate + attempt to get from him a single kind and affectionate word—from him, who had + poured into her ear so many words of love but two months earlier, and from whom to + draw a bare admission of friendship to-day she had almost shed tears.</p> + <p>To go back into the room would be madness; since he did not love her, it would + almost be an insult. He bent his head and walked slowly down the corridor. He had not + gone far, when he was confronted by a small dark figure that stopped the way. He + recognised Maria Consuelo's elderly maid.</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon, Signore Principe," said the little black-eyed woman. "You will + allow me to say a few words? I thank you, Eccellenza. It is about my Signora, in + there, of whom I have charge."</p> + <p>"Of whom, you have charge?" repeated Orsino, not understanding her.</p> + <p>"Yes—precisely. Of course, I am only her maid. You understand that. But I + have charge of her though she does not know it. The poor Signora has had terrible + trouble during the last few years, and at times—you understand? She is a + little—yes—here." She tapped her forehead. "She is better now. But in my + position I sometimes think it wiser to warn some friend of hers—in strict + confidence. It sometimes saves some little unnecessary complication, and I was + ordered to do so by the doctors we last consulted in Paris. You will forgive me, + Eccellenza, I am sure."</p> + <p>Orsino stared at the woman for some seconds in blank astonishment. She smiled in a + placid, self-confident way.</p> + <p>"You mean that Madame d'Aranjuez is—mentally deranged, and that you are her + keeper? It is a little hard to believe, I confess."</p> + <p>"Would you like to see my certificates, Signor Principe? Or the written directions + of the doctors? I am sure you are discreet."</p> + <p>"I have no right to see anything of the kind," answered Orsino coldly. "Of course, + if you are acting under instructions it is no concern of mine."</p> + <p>He would have gone forward, but she suddenly produced a small bit of note-paper, + neatly folded, and offered it to him.</p> + <p>"I thought you might like to know where we are until we return," she said, + continuing to speak in a very low voice. "It is the address."</p> + <p>Orsino made an impatient gesture. He was on the point of refusing the information + which he had not taken the trouble to ask of Maria Consuelo herself. But he changed + his mind and felt in his pocket for something to give the woman. It seemed the + easiest and simplest way of getting rid of her. The only note he had, chanced to be + one of greater value than necessary.</p> + <p>"A thousand thanks, Eccellenza!" whispered the maid, overcome by what she took for + an intentional piece of generosity.</p> + <p>Orsino left the hotel as quickly as he could.</p> + <p>"For improbable situations, commend me to the nineteenth century and the society + in which we live!" he said to himself as he emerged into the street.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XVI" name='CHAPTER_XVI'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>It was long before Orsino saw Maria Consuelo again, but the circumstances of his + last meeting with her constantly recurred to his mind during the following months. It + is one of the chief characteristics of Rome that it seems to be one of the most + central cities in Europe during the winter, whereas in the summer months it appears + to be immensely remote from the rest of the civilised world. From having been the + prey of the inexpressible foreigner in his shooting season, it suddenly becomes, and + remains during about five months, the happy hunting ground of the silent flea, the + buzzing fly and the insinuating mosquito. The streets are, indeed, still full of + people, and long lines of carriages may be seen towards sunset in the Villa Borghesa + and in the narrow Corso. Rome and the Romans are not easily parted as London and + London society, for instance. May comes—the queen of the months in the south. + June follows. Southern blood rejoices in the first strong sunshine. July trudges in + at the gates, sweating under the cloudless sky, heavy, slow of foot, oppressed by the + breath of the coming dog-star. Still the nights are cool. Still, towards sunset, the + refreshing breeze sweeps up from the sea and fills the streets. Then behind closely + fastened blinds, the glass windows are opened and the weary hand drops the fan at + last. Then men and women array themselves in the garments of civilisation and sally + forth, in carriages, on foot, and in trams, according to the degrees of social + importance which provide that in old countries the middle term shall be made to + suffer for the priceless treasure of a respectability which is a little higher than + the tram and financially not quite equal to the cab. Then, at that magic touch of the + west wind the house-fly retires to his own peculiar Inferno, wherever that may be, + the mosquito and the gnat pause in their work of darkness and blood to concert fresh + and more bloodthirsty deeds, and even the joyous and wicked flea tires of the war + dance and lays down his weary head to snatch a hard-earned nap. July drags on, and + terrible August treads the burning streets bleaching the very dust up on the + pavement, scourging the broad campagna with fiery lashes of heat. Then the white-hot + sky reddens in the evening when it cools, as the white iron does when it is taken + from the forge. Then at last, all those who can escape from the condemned city flee + for their lives to the hills, while those who must face the torment of the sun and + the poison of the air turn pale in their sufferings, feebly curse their fate and then + grow listless, weak and irresponsible as over-driven galley slaves, indifferent to + everything, work, rest, blows, food, sleep and the hope of release. The sky darkens + suddenly. There is a sort of horror in the stifling air. People do not talk much, and + if they do are apt to quarrel and sometimes to kill one another without warning. The + plash of the fountains has a dull sound like the pouring out of molten lead. The + horses' hoofs strike visible sparks out of the grey stones in broad daylight. Many + houses are shut, and one fancies that there must be a dead man in each whom no one + will bury. A few great drops of rain make ink-stains on the pavement at noon, and + there is an exasperating, half-sulphurous smell abroad. Late in the afternoon they + fall again. An evil wind comes in hot blasts from all quarters at once—then a + low roar like an earthquake and presently a crash that jars upon the overwrought + nerves—great and plashing drops again, a sharp short flash—then crash + upon crash, deluge upon deluge, and the worst is over. Summer has received its first + mortal wound. But its death is more fatal than its life. The noontide heat is fierce + and drinks up the moisture of the rain and the fetid dust with it. The fever-wraith + rises in the damp, cool night, far out in the campagna, and steals up to the walls of + the city, and over them and under them and into the houses. If there are any yet left + in Rome who can by any possibility take themselves out of it, they are not long in + going. Till that moment, there has been only suffering to be borne; now, there is + danger of something worse. Now, indeed, the city becomes a desert inhabited by + white-faced ghosts. Now, if it be a year of cholera, the dead carts rattle through + the streets all night on their way to the gate of Saint Lawrence, and the workmen + count their numbers when they meet at dawn. But the bad days are not many, if only + there be rain enough, for a little is worse than none. The nights lengthen and the + September gales sweep away the poison-mists with kindly strength. Body and soul + revive, as the ripe grapes appear in their vine-covered baskets at the street + corners. Rich October is coming, the month in which the small citizens of Rome take + their wives and the children to the near towns, to Marino, to Froscati, to Albano and + Aricia, to eat late fruits and drink new must, with songs and laughter, and small + miseries and great delights such as are remembered a whole year. The first clear + breeze out of the north shakes down the dying leaves and brightens the blue air. The + brown campagna turns green again, and the heart of the poor lame cab-horse is lifted + up. The huge porter of the palace lays aside his linen coat and his pipe, and opens + wide the great gates; for the masters are coming back, from their castles and country + places, from the sea and from the mountains, from north and south, from the magic + shore of Sorrento, and from distant French bathing places, some with brides or + husbands, some with rosy Roman babies making their first trumphal entrance into + Rome—and some, again, returning companionless to the home they had left in + companionship. The great and complicated machinery of social life is set in order and + repaired for the winter; the lost or damaged pieces in the engine are carefully + replaced with new ones which will do as well or better, the joints and bearings are + lubricated, the whistle of the first invitation is heard, there is some puffing and a + little creaking at first, and then the big wheels begin to go slowly round, solemnly + and regularly as ever, while all the little wheels run as fast as they can and set + fire to their axles in the attempt to keep up the speed, and are finally jammed and + caught up and smashed, as little wheels are sure to be when they try to act like big + ones. But unless something happens to one of the very biggest the machine does not + stop until the end of the season, when it is taken to pieces again for repairs.</p> + <p>That is the brief history of a Roman year, of which the main points are very much + like those of its predecessor and successor. The framework is the same, but the + decorations change, slowly, surely and not, perhaps, advantageously, as the younger + generation crowds into the place of the older—as young acquaintances take the + place of old friends, as faces strange to us hide faces we have loved.</p> + <p>Orsino Saracinesca, in his new character as a contractor and a man of business, + knew that he must either spend the greater part of the summer in town, or leave his + affairs in the hands of Andrea Contini. The latter course was repugnant to him, + partly because he still felt a beginner's interest in his first success, and partly + because he had a shrewd suspicion that Contini, if left to himself in the hot + weather, might be tempted to devote more time to music than to architecture. The + business, too, was now on a much larger scale than before, though Orsino had taken + his mother's advice in not at once going so far as he might have gone. It needed all + his own restless energy, all Contini's practical talents, and perhaps more of Del + Ferice's influence than either of them suspected, to keep it going on the road to + success.</p> + <p>In July Orsino's people made ready to go up to Saracinesca. The old prince, to + every one's surprise, declared his intention of going to England, and roughly refused + to be accompanied by any one of the family. He wanted to find out some old friends, + he said, and desired the satisfaction of spending a couple of months in peace, which + was quite impossible at home, owing to Giovanni's outrageous temper and Orsino's + craze for business. He thereupon embraced them all affectionately, indulged in a + hearty laugh and departed in a special carriage with his own servants.</p> + <p>Giovanni objected to Orsino's staying in Rome during the great heat. Though Orsino + had not as yet entered into any explanation with his father, but the latter + understood well enough that the business had turned out better than had been expected + and began to feel an interest in its further success, for his son's sake. He saw the + boy developing into a man by a process which he would naturally have supposed to be + the worst possible one, judging from his own point of view. But he could not find + fault with the result. There was no disputing the mental superiority of the Orsino of + July over the Orsino of the preceding January. Whatever the sensation which Giovanni + experienced as he contemplated the growing change, it was not one of anxiety nor of + disappointment. But he had a Roman's well-founded prejudice against spending August + and September in town. His objections gave rise to some discussion, in which Corona + joined.</p> + <p>Orsino enlarged upon the necessity of attending in person to the execution of his + contracts. Giovanni suggested that he should find some trustworthy person to take his + place. Corona was in favour of a compromise. It would be easy, she said, for Orsino + to spend two or three days of every week in Rome and the remainder in the country + with his father and mother. They were all three quite right according to their own + views, and they all three knew it. Moreover they were all three very obstinate + people. The consequence was that Orsino, who was in possession, so to say, since the + other two were trying to make him change his mind, got the best of the argument, and + won his first pitched battle. Not that there was any apparent hostility, or that any + of the three spoke hotly or loudly. They were none of them like old Saracinesca, + whose feats of argumentation were vehement, eccentric and fiery as his own nature. + They talked with apparent calm through a long summer's afternoon, and the vanquished + retired with a fairly good grace, leaving Orsino master of the field. But on that + occasion Giovanni Saracinesca first formed the opinion that his son was a match for + him, and that it would be wise in future to ascertain the chances of success before + incurring the risk of a humiliating defeat.</p> + <p>Giovanni and his wife went out together and talked over the matter as their + carriage swept round the great avenues of Villa Borghesa.</p> + <p>"There is no question of the fact that Orsino is growing up—is grown up + already," said Sant' Ilario, glancing at Corona's calm, dark face.</p> + <p>She smiled with a certain pride, as she heard the words.</p> + <p>"Yes," she answered, "he is a man. It is a mistake to treat him as a boy any + longer."</p> + <p>"Do you think it is this sudden interest in business that has changed him so?"</p> + <p>"Of course—what else?"</p> + <p>"Madame d'Aranjuez, for instance," Giovanni suggested.</p> + <p>"I do not believe she ever had the least influence over him. The flirtation seems + to have died a natural death. I confess, I hoped it might end in that way, and I am + glad if it has. And I am very glad that Orsino is succeeding so well. Do you know, + dear? I am glad, because you did not believe it possible that he should."</p> + <p>"No, I did not. And now that I begin to understand it, he does not like to talk to + me about his affairs. I suppose that is only natural. Tell me—has he really + made money? Or have you been giving him money to lose, in order that he may buy + experience."</p> + <p>"He has succeeded alone," said Corona proudly. "I would give him whatever he + needed, but he needs nothing. He is immensely clever and immensely energetic. How + could he fail?"</p> + <p>"You seem to admire our firstborn, my dear," observed Giovanni with a smile.</p> + <p>"To tell the truth, I do. I have no doubt that he does all sorts of things which + he ought not to do, and of which I know nothing. You did the same at his age, and I + shall be quite satisfied if he turns out like you. I would not like to have a + lady-like son with white hands and delicate sensibilities, and hypocritical + affectations of exaggerated morality. I think I should be capable of trying to make + such a boy bad, if it only made him manly—though I daresay that would be very + wrong."</p> + <p>"No doubt," said Giovanni. "But we shall not be placed in any such position by + Orsino, my dear. You remember that little affair last year, in England? It was very + nearly a scandal. But then—the English are easily led into temptation and very + easily scandalised afterwards. Orsino will not err in the direction of hypocritical + morality. But that is not the question. I wish to know, from you since he does not + confide in me, how far he is really succeeding."</p> + <p>Corona gave her husband a remarkably clear statement of Orsino's affairs, without + exaggeration so far as the facts were concerned, but not without highly favourable + comment. She did not attempt to conceal her triumph, now that success had been in a + measure attained, and she did not hesitate to tell Giovanni that he ought to have + encouraged and supported the boy from the first.</p> + <p>Giovanni listened with very great interest, and bore her affectionate reproaches + with equanimity. He felt in his heart that he had done right, and he somehow still + believed that things were not in reality all that they seemed to be. There was + something in Orsino's immediate success against odds apparently heavy, which + disturbed his judgment. He had not, it was true, any personal experience of the + building speculations in the city, nor of financial transactions in general, as at + present understood, and he had recently heard of cases in which individuals had + succeeded beyond their own wildest expectations. There was, perhaps, no reason why + Orsino should not do as well as other people, or even better, in spite of his extreme + youth. Andrea Contini was probably a man of superior talent, well able to have + directed the whole affair alone, if other circumstances had been favourable to him, + and there was on the whole nothing to prove that the two young men had received more + than their fair share of assistance or accommodation from the bank. But Giovanni knew + well enough that Del Ferice was the most influential personage in the bank in + question, and the mere suggestion of his name lent to the whole affair a suspicious + quality which disturbed Orsino's father. In spite of all reasonable reflexions there + was an air of unnatural good fortune in the case which he did not like, and he had + enough experience of Del Ferice's tortuous character to distrust his intentions. He + would have preferred to see his son lose money through Ugo rather than that Orsino + should owe the latter the smallest thanks. The fact that he had not spoken with the + man for over twenty years did not increase the confidence he felt in him. In that + time Del Ferice had developed into a very important personage, having much greater + power to do harm than he had possessed in former days, and it was not to be supposed + that he had forgotten old wounds or given up all hope of avenging them. Del Ferice + was not very subject to that sort of forgetfulness.</p> + <p>When Corona had finished speaking, Giovanni was silent for a few moments.</p> + <p>"Is it not splendid?" Corona asked enthusiastically. "Why do you not say anything? + One would think that you were not pleased."</p> + <p>"On the contrary, as far as Orsino is concerned, I am delighted. But I do not + trust Del Ferice."</p> + <p>"Del Ferice is far too clever a man to ruin Orsino," answered Corona.</p> + <p>"Exactly. That is the trouble. That is what makes me feel that though Orsino has + worked hard and shown extraordinary intelligence—and deserves credit for + that—yet he would not have succeeded in the same way if he had dealt with any + other bank. Del Ferice has helped him. Possibly Orsino knows that, as well as we do, + but he certainly does not know what part Del Ferice played in our lives, Corona. If + he did, he would not accept his help."</p> + <p>In her turn Corona was silent and a look of disappointment came into her face. She + remembered a certain afternoon in the mountains when she had entreated Giovanni to + let Del Ferice escape, and Giovanni had yielded reluctantly and had given the + fugitive a guide to take him to the frontier. She wondered whether the generous + impulse of that day was to bear evil fruit at last.</p> + <p>"Orsino knows nothing about it at all," she said at last. "We kept the secret of + Del Ferice's escape very carefully—for there were good reasons to be careful in + those days. Orsino only knows that you once fought a duel with the man and wounded + him."</p> + <p>"I think it is time that he knew more."</p> + <p>"Of what use can it be to tell him those old stories?" asked Corona. "And after + all, I do not believe that Del Ferice has done so much. If you could have followed + Orsino's work, day by day and week by week, as I have, you would see how much is + really due to his energy. Any other banker would have done as much as he. Besides, it + is in Del Ferice's own interest—"</p> + <p>"That is the trouble," interrupted Giovanni. "It is bad enough that he should help + Orsino. It is much worse that he should help him in order to make use of him. If, as + you say, any other bank would do as much, then let him go to another bank. If he owes + Del Ferice money at the present moment, we will pay it for him."</p> + <p>"You forget that he has bought the buildings he is now finishing, from Del Ferice, + on a mortgage."</p> + <p>Giovanni laughed a little.</p> + <p>"How you have learned to talk about mortgages and deeds and all sorts of + business!" he exclaimed. "But what you say is not an objection. We can pay off these + mortgages, I suppose, and take the risk ourselves."</p> + <p>"Of course we could do that," Corona answered, thoughtfully. "But I really think + you exaggerate the whole affair. For the time being, Del Ferice is not a man, but a + banker. His personal character and former doings do not enter into the matter."</p> + <p>"I think they do," said Giovanni, still unconvinced.</p> + <p>"At all events, do not make trouble now, dear," said Corona in earnest tones. "Let + the present contract be executed and finished, and then speak to Orsino before he + makes another. Whatever Del Ferice may have done, you can see for yourself that + Orsino is developing in a way we had not expected, and is becoming a serious, + energetic man. Do not step in now, and check the growth of what is good. You will + regret it as much as I shall. When he has finished these buildings he will have + enough experience to make a new departure."</p> + <p>"I hate the idea of receiving a favour from Del Ferice, or of laying him under an + obligation. I think I will go to him myself."</p> + <p>"To Del Ferice?" Corona started and looked round at Giovanni as she sat. She had a + sudden vision of new trouble.</p> + <p>"Yes. Why not? I will go to him and tell him that I would rather wind up my son's + business with him, as our former relations were not of a nature to make transactions + of mutual profit either fitting or even permissible between any of our family and Ugo + Del Ferice."</p> + <p>"For Heaven's sake, Giovanni, do not do that."</p> + <p>"And why not?" He was surprised at her evident distress.</p> + <p>"For my sake, then—do not quarrel with Del Ferice—it was different + then, in the old days. I could not bear it now—" she stopped, and her lower lip + trembled a little.</p> + <p>"Do you love me better than you did then, Corona?"</p> + <p>"So much better—I cannot tell you."</p> + <p>She touched his hand with hers and her dark eyes were a little veiled as they met + his. Both were silent for a moment.</p> + <p>"I have no intention of quarrelling with Del Ferice, dear," said Giovanni, + gently.</p> + <p>His face had grown a shade paler as she spoke. The power of her hand and voice to + move him, had not diminished in all the years of peaceful happiness that had passed + so quickly.</p> + <p>"I do not mean any such thing," he said again. "But I mean this. I will not have + it said that Del Ferice has made a fortune for Orsino, nor that Orsino has helped Del + Ferice's interests. I see no way but to interfere myself. I can do it without the + suspicion of a quarrel."</p> + <p>"It will be a great mistake, Giovanni. Wait till there is a new contract."</p> + <p>"I will think of it, before doing anything definite."</p> + <p>Corona well knew that she should get no greater concession than this. The point of + honour had been touched in Giovanni's sensibilities and his character was stubborn + and determined where his old prejudices were concerned. She loved him very dearly, + and this very obstinacy of his pleased her. But she fancied that trouble of some sort + was imminent. She understood her son's nature, too, and dreaded lest he should be + forced into opposing his father.</p> + <p>It struck her that she might herself act as intermediary. She could certainly + obtain concessions from Orsino which Giovanni could not hope to extract by force or + stratagem. But the wisdom of her own proposal in the matter seemed unassailable. The + business now in hand should be allowed to run its natural course before anything was + done to break off the relations between Orsino and Del Ferice.</p> + <p>In the evening she found an opportunity of speaking with Orsino in private. She + repeated to him the details of her conversation with Giovanni during the drive in the + afternoon.</p> + <p>"My dear mother," answered Orsino, "I do not trust Del Ferice any more than you + and my father trust him. You talk of things which he did years ago, but you do not + tell me what those things were. So far as I understand, it all happened before you + were married. My father and he quarrelled about something, and I suppose there was a + lady concerned in the matter. Unless you were the lady in question, and unless what + he did was in the nature of an insult to you, I cannot see how the matter concerns + me. They fought and it ended there, as affairs of honour do. If it touched you, then + tell me so, and I will break with Del Ferice to-morrow morning."</p> + <p>Corona was silent, for Orsino's speech was very plain, and if she answered it all, + the answer must be the truth. There could be no escape from that. And the truth would + be very hard to tell. At that time she had been still the wife of old Astrardente, + and Del Ferice's offence had been that he had purposely concealed himself in the + conservatory of the Frangipan's palace in order to overhear what Giovanni Saracinesca + was about to say to another man's wife. The fact that on that memorable night she had + bravely resisted a very great temptation did not affect the difficulty of the present + case in any way. She asked herself rather whether Del Ferice's eavesdropping would + appear to Orsino to be in the nature of an insult to her, to use his own words, and + she had no doubt but that it would seem so. At the same time she would find hard to + explain to her son why Del Ferice suspected that there was to be anything said to her + worth overhearing, seeing that she bore at that time the name of another man then + still living. How could Orsino understand all that had gone before? Even now, though + she knew that she had acted well, she humbly believed that she might have done much + better. How would her son judge her? She was silent, waiting for him to speak + again.</p> + <p>"That would be the only conceivable reason for my breaking with Del Ferice," said + Orsino. "We only have business relations, and I do not go to his house. I went once. + I saw no reason for telling you so at the time, and I have not been there again. It + was at the beginning of the whole affair. Outside of the bank, we are the merest + acquaintances. But I repeat what I said. If he ever did anything which makes it + dishonourable for me to accept even ordinary business services from him, let me know + it. I have some right to hear the truth."</p> + <p>Corona hesitated, and laid the case again before her own conscience, and tried to + imagine herself in her son's position. It was hard to reach a conclusion. There was + no doubt but that when she had learned the truth, long after the event, she had felt + that she had been insulted and justly avenged. If she said nothing now, Orsino would + suspect something and would assuredly go to his father, from whom he would get a view + of the case not conspicuous for its moderation. And Giovanni would undoubtedly tell + his son the details of what had followed, how Del Ferice had attempted to hinder the + marriage when it was at last possible, and all the rest of the story. At the same + time, she felt that so far as her personal sensibilities were concerned, she had not + the least objection to the continuance of a mere business relation between Orsino and + Del Ferice. She was more forgiving than Giovanni.</p> + <p>"I will tell you this much, my dear boy," she said, at last. "That old quarrel did + concern me and no one else. Your father feels more strongly about it than I do, + because he fought for me and not for himself. You trust me, Orsino. You know that I + would rather see you dead than doing anything dishonourable. Very well. Do not ask + any more questions, and do not go to your father about it. Del Ferice has only + advanced you money, in a business way, on good security and at a high interest. So + far as I can judge of the point of honour involved, what happened long ago need not + prevent your doing what you are doing now. Possibly, when you have finished the + present contract, you may think it wiser to apply to some other bank, or to work on + your own account with my money."</p> + <p>Corona believed that she had found the best way out of the difficulty, and Orsino + seemed satisfied, for he nodded thoughtfully and said nothing. The day had been + filled with argument and discussion about his determination to stay in town, and he + was weary of the perpetual question and answer. He knew his mother well, and was + willing to take her advice for the present. She, on her part, told Giovanni what she + had done, and he consented to consider the matter a little longer before interfering. + He disliked even the idea of a business relation extremely, but he feared that there + was more behind the appearances of commercial fairness than either he or Orsino + himself could understand. The better Orsino succeeded, the less his father was + pleased, and his suspicions were not unfounded. He knew from San Giacinto that + success was becoming uncommon, and he knew that all Orsino's industry and energy + could not have sufficed to counterbalance his inexperience. Andrea Contini, too, had + been recommended by Del Ferice, and was presumably Del Ferice's man.</p> + <p>On the following day Giovanni and Corona with the three younger boys went up to + Saracinesca leaving Orsino alone in the great palace, to his own considerable + satisfaction. He was well pleased with himself and especially at having carried his + point. At his age, and with his constitution, the heat was a matter of supreme + indifference to him, and he looked forward with delight to a summer of uninterrupted + work in the not uncongenial society of Andrea Contini. As for the work itself, it was + beginning to have a sort of fascination for him as he understood it better. The love + of building, the passion for stone and brick and mortar, is inherent in some natures, + and is capable of growing into a mania little short of actual insanity. Orsino began + to ask himself seriously whether it were too late to study architecture as a + profession and in the meanwhile he learned more of it in practice from Contini than + he could have acquired in twice the time at any polytechnic school in Europe.</p> + <p>He liked Contini himself more and more as the days went by. Hitherto he had been + much inclined to judge his own countrymen from his own class. He was beginning to see + that he had understood little or nothing of the real Italian nature when uninfluenced + by foreign blood. The study interested and pleased him. Only one unpleasant memory + occasionally disturbed his peace of mind. When he thought of his last meeting with + Maria Consuelo he hated himself for the part he had played, though he was quite + unable to account logically, upon his assumed principles, for the severity of his + self-condemnation.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XVII" name='CHAPTER_XVII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino necessarily led a monotonous life, though, his occupation was an absorbing + one. Very early in the morning he was with Contini where the building was going on. + He then passed the hot hours of the day in the office, which, as before, had been + established in one of the unfinished houses. Towards evening, he went down into the + city to his home, refreshed himself after his long day's work, and then walked or + drove until half past eight, when he went to dinner in the garden of a great + restaurant in the Corso. Here he met a few acquaintances who, like himself, had + reasons for staying in town after their families had left. He always sat at the same + small table, at which there was barely room for two persons, for he preferred to be + alone, and he rarely asked a passing friend to sit down with him.</p> + <p>On a certain hot evening in the beginning of August he had just taken his seat, + and was trying to make up his mind whether he were hungry enough to eat anything or + whether it would not be less trouble to drink a glass of iced coffee and go away, + when he was aware of a lank shadow cast across the white cloth by the glaring + electric light. He looked up and saw Spicca standing there, apparently uncertain + where to sit down for the place was fuller than usual. He liked the melancholy old + man and spoke to him, offering to share his table.</p> + <p>Spicca hesitated a moment and then accepted the invitation. He deposited his hat + upon a chair beside him and leaned back, evidently exhausted either in mind or body, + if not in both.</p> + <p>"I am very much obliged to you, my dear Orsino," he said. "There is an abominable + crowd here, which means an unusual number of people to avoid—just as many as I + know, in fact, excepting yourself."</p> + <p>"I am glad you do not wish to avoid me, too," observed Orsino, by way of saying + something.</p> + <p>"You are a less evil—so I choose you in preference to the greater," Spicca + answered. But there was a not unkindly look in his sunken eyes as he spoke.</p> + <p>He tipped the great flask of Chianti that hung in its swinging plated cradle in + the middle of the table, and filled two glasses.</p> + <p>"Since all that is good has been abolished, let us drink to the least of evils," + he said, "in other words, to each other."</p> + <p>"To the absence of friends," answered Orsino, touching the wine with his lips.</p> + <p>Spicca emptied his glass slowly and then looked at him.</p> + <p>"I like that toast," he said. "To the absence of friends. I daresay you have heard + of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Do they still teach the dear old tale in these + modern schools? No. But you have heard it—very well. You will remember that if + they had not allowed the serpent to scrape acquaintance with them, on pretence of a + friendly interest in their intellectual development, Adam and Eve would still be + inventing names for the angelic little wild beasts who were too well-behaved to eat + them. They would still be in paradise. Moreover Orsino Saracinesca and John + Nepomucene Spicca would not be in daily danger of poisoning in this vile cookshop. + Summary ejection from Eden was the first consequence of friendship, and its results + are similar to this day. What nauseous mess are we to swallow to-night? Have you + looked at the card?"</p> + <p>Orsino laughed a little. He foresaw that Spicca would not be dull company on this + particular evening. Something unusually disagreeable had probably happened to him + during the day. After long and melancholy hesitation he ordered something which he + believed he could eat, and Orsino followed his example.</p> + <p>"Are all your people out of town?" Spicca asked, after a pause.</p> + <p>"Yes. I am alone."</p> + <p>"And what in the world is the attraction here? Why do you stay? I do not wish to + be indiscreet, and I was never afflicted with curiosity. But cases of mental + alienation grow more common every day, and as an old friend of your father's I cannot + overlook symptoms of madness in you. A really sane person avoids Rome in August."</p> + <p>"It strikes me that I might say the same to you," answered Orsino. "I am kept here + by business. You have not even that excuse."</p> + <p>"How do you know?" asked Spicca, sharply. "Business has two main + elements—credit and debit. The one means the absence of the other. I leave it + to your lively intelligence to decide which of the two means Rome in August, and + which means Trouville or St. Moritz."</p> + <p>"I had not thought of it in that light."</p> + <p>"No? I daresay not. I constantly think of it."</p> + <p>"There are other places, nearer than St. Moritz," suggested Orsino. "Why not go to + Sorrento?"</p> + <p>"There was such a place once—but my friends have found it out. Nevertheless, + I might go there. It is better to suffer friendship in the spirit than fever in the + body. But I have a reason for staying here just at present—a very good + one."</p> + <p>"Without indiscretion—?"</p> + <p>"No, certainly not without considerable indiscretion. Take some more wine. When + intoxication is bliss it is folly to be sober, as the proverb says. I cannot get + tipsy, but you may, and that will be almost as amusing. The main object of drinking + wine is that one person should make confidences for the other to laugh at—the + one enjoys it quite as much as the other."</p> + <p>"I would rather be the other," said Orsino with a laugh.</p> + <p>"In all cases in life it is better to be the other person," observed Spicca, + thoughtfully, though the remark lacked precision.</p> + <p>"You mean the patient and not the agent, I suppose?"</p> + <p>"No. I mean the spectator. The spectator is a well fed, indifferent personage who + laughs at the play and goes home to supper—perdition upon him and his kind! He + is the abomination of desolation in a front stall, looking on while better men cut + one another's throats. He is a fat man with a pink complexion and small eyes, and + when he has watched other people's troubles long enough, he retires to his + comfortable vault in the family chapel in the Campo Varano, which is decorated with + coloured tiles, embellished with a modern altar piece and adorned with a bust of + himself by a good sculptor. Even in death, he is still the spectator, grinning + through the window of his sanctuary at the rows of nameless graves outside. He is + happy and self-satisfied still—even in marble. It is worth living to be such a + man."</p> + <p>"It is not an exciting life," remarked Orsino.</p> + <p>"No. That is the beauty of it. Look at me. I have never succeeded in imitating + that well-to-do, thoroughly worthy villain. I began too late. Take warning, Orsino. + You are young. Grow fat and look on—then you will die happy. All the philosophy + of life is there. Farinaceous food, money and a wife. That is the recipe. Since you + have money you can purchase the gruel and the affections. Waste no time in making the + investment."</p> + <p>"I never heard you advocate marriage before. You seem to have changed your mind, + of late."</p> + <p>"Not in the least. I distinguish between being married and taking a wife, that is + all."</p> + <p>"Rather a fine distinction."</p> + <p>"The only difference between a prisoner and his gaoler is that they are on + opposite sides of the same wall. Take some more wine. We will drink to the man on the + outside."</p> + <p>"May you never be inside," said Orsino.</p> + <p>Spicca emptied his glass and looked at him, as he set it down again.</p> + <p>"May you never know what it is to have been inside," he said.</p> + <p>"You speak as though you had some experience."</p> + <p>"Yes, I have—through an acquaintance of mine."</p> + <p>"That is the most agreeable way of gaining experience."</p> + <p>"Yes," answered Spicca with a ghastly smile. "Perhaps I may tell you the story + some day. You may profit by it. It ended rather dramatically—so far as it can + be said to have ended at all. But we will not speak of it just now. Here is another + dish of poison—do you call that thing a fish, Checco? Ah—yes. I perceive + that you are right. The fact is apparent at a great distance. Take it away. We are + all mortal, Checco, but we do not like to be reminded of it so very forcibly. Give me + a tomato and some vinegar."</p> + <p>"And the birds, Signore? Do you not want them any more?"</p> + <p>"The birds—yes, I had forgotten. And another flask of wine, Checco."</p> + <p>"It is not empty yet, Signore," observed the waiter lifting the rush-covered + bottle and shaking it a little.</p> + <p>Spicca silently poured out two glasses and handed him the empty flask. He seemed + to be very thirsty. Presently he got his birds. They proved eatable, for quails are + to be had all through the summer in Italy, and he began to eat in silence. Orsino + watched him with some curiosity wondering whether the quantity of wine he drank would + not ultimately produce some effect. As yet, however, none was visible; his cadaverous + face was as pale and quiet as ever, and his sunken eyes had their usual + expression.</p> + <p>"And how does your business go on, Orsino?" he asked, after a long silence.</p> + <p>Orsino answered him willingly enough and gave him some account of his doings. He + grew somewhat enthusiastic as he compared his present busy life with his former + idleness.</p> + <p>"I like the way you did it, in spite of everybody's advice," said Spicca, kindly. + "A man who can jump through the paper ring of Roman prejudice without stumbling must + be nimble and have good legs. So nobody gave you a word of encouragement?"</p> + <p>"Only one person, at first. I think you know her—Madame d'Aranjuez. I used + to see her often just at that time."</p> + <p>"Madame d'Aranjuez?" Spicca looked up sharply, pausing with his glass in his + hand.</p> + <p>"You know her?"</p> + <p>"Very well indeed," answered the old man, before he drank. "Tell me, Orsino," he + continued, when he had finished the draught, "are you in love with that lady?"</p> + <p>Orsino was surprised by the directness of the question, but he did not show + it.</p> + <p>"Not in the least," he answered, coolly.</p> + <p>"Then why did you act as though you were?" asked Spicca looking him through and + through.</p> + <p>"Do you mean to say that you were watching me all winter?" inquired Orsino, + bending his black eyebrows rather angrily.</p> + <p>"Circumstances made it inevitable that I should know of your visits. There was a + time when you saw her every day."</p> + <p>"I do not know what the circumstances, as you call them, were," answered Orsino. + "But I do not like to be watched—even by my father's old friends."</p> + <p>"Keep your temper, Orsino," said Spicca quietly. "Quarrelling is always ridiculous + unless somebody is killed, and then it is inconvenient. If you understood the nature + of my acquaintance with Maria Consuelo—with Madame d'Aranjuez, you would see + that while not meaning to spy upon you in the least, I could not be ignorant of your + movements."</p> + <p>"Your acquaintance must be a very close one," observed Orsino, far from + pacified.</p> + <p>"So close that it has justified me in doing very odd things on her account. You + will not accuse me of taking a needless and officious interest in the affairs of + others, I think. My own are quite enough for me. It chances that they are intimately + connected with the doings of Madame d'Aranjuez, and have been so for a number of + years. The fact that I do not desire the connexion to be known does not make it + easier for me to act, when I am obliged to act at all. I did not ask an idle question + when I asked you if you loved her."</p> + <p>"I confess that I do not at all understand the situation," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"No. It is not easy to understand, unless I give you the key to it. And yet you + know more already than any one in Rome. I shall be obliged if you will not repeat + what you know."</p> + <p>"You may trust me," answered Orsino, who saw from Spicca's manner that the matter + was very serious.</p> + <p>"Thank you. I see that you are cured of the idea that I have been frivolously + spying upon you for my own amusement."</p> + <p>Orsino was silent. He thought of what had happened after he had taken leave of + Maria Consuelo. The mysterious maid who called herself Maria Consuelo's nurse, or + keeper, had perhaps spoken the truth. It was possible that Spicca was one of the + guardians responsible to an unknown person for the insane lady's safety, and that he + was consequently daily informed by the maid of the coming and going of visitors, and + of other minor events. On the other hand it seemed odd that Maria Consuelo should be + at liberty to go whithersoever she pleased. She could not reasonably be supposed to + have a guardian in every city of Europe. The more he thought of this improbability + the less he understood the truth.</p> + <p>"I suppose I cannot hope that you will tell me more," he said.</p> + <p>"I do not see why I should," answered Spicca, drinking again. "I asked you an + indiscreet question and I have given you an explanation which you are kind enough to + accept. Let us say no more about it. It is better to avoid unpleasant subjects."</p> + <p>"I should not call Madame d'Aranjuez an unpleasant subject," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"Then why did you suddenly cease to visit her?" asked Spicca.</p> + <p>"For the best of all reasons. Because she repeatedly refused to receive me." He + was less inclined to take offence now than five minutes earlier. "I see that your + information was not complete."</p> + <p>"No. I was not aware of that. She must have had a good reason for not seeing + you."</p> + <p>"Possibly."</p> + <p>"But you cannot guess what the reason was?"</p> + <p>"Yes—and no. It depends upon her character, which I do not pretend to + understand."</p> + <p>"I understand it well enough. I can guess at the fact. You made love to her, and + one fine day, when she saw that you were losing your head, she quietly told her + servant to say that she was not at home when you called. Is that it?"</p> + <p>"Possibly. You say you know her well—then you know whether she would act in + that way or not."</p> + <p>"I ought to know. I think she would. She is not like other women—she has not + the same blood."</p> + <p>"Who is she?" asked Orsino, with a sudden hope that he might learn the truth.</p> + <p>"A woman—rather better than the rest—a widow, too, the widow of a man + who never was her husband—thank God!"</p> + <p>Spicca slowly refilled and emptied his goblet for the tenth time.</p> + <p>"The rest is a secret," he added, when he had finished drinking.</p> + <p>The dark, sunken eyes gazed into Orsino's with an expression so strange and full + of a sort of inexplicable horror, as to make the young man think that the deep + potations were beginning to produce an effect upon the strong old head. Spicca sat + quite still for several minutes after he had spoken, and then leaned back in his cane + chair with a deep sigh. Orsino sighed too, in a sort of unconscious sympathy, for + even allowing for Spicca's natural melancholy the secret was evidently an unpleasant + one. Orsino tried to turn the conversation, not, however, without a hope of bringing + it back unawares to the question which interested him.</p> + <p>"And so you really mean to stay here all summer," he remarked, lighting a + cigarette and looking at the people seated at a table behind Spicca.</p> + <p>Spicca did not answer at first, and when he did his reply had nothing to do with + Orsino's interrogatory observation.</p> + <p>"We never get rid of the things we have done in our lives," he said, dreamily. + "When a man sows seed in a ploughed field some of the grains are picked out by birds, + and some never sprout. We are much more perfectly organised than the earth. The + actions we sow in our souls all take root, inevitably and fatally—and they all + grow to maturity sooner or later."</p> + <p>Orsino stared at him for a moment.</p> + <p>"You are in a philosophising mood this evening," he said.</p> + <p>"We are only logic's pawns," continued Spicca without heeding the remark. "Or, if + you like it better, we are the Devil's chess pieces in his match against God. We are + made to move each in our own way. The one by short irregular steps in every + direction, the other in long straight lines between starting point and goal—the + one stands still, like the king-piece, and never moves unless he is driven to it, the + other jumps unevenly like the knight. It makes no difference. We take a certain + number of other pieces, and then we are taken ourselves—always by the + adversary—and tossed aside out of the game. But then, it is easy to carry out + the simile, because the game itself was founded on the facts of life, by the people + who invented it."</p> + <p>"No doubt," said Orsino, who was not very much interested.</p> + <p>"Yes. You have only to give the pieces the names of men and women you know, and to + call the pawns society—you will see how very like real life chess can be. The + king and queen on each side are a married couple. Of course, the object of each queen + is to get the other king, and all her friends help her—knights, bishops, rooks + and her set of society pawns. Very like real life, is it not? Wait till you are + married."</p> + <p>Spicca smiled grimly and took more wine.</p> + <p>"There at least you have no personal experience," objected Orsino.</p> + <p>But Spicca only smiled again, and vouchsafed no answer.</p> + <p>"Is Madame d'Aranjuez coming back next winter?" asked the young man.</p> + <p>"Madame d'Aranjuez will probably come back, since she is free to consult her own + tastes," answered Spicca gravely.</p> + <p>"I hope she may be out of danger by that time," said Orsino quietly. He had + resolved upon a bolder attack than he had hitherto made.</p> + <p>"What danger is she in now?" asked Spicca quietly.</p> + <p>"Surely, you must know."</p> + <p>"I do not understand you. Please speak plainly if you are in earnest."</p> + <p>"Before she went away I called once more. When I was coming away her maid met me + in the corridor of the hotel and told me that Madame d'Aranjuez was not quite sane, + and that she, the maid, was in reality her keeper, or nurse—or whatever you + please to call her."</p> + <p>Spicca laughed harshly. No one could remember to have heard him laugh many + times.</p> + <p>"Oh—she said that, did she?" He seemed very much amused. "Yes," he added + presently, "I think Madame d'Aranjuez will be quite out of danger before + Christmas."</p> + <p>Orsino was more puzzled than ever. He was almost sure that Spicca did not look + upon the maid's assertion as serious, and in that case, if his interest in Maria + Consuelo was friendly, it was incredible that he should seem amused at what was at + least a very dangerous piece of spite on the part of a trusted servant.</p> + <p>"Then is there no truth in that woman's statement?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"Madame d'Aranjuez seemed perfectly sane when I last saw her," answered Spicca + indifferently.</p> + <p>"Then what possible interest had the maid in inventing the lie?"</p> + <p>"Ah—what interest? That is quite another matter, as you say. It may not have + been her own interest."</p> + <p>"You think that Madame d'Aranjuez had instructed her?"</p> + <p>"Not necessarily. Some one else may have suggested the idea, subject to the lady's + own consent."</p> + <p>"And she would have consented? I do not believe that."</p> + <p>"My dear Orsino, the world is full of such apparently improbable things that it is + always rash to disbelieve anything on the first hearing. It is really much less + trouble to accept all that one is told without question."</p> + <p>"Of course, if you tell me positively that she wishes to be thought + mad—"</p> + <p>"I never say anything positively, especially about a woman—and least of all + about the lady in question, who is undoubtedly eccentric."</p> + <p>Instead of being annoyed, Orsino felt his curiosity growing, and made a rash vow + to find out the truth at any price. It was inconceivable, he thought, that Spicca + should still have perfect control of his faculties, considering the extent of his + potations. The second flask was growing light, and Orsino himself had not taken more + than two or three glasses. Now a Chianti flask never holds less than two quarts. + Moreover Spicca was generally a very moderate man. He would assuredly not resist the + confusing effects of the wine much longer and he would probably become + confidential.</p> + <p>But Orsino had mistaken his man. Spicca's nerves, overwrought by some unknown + disturbance in his affairs, were in that state in which far stronger stimulants than + Tuscan wine have little or no effect upon the brain. Orsino looked at him and + wondered, as many had wondered already, what sort of life the man had led, outside + and beyond the social existence which every one could see. Few men had been dreaded + like the famous duellist, who had played with the best swordsmen in Europe as a cat + plays with a mouse. And yet he had been respected, as well as feared. There had been + that sort of fatality in his quarrels which had saved him from the imputation of + having sought them. He had never been a gambler, as reputed duellists often are. He + had never refused to stand second for another man out of personal dislike or + prejudice. No one had ever asked his help in vain, high or low, rich or poor, in a + reasonably good cause. His acts of kindness came to light accidentally after many + years. Yet most people fancied that he hated mankind, with that sort of generous + detestation which never stoops to take a mean advantage. In his duels he had always + shown the utmost consideration for his adversary and the utmost indifference to his + own interest when conditions had to be made. Above all, he had never killed a man by + accident. That is a crime which society does not forgive. But he had not failed, + either, when he had meant to kill. His speech was often bitter, but never spiteful, + and, having nothing to fear, he was a very truthful man. He was also reticent, + however, and no one could boast of knowing the story which every one agreed in saying + had so deeply influenced his life. He had often been absent from Rome for long + periods, and had been heard of as residing in more than one European capital. He had + always been supposed to be rich, but during the last three years it had become clear + to his friends that he was poor. That is all, roughly speaking, which was known of + John Nepomucene, Count Spicca, by the society in which he had spent more than half + his life.</p> + <p>Orsino, watching the pale and melancholy face, compared himself with his + companion, and wondered whether any imaginable series of events could turn him into + such a man at the same age. Yet he admired Spicca, besides respecting him. Boy-like, + he envied the great duellist his reputation, his unerring skill, his unfaltering + nerve; he even envied him the fear he inspired in those whom he did not like. He + thought less highly of his sayings now, perhaps, than when he had first been old + enough to understand them. The youthful affectation of cynicism had agreed well with + the old man's genuine bitterness, but the pride of growing manhood was inclined to + put away childish things and had not yet suffered so as to understand real suffering. + Six months had wrought a change in Orsino, and so far the change was for the better. + He had been fortunate in finding success at the first attempt, and his passing + passion for Maria Consuelo had left little trace beyond a certain wondering regret + that it had not been greater, and beyond the recollection of her sad face at their + parting and of the sobs he had overheard. Though he could only give those tears one + meaning, he realised less and less as the months passed that they had been shed for + him.</p> + <p>That Maria Consuelo should often be in his thoughts was no proof that he still + loved her in the smallest degree. There had been enough odd circumstances about their + acquaintance to rouse any ordinary man's interest, and just at present Spicca's + strange hints and half confidences had excited an almost unbearable curiosity in his + hearer. But Spicca did not seem inclined to satisfy it any further.</p> + <p>One or two points, at least, were made clear. Maria Consuelo was not insane, as + the maid had pretended. Her marriage with the deceased Aranjuez had been a marriage + only in name, if it had even amounted to that. Finally, it was evident that she stood + in some very near relation to Spicca and that neither she nor he wished the fact to + be known. To all appearance they had carefully avoided meeting during the preceding + winter, and no one in society was aware that they were even acquainted. Orsino + recalled more than one occasion when each had been mentioned in the presence of the + other. He had a good memory and he remembered that a scarcely perceptible change had + taken place in the manner or conversation of the one who heard the other's name. It + even seemed to him that at such moments Maria Consuelo had shown an infinitesimal + resentment, whereas Spicca had faintly exhibited something more like impatience. If + this were true, it argued that Spicca was more friendly to Maria Consuelo than she + was to him. Yet on this particular evening Spicca had spoken somewhat bitterly of + her—but then, Spicca was always bitter. His last remark was to the effect that + she was eccentric. After a long silence, during which Orsino hoped that his friend + would say something more, he took up the point.</p> + <p>"I wish I knew what you meant by eccentric," he said. "I had the advantage of + seeing Madame d'Aranjuez frequently, and I did not notice any eccentricity about + her."</p> + <p>"Ah—perhaps you are not observant. Or perhaps, as you say, we do not mean + the same thing."</p> + <p>"That is why I would like to hear your definition," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"The world is mad on the subject of definitions," answered Spicca. "It is more + blessed to define than to be defined. It is a pleasant thing to say to one's enemy, + 'Sir, you are a scoundrel.' But when your enemy says the same thing to you, you kill + him without hesitation or regret—which proves, I suppose, that you are not + pleased with his definition of you. You see definition, after all, is a matter of + taste. So, as our tastes might not agree, I would rather not define anything this + evening. I believe I have finished that flask. Let us take our coffee. We can define + that beforehand, for we know by daily experience how diabolically bad it is."</p> + <p>Orsino saw that Spicca meant to lead the conversation away in another + direction.</p> + <p>"May I ask you one serious question?" he inquired, leaning forward.</p> + <p>"With a little ingenuity you may even ask me a dozen, all equally serious, my dear + Orsino. But I cannot promise to answer all or any particular one. I am not + omniscient, you know."</p> + <p>"My question is this. I have no sort of right to ask it. I know that. Are you + nearly related to Madame d'Aranjuez?"</p> + <p>Spicca looked curiously at him.</p> + <p>"Would the information be of any use to you?" he asked. "Should I be doing you a + service in telling you that we are, or are not related?"</p> + <p>"Frankly, no," answered Orsino, meeting the steady glance without wavering.</p> + <p>"Then I do not see any reason whatever for telling you the truth," returned Spicca + quietly. "But I will give you a piece of general information. If harm comes to that + lady through any man whomsoever, I will certainly kill him, even if I have to be + carried upon the ground."</p> + <p>There was no mistaking the tone in which the threat was uttered. Spicca meant what + he said, though not one syllable was spoken louder than another. In his mouth the + words had a terrific force, and told Orsino more of the man's true nature than he had + learnt in years. Orsino was not easily impressed, and was certainly not timid, + morally or physically; moreover he was in the prime of youth and not less skilful + than other men in the use of weapons. But he felt at that moment that he would + infinitely rather attack a regiment of artillery single-handed than be called upon to + measure swords with the cadaverous old invalid who sat on the other side of the + table.</p> + <p>"It is not in my power to do any harm to Madame d'Aranjuez," he answered proudly + enough, "and you ought to know that if it were, it could not possibly be in my + intention. Therefore your threat is not intended for me."</p> + <p>"Very good, Orsino. Your father would have answered like that, and you mean what + you say. If I were young I think that you and I should be friends. Fortunately for + you there is a matter of forty years' difference between our ages, so that you escape + the infliction of such a nuisance as my friendship. You must find it bad enough to + have to put up with my company."</p> + <p>"Do not talk like that," answered Orsino. "The world is not all vinegar."</p> + <p>"Well, well—you will find out what the world is in time. And perhaps you + will find out many other things which you want to know. I must be going, for I have + letters to write. Checco! My bill."</p> + <p>Five minutes later they parted.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XVIII" name='CHAPTER_XVIII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Although Orsino's character was developing quickly in the new circumstances which + he had created for himself, he was not of an age to be continually on his guard + against passing impressions; still less could it be expected that he should be + hardened against them by experience, as many men are by nature. His conversation with + Spicca, and Spicca's own behaviour while it lasted, produced a decided effect upon + the current of his thoughts, and he was surprised to find himself thinking more often + and more seriously of Maria Consuelo than during the months which had succeeded her + departure from Rome. Spicca's words had acted indirectly upon his mind. Much that the + old man had said was calculated to rouse Orsino's curiosity, but Orsino was not + naturally curious and though he felt that it would be very interesting to know Maria + Consuelo's story, the chief result of the Count's half confidential utterances was to + recall the lady herself very vividly to his recollection.</p> + <p>At first his memory merely brought back the endless details of his acquaintance + with her, which had formed the central feature of the first season he had spent + without interruption in Rome and in society. He was surprised at the extreme + precision of the pictures evoked, and took pleasure in calling them up when he was + alone and unoccupied. The events themselves had not, perhaps, been all agreeable, yet + there was not one which it did not give him some pleasant sensation to remember. + There was a little sadness in some of them, and more than once the sadness was + mingled with something of humiliation. Yet even this last was bearable. Though he did + not realise it, he was quite unable to think of Maria Consuelo without feeling some + passing touch of happiness at the thought, for happiness can live with sadness when + it is the greater of the two. He had no desire to analyse these sensations. Indeed + the idea did not enter his mind that they were worth analysing. His intelligence was + better employed with his work, and his reflexions concerning Maria Consuelo chiefly + occupied his hours of rest.</p> + <p>The days passed quickly at first and then, as September came they seemed longer, + instead of shorter. He was beginning to wish that the winter would come, that he + might again see the woman of whom he was continually thinking. More than once he + thought of writing to her, for he had the address which the maid had given + him—an address in Paris which said nothing, a mere number with the name of a + street. He wondered whether she would answer him, and when he had reached the + self-satisfying conviction that she would, he at last wrote a letter, such as any + person might write to another. He told her of the weather, of the dulness of Rome, of + his hope that she would return early in the season, and of his own daily occupations. + It was a simply expressed, natural and not at all emotional epistle, not at all like + that of a man in the least degree in love with his correspondent, but Orsino felt an + odd sensation of pleasure in writing it and was surprised by a little thrill of + happiness as he posted it with his own hand.</p> + <p>He did not forget the letter when he had sent it, either, as one forgets the + uninteresting letters one is obliged to write out of civility. He hoped for an + answer. Even if she were in Paris, Maria Consuelo might not, and probably would not, + reply by return of post. And it was not probable that she would be in town at the + beginning of September. Orsino calculated the time necessary to forward the letter + from Paris to the most distant part of frequented Europe, allowed her three days for + answering and three days more for her letter to reach him. The interval elapsed, but + nothing came. Then he was irritated, and at last he became anxious. Either something + had happened to Maria Consuelo, or he had somehow unconsciously offended her by what + he had written. He had no copy of the letter and could not recall a single phrase + which could have displeased her, but he feared lest something might have crept into + it which she might misinterpret. But this idea was too absurd to be tenable for long, + and the conviction grew upon him that she must be ill or in some great trouble. He + was amazed at his own anxiety.</p> + <p>Three weeks had gone by since he had written, and yet no word of reply had reached + him. Then he sought out Spicca and asked him boldly whether anything had happened to + Maria Consuelo, explaining that he had written to her and had got no answer. Spicca + looked at him curiously for a moment.</p> + <p>"Nothing has happened to her, as far as I am aware," he said, almost immediately. + "I saw her this morning."</p> + <p>"This morning?" Orsino was surprised almost out of words.</p> + <p>"Yes. She is here, looking for an apartment in which to spend the winter."</p> + <p>"Where is she?"</p> + <p>Spicca named the hotel, adding that Orsino would probably find her at home during + the hot hours of the afternoon.</p> + <p>"Has she been here long?" asked the young man.</p> + <p>"Three days."</p> + <p>"I will go and see her at once. I may be useful to her in finding an + apartment."</p> + <p>"That would be very kind of you," observed Spicca, glancing at him rather + thoughtfully.</p> + <p>On the following afternoon, Orsino presented himself at the hotel and asked for + Madame d'Aranjuez. She received him in a room not very different from the one of + which she had had made her sitting-room during the winter. As always, one or two new + books and the mysterious silver paper cutter were the only objects of her own which + were visible. Orsino hardly noticed the fact, however, for she was already in the + room when he entered, and his eyes met hers at once.</p> + <p>He fancied that she looked less strong than formerly, but the heat was great and + might easily account for her pallor. Her eyes were deeper, and their tawny colour + seemed darker. Her hand was cold.</p> + <p>She smiled faintly as she met Orsino, but said nothing and sat down at a distance + from the windows.</p> + <p>"I only heard last night that you were in Rome," he said.</p> + <p>"And you came at once to see me. Thanks. How did you find it out?"</p> + <p>"Spicca told me. I had asked him for news of you."</p> + <p>"Why him?" inquired Maria Consuelo with some curiosity.</p> + <p>"Because I fancied he might know," answered Orsino passing lightly over the + question. He did not wish even Maria Consuelo to guess that Spicca had spoken of her + to him. "The reason why I was anxious about you was that I had written you a letter. + I wrote some weeks ago to your address in Paris and got no answer."</p> + <p>"You wrote?" Maria Consuelo seemed surprised. "I have not been in Paris. Who gave + you the address? What was it?"</p> + <p>Orsino named the street and the number.</p> + <p>"I once lived there a short time, two years ago. Who gave you the address? Not + Count Spicca?"</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>Orsino hesitated to say more. He did not like to admit that he had received the + address from Maria Consuelo's maid, and it might seem incredible that the woman + should have given the information unasked. At the same time the fact that the address + was to all intents and purposes a false one tallied with the maid's spontaneous + statement in regard to her mistress's mental alienation.</p> + <p>"Why will you not tell me?" asked Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"The answer involves a question which does not concern me. The address was + evidently intended to deceive me. The person who gave it attempted to deceive me + about a far graver matter, too. Let us say no more about it. Of course you never got + the letter?"</p> + <p>"Of course not."</p> + <p>A short silence followed which Orsino felt to be rather awkward. Maria Consuelo + looked at him suddenly.</p> + <p>"Did my maid tell you?" she asked.</p> + <p>"Yes—since you ask me. She met me in the corridor after my last visit and + thrust the address upon me."</p> + <p>"I thought so," said Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"You have suspected her before?"</p> + <p>"What was the other deception?"</p> + <p>"That is a more serious matter. The woman is your trusted servant. At least you + must have trusted her when you took her—"</p> + <p>"That does not follow. What did she try to make you believe?"</p> + <p>"It is hard to tell you. For all I know, she may have been instructed—you + may have instructed her yourself. One stumbles upon odd things in life, + sometimes."</p> + <p>"You called yourself my friend once, Don Orsino."</p> + <p>"If you will let me, I will call myself so still."</p> + <p>"Then, in the name of friendship, tell me what the woman said!" Maria Consuelo + spoke with sudden energy, touching his arm quickly with an unconscious gesture.</p> + <p>"Will you believe me?"</p> + <p>"Are you accustomed to being doubted, that you ask?"</p> + <p>"No. But this thing is very strange."</p> + <p>"Do not keep me waiting—it hurts me!"</p> + <p>"The woman stopped me as I was going away. I had never spoken to her. She knew my + name. She told me that you were—how shall I say?—mentally deranged."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo started and turned very pale.</p> + <p>"She told you that I was mad?" Her voice sank to a whisper.</p> + <p>"That is what she said."</p> + <p>Orsino watched her narrowly. She evidently believed him. Then she sank back in her + chair with a stifled cry of horror, covering her eyes with her hands.</p> + <p>"And you might have believed it!" she exclaimed. "You might really have believed + it—you!"</p> + <p>The cry came from her heart and would have shown Orsino what weight she still + attached to his opinion had he not himself been too suddenly and deeply interested in + the principal question to pay attention to details.</p> + <p>"She made the statement very clearly," he said. "What could have been her object + in the lie?"</p> + <p>"What object? Ah—if I knew that—"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo rose and paced the room, her head bent and her hands nervously + clasping and unclasping. Orsino stood by the empty fireplace, watching her.</p> + <p>"You will send the woman away of course?" he said, in a questioning tone.</p> + <p>But she shook her head and her anxiety seemed to increase.</p> + <p>"Is it possible that you will submit to such a thing from a servant?" he asked in + astonishment.</p> + <p>"I have submitted to much," she answered in a low voice.</p> + <p>"The inevitable, of course. But to keep a maid whom you can turn away at any + moment—"</p> + <p>"Yes—but can I?" She stopped and looked at him. "Oh, if I only + could—if you knew how I hate the woman—"</p> + <p>"But then—"</p> + <p>"Yes?"</p> + <p>"Do you mean to tell me that you are in some way in her power, so that you are + bound to keep her always?"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo hesitated a moment.</p> + <p>"Are you in her power?" asked Orsino a second time. He did not like the idea and + his black brows bent themselves rather angrily.</p> + <p>"No—not directly. She is imposed upon me."</p> + <p>"By circumstances?"</p> + <p>"No, again. By a person who has the power to impose much upon me—but this! + Oh this is almost too much! To be called mad!"</p> + <p>"Then do not submit to it."</p> + <p>Orsino spoke decisively, with a kind of authority which surprised himself. He was + amazed and righteously angry at the situation so suddenly revealed to him, undefined + as it was. He saw that he was touching a great trouble and his natural energy bid him + lay violent hands on it and root it out if possible.</p> + <p>For some minutes Maria Consuelo did not speak, but continued to pace the room, + evidently in great anxiety. Then she stopped before him.</p> + <p>"It is easy for you to say, 'do not submit,' when you do not understand," she + said. "If you knew what my life is, you would look at this in another way. I must + submit—I cannot do otherwise."</p> + <p>"If you would tell me something more, I might help you," answered Orsino.</p> + <p>"You?" She paused. "I believe you would, if you could," she added, + thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"You know that I would. Perhaps I can, as it is, in ignorance, if you will direct + me."</p> + <p>A sudden light gleamed in Maria Consuelo's eyes and then died away as quickly as + it had come.</p> + <p>"After all, what could you do?" she asked with a change of tone, as though she + were somehow disappointed. "What could you do that others would not do as well, if + they could, and with a better right?"</p> + <p>"Unless you will tell me, how can I know?"</p> + <p>"Yes—if I could tell you."</p> + <p>She went and sat down in her former seat and Orsino took a chair beside her. He + had expected to renew the acquaintance in a very different way, and that he should + spend half an hour with Maria Consuelo in talking about apartments, about the heat + and about the places she had visited. Instead, circumstances had made the + conversation an intimate one full of an absorbing interest to both. Orsino found that + he had forgotten much which pleased him strangely now that it was again brought + before him. He had forgotten most of all, it seemed, that an unexplained sympathy + attracted him to her, and her to him. He wondered at the strength of it, and found it + hard to understand that last meeting with her in the spring.</p> + <p>"Is there any way of helping you, without knowing your secret?" he asked in a low + voice.</p> + <p>"No. But I thank you for the wish."</p> + <p>"Are you sure there is no way? Quite sure?"</p> + <p>"Quite sure."</p> + <p>"May I say something that strikes me?"</p> + <p>"Say anything you choose."</p> + <p>"There is a plot against you. You seem to know it. Have you never thought of + plotting on your side?"</p> + <p>"I have no one to help me."</p> + <p>"You have me, if you will take my help. And you have Spicca. You might do better, + but you might do worse. Between us we might accomplish something."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo had started at Spicca's name. She seemed very nervous that day.</p> + <p>"Do you know what you are saying?" she asked after a moment's thought.</p> + <p>"Nothing that should offend you, at least."</p> + <p>"No. But you are proposing that I should ally myself with the man of all others + whom I have reason to hate."</p> + <p>"You hate Spicca?" Orsino was passing from one surprise to another.</p> + <p>"Whether I hate him or not, is another matter. I ought to."</p> + <p>"At all events he does not hate you."</p> + <p>"I know he does not. That makes it no easier for me. I could not accept his + help."</p> + <p>"All this is so mysterious that I do not know what to say," said Orsino, + thoughtfully. "The fact remains, and it is bad enough. You need help urgently. You + are in the power of a servant who tells your friends that you are insane and thrusts + false addresses upon them, for purposes which I cannot explain."</p> + <p>"Nor I either, though I may guess."</p> + <p>"It is worse and worse. You cannot even be sure of the motives of this woman, + though you know the person or persons by whom she is forced upon you. You cannot get + rid of her yourself and you will not let any one else help you."</p> + <p>"Not Count Spicca."</p> + <p>"And yet I am sure that he would do much for you. Can you not even tell me why you + hate him, or ought to hate him?"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo hesitated and looked into Orsino's eyes for a moment.</p> + <p>"Can I trust you?" she asked.</p> + <p>"Implicitly."</p> + <p>"He killed my husband."</p> + <p>Orsino uttered a low exclamation of horror. In the deep silence which followed he + heard Maria Consuelo draw her breath once or twice sharply through her closed teeth, + as though she were in great pain.</p> + <p>"I do not wish it known," she said presently, in a changed voice. "I do not know + why I told you."</p> + <p>"You can trust me."</p> + <p>"I must—since I have spoken."</p> + <p>In the surprise caused by the startling confidence, Orsino suddenly felt that his + capacity for sympathy had grown to great dimensions. If he had been a woman, the + tears would have stood in his eyes. Being what he was, he felt them in his heart. It + was clear that she had loved the dead man very dearly. In the light of this evident + fact, it was hard to explain her conduct towards Orsino during the winter and + especially at their last meeting.</p> + <p>For a long time neither spoke again. Orsino, indeed, had nothing to say at first, + for nothing he could say could reasonably be supposed to be of any use. He had + learned the existence of something like a tragedy in Maria Consuelo's life, and he + seemed to be learning the first lesson of friendship, which teaches sympathy. It was + not an occasion for making insignificant phrases expressing his regret at her loss, + and the language he needed in order to say what he meant was unfamiliar to his lips. + He was silent, therefore, but his young face was grave and thoughtful, and his eyes + sought hers from time to time as though trying to discover and forestall her wishes. + At last she glanced at him quickly, then looked down, and at last spoke to him.</p> + <p>"You will not make me regret having told you this—will you?" she asked.</p> + <p>"No. I promise you that."</p> + <p>So far as Orsino could understand the words meant very little. He was not very + communicative, as a rule, and would certainly not tell what he had heard, so that the + promise was easily given and easy to keep. If he did not break it, he did not see + that she could have any further cause for regretting her confidence in him. + Nevertheless, by way of reassuring her, he thought it best to repeat what he had said + in different words.</p> + <p>"You may be quite sure that whatever you choose to tell me is in safe keeping," he + said. "And you may be sure, too, that if it is in my power to do you a service of any + kind, you will find me ready, and more than ready, to help you."</p> + <p>"Thank you," she answered, looking earnestly at him.</p> + <p>"Whether the matter be small or great," he added, meeting her eyes.</p> + <p>Perhaps she expected to find more curiosity on his part, and fancied that he would + ask some further question. He did not understand the meaning of her look.</p> + <p>"I believe you," she said at last. "I am too much in need of a friend to doubt + you."</p> + <p>"You have found one."</p> + <p>"I do not know. I am not sure. There are other things—" she stopped suddenly + and looked away.</p> + <p>"What other things?"</p> + <p>But Maria Consuelo did not answer. Orsino knew that she was thinking of all that + had once passed between them. He wondered whether, if he led the way, she would press + him as she had done at their last meeting. If she did, he wondered what he should + say. He had been very cold then, far colder than he was now. He now felt drawn to + her, as in the first days of their acquaintance. He felt always that he was on the + point of understanding her, and yet that he was waiting, for something which should + help him to pass that point.</p> + <p>"What other things?" he asked, repeating his question. "Do you mean that there are + reasons which may prevent me from being a good friend of yours?"</p> + <p>"I am afraid there are. I do not know."</p> + <p>"I think you are mistaken, Madame. Will you name some of those reasons—or + even one?"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo did not answer at once. She glanced at him, looked down, and then + her eyes met his again.</p> + <p>"Do you think that you are the kind of man a woman chooses for her friend?" she + asked at length, with a faint smile.</p> + <p>"I have not thought of the matter—"</p> + <p>"But you should—before offering your friendship."</p> + <p>"Why? If I feel a sincere sympathy for your trouble, if I am—" he hesitated, + weighing his words—"if I am personally attached to you, why can I not help you? + I am honest, and in earnest. May I say as much as that of myself?"</p> + <p>"I believe you are."</p> + <p>"Then I cannot see that I am not the sort of man whom a woman might take for a + friend when a better is not at hand."</p> + <p>"And do you believe in friendship, Don Orsino?" asked Maria Consuelo quietly.</p> + <p>"I have heard it said that it is not wise to disbelieve anything nowadays," + answered Orsino.</p> + <p>"True—and the word 'friend' has such a pretty sound!" She laughed, for the + first time since he had entered the room.</p> + <p>"Then it is you who are the unbeliever, Madame. Is not that a sign that you need + no friend at all, and that your questions are not seriously meant?"</p> + <p>"Perhaps. Who knows?"</p> + <p>"Do you know, yourself?"</p> + <p>"No." Again she laughed a little, and then grew suddenly grave.</p> + <p>"I never knew a woman who needed a friend more urgently than you do," said Orsino. + "I do not in the least understand your position. The little you have told me makes it + clear enough that there have been and still are unusual circumstances in your life. + One thing I see. That woman whom you call your maid is forced upon you against your + will, to watch you, and is privileged to tell lies about you which may do you a great + injury. I do not ask why you are obliged to suffer her presence, but I see that you + must, and I guess that you hate it. Would it be an act of friendship to free you from + her or not?"</p> + <p>"At present it would not be an act of friendship," answered Maria Consuelo, + thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"That is very strange. Do you mean to say that you submit voluntarily—"</p> + <p>"The woman is a condition imposed upon me. I cannot tell you more."</p> + <p>"And no friend, no friendly help can change the condition, I suppose."</p> + <p>"I did not say that. But such help is beyond your power, Don Orsino," she added + turning towards him rather suddenly. "Let us not talk of this any more. Believe me, + nothing can be done. You have sometimes acted strangely with me, but I really think + you would help me if you could. Let that be the state of our acquaintance. You are + willing, and I believe that you are. Nothing more. Let that be our compact. But you + can perhaps help me in another way—a smaller way. I want a habitation of some + kind for the winter, for I am tired of camping out in hotels. You who know your own + city so well can name some person who will undertake the matter."</p> + <p>"I know the very man," said Orsino promptly.</p> + <p>"Will you write out the address for me?"</p> + <p>"It is not necessary. I mean myself."</p> + <p>"I could not let you take so much trouble," protested Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>But she accepted, nevertheless, after a little hesitation. For some time they + discussed the relative advantages of the various habitable quarters of the city, both + glad, perhaps, to find an almost indifferent subject of conversation, and both + relatively happy merely in being together. The talk made one of those restful + interludes which are so necessary, and often so hard to produce, between two people + whose thoughts run upon a strong common interest, and who find it difficult to + exchange half a dozen words without being led back to the absorbing topic.</p> + <p>What had been said had produced a decided effect upon Orsino. He had come + expecting to take up the acquaintance on a new footing, but ten minutes had not + elapsed before he had found himself as much interested as ever in Maria Consuelo's + personality, and far more interested in her life than he had ever been before. While + talking with more or less indifference about the chances of securing a suitable + apartment for the winter, Orsino listened with an odd sensation of pleasure to every + tone of his companion's voice and watched every changing expression of the striking + face. He wondered whether he were not perhaps destined to love her sincerely as he + had already loved her in a boyish, capricious fashion which would no longer be + natural to him now. But for the present he was sure that he did not love her, and + that he desired nothing but her sympathy for himself, and to feel sympathy for her. + Those were the words he used, and he did not explain them to his own intelligence in + any very definite way. He was conscious, indeed, that they meant more than formerly, + but the same was true of almost everything that came into his life, and he did not + therefore attach any especial importance to the fact. He was altogether much more in + earnest than when he had first met Maria Consuelo; he was capable of deeper feeling, + of stronger determination and of more decided action in all matters, and though he + did not say so to himself he was none the less aware of the change.</p> + <p>"Shall we make an appointment for to-morrow?" he asked, after they had been + talking some time.</p> + <p>"Yes—but there is one thing I wanted to ask you—"</p> + <p>"What is that?" inquired Orsino, seeing that she hesitated.</p> + <p>The faint colour rose in her cheeks, but she looked straight into his eyes, with a + kind of fearless expression, as though she were facing a danger.</p> + <p>"Tell me," she said, "in Rome, where everything is known and every one talks so + much, will it not be thought strange that you and I should be driving about together, + looking for a house for me? Tell me the truth."</p> + <p>"What can people say?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"Many things. Will they say them?"</p> + <p>"If they do, I can make them stop talking."</p> + <p>"That means that they will talk, does it not? Would you like that?"</p> + <p>There was a sudden change in her face, with a look of doubt and anxious + perplexity. Orsino saw it and felt that she was putting him upon his honour, and that + whatever the doubt might be it had nothing to do with her trust in him. Six months + earlier he would not have hesitated to demonstrate that her fears were + empty—but he felt that six months earlier she might not have yielded to his + reasoning. It was instinctive, but his instinct was not mistaken.</p> + <p>"I think you are right," he said slowly. "We should not do it. I will send my + architect with you."</p> + <p>There was enough regret in the tone to show that he was making a considerable + sacrifice. A little delicacy means more when it comes from a strong man, than when it + is the natural expression of an over-refined and somewhat effeminate character. And + Orsino was rapidly developing a strength of which other people were conscious. Maria + Consuelo was pleased, though she, too, was perhaps sorry to give up the projected + plan.</p> + <p>"After all," she said, thoughtlessly, "you can come and see me here, + if—"</p> + <p>She stopped and blushed again, more deeply this time; but she turned her face away + and in the half light the change of colour was hardly noticeable.</p> + <p>"You were going to say 'if you care to see me,'" said Orsino. "I am glad you did + not say it. It would not have been kind."</p> + <p>"Yes—I was going to say that," she answered quietly. "But I will not."</p> + <p>"Thank you."</p> + <p>"Why do you thank me?"</p> + <p>"For not hurting me."</p> + <p>"Do you think that I would hurt you willingly, in any way?"</p> + <p>"I would rather not think so. You did once."</p> + <p>The words slipped from his lips almost before he had time to realise what they + meant. He was thinking of the night when she had drawn up the carriage window, + leaving him standing on the pavement, and of her repeated refusals to see him + afterwards. It seemed long ago, and the hurt had not really been so sharp as he now + fancied that it must have been, judging from what he now felt. She looked at him + quickly as though wondering what he would say next.</p> + <p>"I never meant to be unkind," she said. "I have often asked myself whether you + could say as much."</p> + <p>It was Orsino's turn to change colour. He was young enough for that, and the blood + rose slowly in his dark cheeks. He thought again of their last meeting, and of what + he had heard as he shut the door after him on that day. Perhaps he would have spoken, + but Maria Consuelo was sorry for what she had said, and a little ashamed of her + weakness, as indeed she had some cause to be, and she immediately turned back to a + former point of the conversation, not too far removed from what had last been + said.</p> + <p>"You see," said she, "I was right to ask you whether people would talk. And I am + grateful to you for telling me the truth. It is a first proof of friendship—of + something better than our old relations. Will you send me your architect to-morrow, + since you are so kind as to offer his help?"</p> + <p>After arranging for the hour of meeting Orsino rose to take his leave.</p> + <p>"May I come to-morrow?" he asked. "People will not talk about that," he added with + a smile.</p> + <p>"You can ask for me. I may be out. If I am at home, I shall be glad to see + you."</p> + <p>She spoke coldly, and Orsino saw that she was looking over his shoulder. He turned + instinctively and saw that the door was open and Spicca was standing just outside, + looking in and apparently waiting for a word from Maria Consuelo before entering.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XIX" name='CHAPTER_XIX'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>As Orsino had no reason whatever for avoiding Spicca he naturally waited a moment + instead of leaving the room immediately. He looked at the old man with a new interest + as the latter came forward. He had never seen and probably would never see again a + man taking the hand of a woman whose husband he had destroyed. He stood a little back + and Spicca passed him as he met Maria Consuelo. Orsino watched the faces of both.</p> + <p>Madame d'Aranjuez put out her hand mechanically and with evident reluctance, and + Orsino guessed that but for his own presence she would not have given it. The + expression in her face changed rapidly from that which had been there when they had + been alone, hardening very quickly until it reminded Orsino of a certain mask of the + Medusa which had once made an impression upon his imagination. Her eyes were fixed + and the pupils grew small while the singular golden yellow colour of the iris flashed + disagreeably. She did not bend her head as she silently gave her hand.</p> + <p>Spicca, too, seemed momentarily changed. He was as pale and thin as ever, but his + face softened oddly; certain lines which contributed to his usually bitter and + sceptical expression disappeared, while others became visible which changed his look + completely. He bowed with more deference than he affected with other women, and + Orsino fancied that he would have held Maria Consuelo's hand a moment longer, if she + had not withdrawn it as soon as it had touched his.</p> + <p>If Orsino had not already known that Spicca often saw her, he would have been + amazed at the count's visit, considering what she had said of the man. As it was, he + wondered what power Spicca had over her to oblige her to receive him, and he wondered + in vain. The conclusion which forced itself before him was that Spicca was the person + who imposed the serving woman upon Maria Consuelo. But her behaviour towards him, on + the other hand, was not that of a person obliged by circumstances to submit to the + caprices and dictation of another. Judging by the appearance of the two, it seemed + more probable that the power was on the other side, and might be used mercilessly on + occasion.</p> + <p>"I hope I am not disturbing your plans," said Spicca, in a tone which was almost + humble, and very unlike his usual voice. "Were you going out together?"</p> + <p>He shook hands with Orsino, avoiding his glance, as the young man thought.</p> + <p>"No," answered Maria Consuelo briefly. "I was not going out."</p> + <p>"I am just going away," said Orsino by way of explanation, and he made as though + he would take his leave.</p> + <p>"Do not go yet," said Maria Consuelo. Her look made the words imperative.</p> + <p>Spicca glanced from one to the other with a sort of submissive protest, and then + all three sat down. Orsino wondered what part he was expected to play in the trio, + and wished himself away in spite of the interest he felt in the situation.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo began to talk in a careless tone which reminded him of his first + meeting with her in Gouache's studio. She told Spicca that Orsino had promised her + his architect as a guide in her search for a lodging.</p> + <p>"What sort of person is he?" inquired Spicca, evidently for the sake of making + conversation.</p> + <p>"Contini is a man of business," Orsino answered. "An odd fellow, full of talent, + and a musical genius. One would not expect very much of him at first, but he will do + all that Madame d'Aranjuez needs."</p> + <p>"Otherwise you would not have recommended him, I suppose," said Spicca.</p> + <p>"Certainly not," replied Orsino, looking at him.</p> + <p>"You must know, Madame," said Spicca, "that Don Orsino is an excellent judge of + men."</p> + <p>He emphasised the last word in a way that seemed unnecessary. Maria Consuelo had + recovered all her equanimity and laughed carelessly.</p> + <p>"How you say that!" she exclaimed. "Is it a warning?"</p> + <p>"Against what?" asked Orsino.</p> + <p>"Probably against you," she said. "Count Spicca likes to throw out vague + hints—but I will do him the credit to say that they generally mean something." + She added the last words rather scornfully.</p> + <p>An expression of pain passed over the old man's face. But he said nothing, though + it was not like him to pass by a challenge of the kind. Without in the least + understanding the reason of the sensation, Orsino felt sorry for him.</p> + <p>"Among men, Count Spicca's opinion is worth having," he said quietly.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo looked at him in some surprise. The phrase sounded like a rebuke, + and her eyes betrayed her annoyance.</p> + <p>"How delightful it is to hear one man defend another!" she laughed.</p> + <p>"I fancy Count Spicca does not stand much in need of defence," replied Orsino, + without changing his tone.</p> + <p>"He himself is the best judge of that."</p> + <p>Spicca raised his weary eyes to hers and looked at her for a moment, before he + answered.</p> + <p>"Yes," he said. "I think I am the best judge. But I am not accustomed to being + defended, least of all against you, Madame. The sensation is a new one."</p> + <p>Orsino felt himself out of place. He was more warmly attached to Spicca than he + knew, and though he was at that time not far removed from loving Maria Consuelo, her + tone in speaking to the old man, which said far more than her words, jarred upon him, + and he could not help taking his friend's part. On the other hand the ugly truth that + Spicca had caused the death of Aranjuez more than justified Maria Consuelo in her + hatred. Behind all, there was evidently some good reason why Spicca came to see her, + and there was some bond between the two which made it impossible for her to refuse + his visits. It was clear too, that though she hated him he felt some kind of strong + affection for her. In her presence he was very unlike his daily self.</p> + <p>Again Orsino moved and looked at her, as though asking her permission to go away. + But she refused it with an imperative gesture and a look of annoyance. She evidently + did not wish to be left alone with the old man. Without paying any further attention + to the latter she began to talk to Orsino. She took no trouble to conceal what she + felt and the impression grew upon Orsino that Spicca would have gone away after a + quarter of an hour, if he had not either possessed a sort of right to stay or if he + had not had some important object in view in remaining.</p> + <p>"I suppose there is nothing to do in Rome at this time of year," she said.</p> + <p>Orsino told her that there was absolutely nothing to do. Not a theatre was open, + not a friend was in town. Rome was a wilderness. Rome was an amphitheatre on a day + when there was no performance, when the lions were asleep, the gladiators drinking, + and the martyrs unoccupied. He tried to say something amusing and found it hard.</p> + <p>Spicca was very patient, but evidently determined to outstay Orsino. From time to + time he made a remark, to which Maria Consuelo paid very little attention if she took + any notice of it at all. Orsino could not make up his mind whether to stay or to go. + The latter course would evidently displease Maria Consuelo, whereas by remaining he + was clearly annoying Spicca and was perhaps causing him pain. It was a nice question, + and while trying to make conversation he weighed the arguments in his mind. Strange + to say he decided in favour of Spicca. The decision was to some extent an index of + the state of his feelings towards Madame d'Aranjuez. If he had been quite in love + with her, he would have stayed. If he had wished to make her love him, he would have + stayed also. As it was, his friendship for the old count went before other + considerations. At the same time he hoped to manage matters so as not to incur Maria + Consuelo's displeasure. He found it harder than he had expected. After he had made up + his mind, he continued to talk during three or four minutes and then made his + excuse.</p> + <p>"I must be going," he said quietly. "I have a number of things to do before night, + and I must see Contini in order to give him time to make a list of apartments for you + to see to-morrow."</p> + <p>He took his hat and rose. He was not prepared for Maria Consuelo's answer.</p> + <p>"I asked you to stay," she said, coldly and very distinctly.</p> + <p>Spicca did not allow his expression to change. Orsino stared at her.</p> + <p>"I am very sorry, Madame, but there are many reasons which oblige me to disobey + you."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo bit her lip and her eyes gleamed angrily. She glanced at Spicca as + though hoping that he would go away with Orsino. But he did not move. It was more and + more clear that he had a right to stay if he pleased. Orsino was already bowing + before her. Instead of giving her hand she rose quickly and led him towards the door. + He opened it and they stood together on the threshold.</p> + <p>"Is this the way you help me?" she asked, almost fiercely, though in a + whisper.</p> + <p>"Why do you receive him at all?" he inquired, instead of answering.</p> + <p>"Because I cannot refuse."</p> + <p>"But you might send him away?"</p> + <p>She hesitated, and looked into his eyes.</p> + <p>"Shall I?"</p> + <p>"If you wish to be alone—and if you can. It is no affair of mine."</p> + <p>She turned swiftly, leaving Orsino standing in the door and went to Spicca's side. + He had risen when she rose and was standing at the other side of the room, + watching.</p> + <p>"I have a bad headache," she said coldly. "You will forgive me if I ask you to go + with Don Orsino."</p> + <p>"A lady's invitation to leave her house, Madame, is the only one which a man + cannot refuse," said Spicca gravely.</p> + <p>He bowed and followed Orsino out of the room, closing the door behind him. The + scene had produced a very disagreeable impression upon Orsino. Had he not known the + worst part of the secret and consequently understood what good cause Maria Consuelo + had for not wishing to be alone with Spicca, he would have been utterly revolted and + for ever repelled by her brutality. No other word could express adequately her + conduct towards the count. Even knowing what he did, he wished that she had + controlled her temper better and he was more than ever sorry for Spicca. It did not + even cross his mind that the latter might have intentionally provoked Aranjuez and + killed him purposely. He felt somehow that Spicca was in a measure the injured party + and must have been in that position from the beginning, whatever the strange story + might be. As the two descended the steps together Orsino glanced at his companion's + pale, drawn features and was sure that the man was to be pitied. It was almost a + womanly instinct, far too delicate for such a hardy nature, and dependent perhaps + upon that sudden opening of his sympathies which resulted from meeting Maria + Consuelo. I think that, on the whole, in such cases, though the woman's character may + be formed by intimacy with man's, with apparent results, the impression upon the man + is momentarily deeper, as the woman's gentler instincts are in a way reflected in his + heart.</p> + <p>Spicca recovered himself quickly, however. He took out his case and offered Orsino + a cigarette.</p> + <p>"So you have renewed your acquaintance," he said quietly.</p> + <p>"Yes—under rather odd circumstances," answered Orsino. "I feel as though I + owed you an apology, Count, and yet I do not see what there is to apologise for. I + tried to go away more than once."</p> + <p>"You cannot possibly make excuses to me for Madame d'Aranjuez's peculiarities, my + friend. Besides, I admit that she has a right to treat me as she pleases. That does + not prevent me from going to see her every day."</p> + <p>"You must have strong reasons for bearing such treatment."</p> + <p>"I have," answered Spicca thoughtfully and sadly. "Very strong reasons. I will + tell you one of those which brought me to-day. I wished to see you two together."</p> + <p>Orsino stopped in his walk, after the manner of Italians, and he looked at Spicca. + He was hot tempered when provoked, and he might have resented the speech if it had + come from any other man. But he spoke quietly.</p> + <p>"Why do you wish to see us together?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Because I am foolish enough to think sometimes that you suit one another, and + might love one another."</p> + <p>Probably nothing which Spicca could have said could have surprised Orsino more + than such a plain statement. He grew suspicious at once, but Spicca's look was that + of a man in earnest.</p> + <p>"I do not think I understand you," answered Orsino. "But I think you are touching + a subject which is better left alone."</p> + <p>"I think not," returned Spicca unmoved.</p> + <p>"Then let us agree to differ," said Orsino a little more warmly.</p> + <p>"We cannot do that. I am in a position to make you agree with me, and I will. I am + responsible for that lady's happiness. I am responsible before God and man."</p> + <p>Something in the words made a deep impression upon Orsino. He had never heard + Spicca use anything approaching to solemn language before. He knew at least one part + of the meaning which showed Spicca's remorse for having killed Aranjuez, and he knew + that the old man meant what he said, and meant it from his heart.</p> + <p>"Do you understand me now?" asked Spicca, slowly inhaling the smoke of his + cigarette.</p> + <p>"Not altogether. If you desire the happiness of Madame d'Aranjuez why do you wish + us to fall in love with each other? It strikes me that—" he stopped.</p> + <p>"Because I wish you would marry her."</p> + <p>"Marry her!" Orsino had not thought of that, and his words expressed a surprise + which was not calculated to please Spicca.</p> + <p>The old man's weary eyes suddenly grew keen and fierce and Orsino could hardly + meet their look. Spicca's nervous fingers seized the young man's tough arm and closed + upon it with surprising force.</p> + <p>"I would advise you to think of that possibility before making any more visits," + he said, his weak voice suddenly clearing. "We were talking together a few weeks ago. + Do you remember what I said I would do to any man by whom harm comes to her? Yes, you + remember well enough. I know what you answered, and I daresay you meant it. But I was + in earnest, too."</p> + <p>"I think you are threatening me, Count Spicca," said Orsino, flushing slowly but + meeting the other's look with unflinching coolness.</p> + <p>"No. I am not. And I will not let you quarrel with me, either, Orsino. I have a + right to say this to you where she is concerned—a right you do not dream of. + You cannot quarrel about that."</p> + <p>Orsino did not answer at once. He saw that Spicca was very much in earnest, and + was surprised that his manner now should be less calm and collected than on the + occasion of their previous conversation, when the count had taken enough wine to turn + the heads of most men. He did not doubt in the least the statement Spicca made. It + agreed exactly with what Maria Consuelo herself had said of him. And the statement + certainly changed the face of the situation. Orsino admitted to himself that he had + never before thought of marrying Madame d'Aranjuez. He had not even taken into + consideration the consequences of loving her and of being loved by her in return. The + moment he thought of a possible marriage as the result of such a mutual attachment, + he realised the enormous difficulties which stood in the way of such a union, and his + first impulse was to give up visiting her altogether. What Spicca said was at once + reasonable and unreasonable. Maria Consuelo's husband was dead, and she doubtless + expected to marry again. Orsino had no right to stand in the way of others who might + present themselves as suitors. But it was beyond belief that Spicca should expect + Orsino to marry her himself, knowing Rome and the Romans as he did.</p> + <p>The two had been standing still in the shade. Orsino began to walk forward again + before he spoke. Something in his own reflexions shocked him. He did not like to + think that an impassable social barrier existed between Maria Consuelo and himself. + Yet, in his total ignorance of her origin and previous life the stories which had + been circulated about her recalled themselves with unpleasant distinctness. Nothing + that Spicca had said when they had dined together had made the matter any clearer, + though the assurance that the deceased Aranjuez had come to his end by Spicca's + instrumentality sufficiently contradicted the worst, if also the least credible, + point in the tales which had been repeated by the gossips early in the previous + winter. All the rest belonged entirely to the category of the unknown. Yet Spicca + spoke seriously of a possible marriage and had gone to the length of wishing that it + might be brought about. At last Orsino spoke.</p> + <p>"You say that you have a right to say what you have said," he began. "In that case + I think I have a right to ask a question which you ought to answer. You talk of my + marrying Madame d'Aranjuez. You ought to tell me whether that is possible."</p> + <p>"Possible?" cried Spicca almost angrily. "What do you mean?"</p> + <p>"I mean this. You know us all, as you know me. You know the enormous prejudices in + which we are brought up. You know perfectly well that although I am ready to laugh at + some of them, there are others at which I do not laugh. Yet you refused to tell me + who Madame d'Aranjuez was, when I asked you, the other day. I do not even know her + father's name, much less her mother's—"</p> + <p>"No," answered Spicca. "That is quite true, and I see no necessity for telling you + either. But, as you say, you have some right to ask. I will tell you this much. There + is nothing in the circumstances of her birth which could hinder her marriage into any + honourable family. Does that satisfy you?"</p> + <p>Orsino saw that whether he were satisfied or not he was to get no further + information for the present. He might believe Spicca's statement or not, as he + pleased, but he knew that whatever the peculiarities of the melancholy old duellist's + character might be, he never took the trouble to invent a falsehood and was as ready + as ever to support his words. On this occasion no one could have doubted him, for + there was an unusual ring of sincere feeling in what he said. Orsino could not help + wondering what the tie between him and Madame d'Aranjuez could be, for it evidently + had the power to make Spicca submit without complaint to something worse than + ordinary unkindness and to make him defend on all occasions the name and character of + the woman who treated him so harshly. It must be a very close bond, Orsino thought. + Spicca acted very much like a man who loves very sincerely and quite hopelessly. + There was something very sad in the idea that he perhaps loved Maria Consuelo, at his + age, broken down as he was, and old before his time. The contrast between them was so + great that it must have been grotesque if it had not been pathetic.</p> + <p>Little more passed between the two men on that day, before they separated. To + Spicca, Orsino seemed indifferent, and the older man's reticence after his sudden + outburst did not tend to prolong the meeting.</p> + <p>Orsino went in search of Contini and explained what was needed of him. He was to + make a brief list of desirable apartments to let and was to accompany Madame + d'Aranjuez on the following morning in order to see them.</p> + <p>Contini was delighted and set out about the work at once. Perhaps he secretly + hoped that the lady might be induced to take a part of one of the new houses, but the + idea had nothing to do with his satisfaction. He was to spend several hours in the + sole society of a lady, of a genuine lady who was, moreover, young and beautiful. He + read the little morning paper too assiduously not to have noticed the name and + pondered over the descriptions of Madame d'Aranjuez on the many occasions when she + had been mentioned by the reporters during the previous year. He was too young and + too thoroughly Italian not to appreciate the good fortune which now fell into his + way, and he promised himself a morning of uninterrupted enjoyment. He wondered + whether the lady could be induced, by excessive fatigue and thirst to accept a water + ice at Nazzari's, and he planned his list of apartments in such a way as to bring her + to the neighbourhood of the Piazza di Spagna at an hour when the proposition, might + seem most agreeable and natural.</p> + <p>Orsino stayed in the office during the hot September morning, busying himself with + the endless details of which he was now master, and thinking from time to time of + Maria Consuelo. He intended to go and see her in the afternoon, and he, like Contini, + planned what he should do and say. But his plans were all unsatisfactory, and once he + found himself staring at the blank wall opposite his table in a state of idle + abstraction long unfamiliar to him.</p> + <p>Soon after twelve o'clock, Contini came back, hot and radiant. Maria Consuelo had + refused the water ice, but the charm of her manner had repaid the architect for the + disappointment. Orsino asked whether she had decided upon any dwelling.</p> + <p>"She has taken the apartment in the Palazzo Barberini," answered Contini. "I + suppose she will bring her family in the autumn."</p> + <p>"Her family? She has none. She is alone."</p> + <p>"Alone in that place! How rich she must be!" Contini found the remains of a cigar + somewhere and lighted it thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"I do not know whether she is rich or not," said Orsino. "I never thought about + it."</p> + <p>He began to work at his books again, while Contini sat down and fanned himself + with a bundle of papers.</p> + <p>"She admires you very much, Don Orsino," said the latter, after a pause. Orsino + looked up sharply.</p> + <p>"What do you mean by that?" he asked.</p> + <p>"I mean that she talked of nothing but you, and in the most flattering way."</p> + <p>In the oddly close intimacy which had grown up between the two men it did not seem + strange that Orsino should smile at speeches which he would not have liked if they + had come from any one but the poor architect.</p> + <p>"What did she say?" he asked with idle curiosity.</p> + <p>"She said it was wonderful to think what you had done. That of all the Roman + princes you were the only one who had energy and character enough to throw over the + old prejudices and take an occupation. That it was all the more creditable because + you had done it from moral reasons and not out of necessity or love of money. And she + said a great many other things of the same kind."</p> + <p>"Oh!" ejaculated Orsino, looking at the wall opposite.</p> + <p>"It is a pity she is a widow," observed Contini.</p> + <p>"Why?"</p> + <p>"She would make such a beautiful princess."</p> + <p>"You must be mad, Contini!" exclaimed Orsino, half-pleased and half-irritated. "Do + not talk of such follies."</p> + <p>"All well! Forgive me," answered the architect a little humbly. "I am not you, you + know, and my head is not yours—nor my name—nor my heart either."</p> + <p>Contini sighed, puffed at his cigar and took up some papers. He was already a + little in love with Maria Consuelo, and the idea that any man might marry her if he + pleased, but would not, was incomprehensible to him.</p> + <p>The day wore on. Orsino finished his work as thoroughly as though he had been a + paid clerk, put everything in order and went away. Late in the afternoon he went to + see Maria Consuelo. He knew that she would usually be already out at that hour, and + he fancied that he was leaving something to chance in the matter of finding her, + though an unacknowledged instinct told him that she would stay at home after the + fatigue of the morning.</p> + <p>"We shall not be interrupted by Count Spicca to-day," she said, as he sat down + beside her.</p> + <p>In spite of what he knew, the hard tone of her voice roused again in Orsino that + feeling of pity for the old man which he had felt on the previous day.</p> + <p>"Does it not seem to you," he asked, "that if you receive him at all, you might at + least conceal something of your hatred for him?"</p> + <p>"Why should I? Have you forgotten what I told you yesterday?"</p> + <p>"It would be hard to forget that, though you told me no details. But it is not + easy to imagine how you can see him at all if he killed your husband deliberately in + a duel."</p> + <p>"It is impossible to put the case more plainly!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"Do I offend you?"</p> + <p>"No. Not exactly."</p> + <p>"Forgive me, if I do. If Spicca, as I suppose, was the unwilling cause of your + great loss, he is much to be pitied. I am not sure that he does not deserve almost as + much pity as you do."</p> + <p>"How can you say that—even if the rest were true?"</p> + <p>"Think of what he must suffer. He is devotedly attached to you."</p> + <p>"I know he is. You have told me that before, and I have given you the same answer. + I want neither his attachment nor his devotion."</p> + <p>"Then refuse to see him."</p> + <p>"I cannot."</p> + <p>"We come back to the same point again," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"We always shall, if you talk about this. There is no other issue. Things are what + they are and I cannot change them."</p> + <p>"Do you know," said Orsino, "that all this mystery is a very serious hindrance to + friendship?"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo was silent for a moment.</p> + <p>"Is it?" she asked presently. "Have you always thought so?"</p> + <p>The question was a hard one to answer.</p> + <p>"You have always seemed mysterious to me," answered Orsino. "Perhaps that is a + great attraction. But instead of learning the truth about you, I am finding out that + there are more and more secrets in your life which I must not know."</p> + <p>"Why should you know them?"</p> + <p>"Because—" Orsino checked himself, almost with a start.</p> + <p>He was annoyed at the words which had been so near his lips, for he had been on + the point of saying "because I love you"—and he was intimately convinced that + he did not love her. He could not in the least understand why the phrase was so ready + to be spoken. Could it be, he asked himself, that Maria Consuelo was trying to make + him say the words, and that her will, with her question, acted directly on his mind? + He scouted the thought as soon as it presented itself, not only for its absurdity, + but because it shocked some inner sensibility.</p> + <p>"What were you going to say?" asked Madame d'Aranjuez almost carelessly.</p> + <p>"Something that is best not said," he answered.</p> + <p>"Then I am glad you did not say it."</p> + <p>She spoke quietly and unaffectedly. It needed little divination on her part to + guess what the words might have been. Even if she wished them spoken, she would not + have them spoken too lightly, for she had heard his love speeches before, when they + had meant very little.</p> + <p>Orsino suddenly turned the subject, as though he felt unsure of himself. He asked + her about the result of her search, in the morning. She answered that she had + determined to take the apartment in the Palazzo Barberini.</p> + <p>"I believe it is a very large place," observed Orsino, indifferently.</p> + <p>"Yes," she answered in the same tone. "I mean to receive this winter. But it will + be a tiresome affair to furnish such a wilderness."</p> + <p>"I suppose you mean to establish yourself in Rome for several years." His face + expressed a satisfaction of which he was hardly conscious himself. Maria Consuelo + noticed it.</p> + <p>"You seem pleased," she said.</p> + <p>"How could I possibly not be?" he asked.</p> + <p>Then he was silent. All his own words seemed to him to mean too much or too + little. He wished she would choose some subject of conversation and talk that he + might listen. But she also was unusually silent.</p> + <p>He cut his visit short, very suddenly, and left her, saying that he hoped to find + her at home as a general rule at that hour, quite forgetting that she would naturally + be always out at the cool time towards evening.</p> + <p>He walked slowly homewards in the dusk, and did not remember to go to his solitary + dinner until nearly nine o'clock. He was not pleased with himself, but he was + involuntarily pleased by something he felt and would not have been insensible to if + he had been given the choice. His old interest in Maria Consuelo was reviving, and + yet was turning into something very different from what it had been.</p> + <p>He now boldly denied to himself that he was in love and forced himself to + speculate concerning the possibilities of friendship. In his young system, it was + absurd to suppose that a man could fall in love a second time with the same woman. He + scoffed at himself, at the idea and at his own folly, having all the time a + consciousness amounting to certainty, of something very real and serious, by no means + to be laughed at, overlooked nor despised.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XX" name='CHAPTER_XX'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>It was to be foreseen that Orsino and Maria Consuelo would see each other more + often and more intimately now than ever before. Apart from the strong mutual + attraction which drew them nearer and nearer together, there were many new + circumstances which rendered Orsino's help almost indispensable to his friend. The + details of her installation in the apartment she had chosen were many, there was much + to be thought of and there were enormous numbers of things to be bought, almost each + needing judgment and discrimination in the choice. Had the two needed reasonable + excuses for meeting very often they had them ready to their hand. But neither of them + were under any illusion, and neither cared to affect that peculiar form of + self-forgiveness which finds good reasons always for doing what is always pleasant. + Orsino, indeed, never pressed his services and was careful not to be seen too often + in public with Maria Consuelo by the few acquaintances who were in town. Nor did + Madame d'Aranjuez actually ask his help at every turn, any more than she made any + difficulty about accepting it. There was a tacit understanding between them which did + away with all necessity for inventing excuses on the one hand, or for the affectation + of fearing to inconvenience Orsino on the other. During some time, however, the + subjects which both knew to be dangerous were avoided, with an unspoken mutual + consent for which Maria Consuelo was more grateful than for all the trouble Orsino + was giving himself on her account. She fancied, perhaps, that he had at last accepted + the situation, and his society gave her too much happiness to allow of her asking + whether his discretion would or could last long.</p> + <p>It was an anomalous relation which bound them together, as is often the case at + some period during the development of a passion, and most often when the absence of + obstacles makes the growth of affection slow and regular. It was a period during + which a new kind of intimacy began to exist, as far removed from the half-serious, + half-jesting intercourse of earlier days as it was from the ultimate happiness to + which all those who love look forward with equal trust, although few ever come near + it and fewer still can ever reach it quite. It was outwardly a sort of frank + comradeship which took a vast deal for granted on both sides for the mere sake of + escaping analysis, a condition in which each understood all that the other said, + while neither quite knew what was in the other's heart, a state in which both were + pleased to dwell for a time, as though preferring to prolong a sure if imperfect + happiness rather than risk one moment of it for the hope of winning a life-long joy. + It was a time during which mere friendship reached an artificially perfect beauty, + like a summer fruit grown under glass in winter, which in thoroughly unnatural + conditions attains a development almost impossible even where unhelped nature is most + kind. Both knew, perhaps, that it could not last, but neither wished it checked, and + neither liked to think of the moment when it must either begin to wither by degrees, + or be suddenly absorbed into a greater and more dangerous growth.</p> + <p>At that time they were able to talk fluently upon the nature of the human heart + and the durability of great affections. They propounded the problems of the world and + discussed them between the selection of a carpet and the purchase of a table. They + were ready at any moment to turn from the deepest conversation to the consideration + of the merest detail, conscious that they could instantly take up the thread of their + talk. They could separate the major proposition from the minor, and the deduction + from both, by a lively argument concerning the durability of a stuff or the fitness + of a piece of furniture, and they came back each time with renewed and refreshed + interest to the consideration of matters little less grave than the resurrection of + the dead and the life of the world to come. That their conclusions were not always + logical nor even very sensible has little to do with the matter. On the contrary, the + discovery of a flaw in their own reasoning was itself a reason for opening the + question again at their next meeting.</p> + <p>At first their conversation was of general things, including the desirability of + glory for its own sake, the immortality of the soul and the principles of + architecture. Orsino was often amazed to find himself talking, and, as he fancied, + talking well, upon subjects of which he had hitherto supposed with some justice that + he knew nothing. By and by they fell upon literature and dissected the modern novel + with the keen zest of young people who seek to learn the future secrets of their own + lives from vivid descriptions of the lives of others. Their knowledge of the modern + novel was not so limited as their acquaintance with many other things less amusing, + if more profitable, and they worked the vein with lively energy and mutual + satisfaction.</p> + <p>Then, as always, came the important move. They began to talk of love. The interest + ceased to be objective or in any way vicarious and was transferred directly to + themselves.</p> + <p>These steps are not, I think, to be ever thought of as stages in the development + of character in man or woman. They are phases in the intercourse of man and woman. + Clever people know them well and know how to produce them at will. The end may or may + not be love, but an end of some sort is inevitable. According to the persons + concerned, according to circumstances, according to the amount of available time, the + progression from general subjects to the discussion of love, with self-application of + the conclusions, more or less sincere, may occupy an hour, a month or a year. Love is + the one subject which ultimately attracts those not too old to talk about it, and + those who consider that they have reached such an age are few.</p> + <p>In the case of Orsino and Maria Consuelo, neither of the two was making any effort + to lead up to a certain definite result, for both felt a real dread of reaching that + point which is ever afterwards remembered as the last moment of hardly sustained + friendship and the first of something stronger and too often less happy. Orsino was + inexperienced, but Maria Consuelo was quite conscious of the tendency in a fixed + direction. Whether she had made up her mind, or not, she tried as skilfully as she + could to retard the movement, for she was very happy in the present and probably + feared the first stirring of her own ardently passionate nature.</p> + <p>As for Orsino, indeed, his inexperience was relative. He was anxious to believe + that he was only her friend, and pretended to his own conscience that he could not + explain the frequency with which the words "I love you" presented themselves. The + desire to speak them was neither a permanent impulse of which he was always conscious + nor a sudden strong emotion like a temptation, giving warning of itself by a few + heart-beats before it reached its strength. The words came to his lips so naturally + and unexpectedly that he often wondered how he saved himself from pronouncing them. + It was impossible for him to foresee when they would crave utterance. At last he + began to fancy that they rang in his mind without a reason and without a wish on his + part to speak them, as a perfectly indifferent tune will ring in the ear for days so + that one cannot get rid of it.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo had not intended to spend September and October altogether in Rome. + She had supposed that it would be enough to choose her apartment and give orders to + some person about the furnishing of it to her taste, and that after that she might go + to the seaside until the heat should be over, coming up to the city from time to time + as occasion required. But she seemed to have changed her mind. She did not even + suggest the possibility of going away.</p> + <p>She generally saw Orsino in the afternoon. He found no difficulty in making time + to see her, whenever he could be useful, but his own business naturally occupied all + the earlier part of the day. As a rule, therefore, he called between half-past four + and five, and so soon as it was cool enough they went together to the Palazzo + Barberini to see what progress the upholsterers were making and to consider matters + of taste. The great half-furnished rooms with the big windows overlooking the little + garden before the palace were pleasant to sit in and wander in during the hot + September afternoons. The pair were not often quite alone, even for a quarter of an + hour, the place being full of workmen who came and went, passed and repassed, as + their occupations required, often asking for orders and probably needing more + supervision than Maria Consuelo bestowed upon them.</p> + <p>On a certain evening late in September the two were together in the large + drawing-room. Maria Consuelo was tired and was leaning back in a deep seat, her hands + folded upon her knee, watching Orsino as he slowly paced the carpet, crossing and + recrossing in his short walk, his face constantly turned towards her. It was + excessively hot. The air was sultry with thunder, and though it was past five o'clock + the windows were still closely shut to keep out the heat. A clear, soft light filled + the room, not reflected from a burning pavement, but from grass and plashing + water.</p> + <p>They had been talking of a chimneypiece which Maria Consuelo wished to have placed + in the hall. The style of what she wanted suggested the sixteenth century, Henry + Second of France, Diana of Poitiers and the durability of the affections. The + transition from fireplaces to true love had been accomplished with comparative ease, + the result of daily practice and experience. It is worth noting, for the benefit of + the young, that furniture is an excellent subject for conversation for that very + reason, nothing being simpler than to go in three minutes from a table to an epoch, + from an epoch to an historical person and from that person to his or her love story. + A young man would do well to associate the life of some famous lover or celebrated + and unhappy beauty with each style of woodwork and upholstery. It is always + convenient. But if he has not the necessary preliminary knowledge he may resort to a + stratagem.</p> + <p>"What a comfortable chair!" says he, as he deposits his hat on the floor and sits + down.</p> + <p>"Do you like comfortable chairs?"</p> + <p>"Of course. Fancy what life was in the days of stiff wooden seats, when you had to + carry a cushion about with you. You know that sort of thing—twelfth century, + Francesca da Rimini and all that."</p> + <p>"Poor Francesca!"</p> + <p>If she does not say "Poor Francesca!" as she probably will, you can say it + yourself, very feelingly and in a different tone, after a short pause. The one kiss + which cost two lives makes the story particularly useful. And then the ice is broken. + If Paolo and Francesca had not been murdered, would they have loved each other for + ever? As nobody knows what they would have done, you can assert that they would have + been faithful or not, according to your taste, humour or personal intentions. Then + you can talk about the husband, whose very hasty conduct contributed so materially to + the shortness of the story. If you wish to be thought jealous, you say he was quite + right; if you desire to seem generous, you say with equal conviction that he was + quite wrong. And so forth. Get to generalities as soon as possible in order to apply + them to your own case.</p> + <p>Orsino and Maria Consuelo were the guileless victims of furniture, neither of them + being acquainted with the method just set forth for the instruction of the innocent. + They fell into their own trap and wondered how they had got from mantelpieces to + hearts in such an incredibly short time.</p> + <p>"It is quite possible to love twice," Orsino was saying.</p> + <p>"That depends upon what you mean by love," answered Maria Consuelo, watching him + with half-closed eyes.</p> + <p>Orsino laughed.</p> + <p>"What I mean by love? I suppose I mean very much what other people mean by + it—or a little more," he added, and the slight change in his voice pleased + her.</p> + <p>"Do you think that any two understand the same thing when they speak of love?" she + asked.</p> + <p>"We two might," he answered, resuming his indifferent tone. "After all, we have + talked so much together during the last month that we ought to understand each + other."</p> + <p>"Yes," said Maria Consuelo. "And I think we do," she added thoughtfully.</p> + <p>"Then why should we think differently about the same thing? But I am not going to + try and define love. It is not easily defined, and I am not clever enough." He + laughed again. "There are many illnesses which I cannot define—but I know that + one may have them twice."</p> + <p>"There are others which one can only have once—dangerous ones, too."</p> + <p>"I know it. But that has nothing to do with the argument."</p> + <p>"I think it has—if this is an argument at all."</p> + <p>"No. Love is not enough like an illness—it is quite the contrary. It is a + recovery from an unnatural state—that of not loving. One may fall into that + state and recover from it more than once."</p> + <p>"What a sophism!"</p> + <p>"Why do you say that? Do you think that not to love is the normal condition of + mankind?"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo was silent, still watching him.</p> + <p>"You have nothing to say," he continued, stopping and standing before her. "There + is nothing to be said. A man or woman who does not love is in an abnormal state. When + he or she falls in love it is a recovery. One may recover so long as the heart has + enough vitality. Admit it—for you must. It proves that any properly constituted + person may love twice, at least."</p> + <p>"There is an idea of faithlessness in it, nevertheless," said Maria Consuelo, + thoughtfully. "Or if it is not faithless, it is fickle. It is not the same to oneself + to love twice. One respects oneself less."</p> + <p>"I cannot believe that."</p> + <p>"We all ought to believe it. Take a case as an instance. A woman loves a man with + all her heart, to the point of sacrificing very much for him. He loves her in the + same way. In spite of the strongest opposition, they agree to be married. On the very + day of the marriage he is taken from her—for ever—loving her as he has + always loved her, and as he would always have loved her had he lived. What would such + a woman feel, if she found herself forgetting such a love as that after two or three + years, for another man? Do you think she would respect herself more or less? Do you + think she would have the right to call herself a faithful woman?"</p> + <p>Orsino was silent for a moment, seeing that she meant herself by the example. She, + indeed, had only told him that her husband had been killed, but Spicca had once said + of her that she had been married to a man who had never been her husband.</p> + <p>"A memory is one thing—real life is quite another," said Orsino at last, + resuming his walk.</p> + <p>"And to be faithful cannot possibly mean to be faithless," answered Maria Consuelo + in a low voice.</p> + <p>She rose and went to one of the windows. She must have wished to hide her face, + for the outer blinds and the glass casement were both shut and she could see nothing + but the green light that struck the painted wood. Orsino went to her side.</p> + <p>"Shall I open the window?" he asked in a constrained voice.</p> + <p>"No—not yet. I thought I could see out."</p> + <p>Still she stood where she was, her face almost touching the pane, one small white + hand resting upon the glass, the fingers moving restlessly.</p> + <p>"You meant yourself, just now," said Orsino softly.</p> + <p>She neither spoke nor moved, but her face grew pale. Then he fancied that there + was a hardly perceptible movement of her head, the merest shade of an inclination. He + leaned a little towards her, resting against the marble sill of the window.</p> + <p>"And you meant something more—" he began to say. Then he stopped short.</p> + <p>His heart was beating hard and the hot blood throbbed in his temples, his lips + closed tightly and his breathing was audible.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo turned her head, glanced at him quickly and instantly looked back + at the smooth glass before her and at the green light on the shutters without. He was + scarcely conscious that she had moved. In love, as in a storm at sea, matters grow + very grave in a few moments.</p> + <p>"You meant that you might still—" Again he stopped. The words would not + come.</p> + <p>He fancied that she would not speak. She could not, any more than she could have + left his side at that moment. The air was very sultry even in the cool, closed room. + The green light on the shutters darkened suddenly. Then a far distant peal of thunder + rolled its echoes slowly over the city. Still neither moved from the window.</p> + <p>"If you could—" Orsino's voice was low and soft, but there was something + strangely overwrought in the nervous quality of it. It was not hesitation any longer + that made him stop.</p> + <p>"Could you love me?" he asked. He thought he spoke aloud. When he had spoken, he + knew that he had whispered the words.</p> + <p>His face was colourless. He heard a short, sharp breath, drawn like a gasp. The + small white hand fell from the window and gripped his own with sudden, violent + strength. Neither spoke. Another peal of thunder, nearer and louder, shook the air. + Then Orsino heard the quick-drawn breath again, and the white hand went nervously to + the fastening of the window. Orsino opened the casement and thrust back the blinds. + There was a vivid flash, more thunder, and a gust of stifling wind. Maria Consuelo + leaned far out, looking up, and a few great drops of rain, began to fall.</p> + <p>The storm burst and the cold rain poured down furiously, wetting the two white + faces at the window. Maria Consuelo drew back a little, and Orsino leaned against the + open casement, watching her. It was as though the single pressure of their hands had + crushed out the power of speech for a time.</p> + <p>For weeks they had talked daily together during many hours. They could not foresee + that at the great moment there would be nothing left for them to say. The rain fell + in torrents and the gusty wind rose and buffeted the face of the great palace with + roaring strength, to sink very suddenly an instant later in the steadily rushing + noise of the water, springing up again without warning, rising and falling, falling + and rising, like a great sobbing breath. The wind and the rain seemed to be speaking + for the two who listened to it.</p> + <p>Orsino watched Maria Consuelo's face, not scrutinising it, nor realising very much + whether it were beautiful or not, nor trying to read the thoughts that were half + expressed in it—not thinking at all, indeed, but only loving it wholly and in + every part for the sake of the woman herself, as he had never dreamed of loving any + one or anything.</p> + <p>At last Maria Consuelo turned very slowly and looked into his eyes. The passionate + sadness faded out of the features, the faint colour rose again, the full lips + relaxed, the smile that came was full of a happiness that seemed almost divine.</p> + <p>"I cannot help it," she said.</p> + <p>"Can I?"</p> + <p>"Truly?"</p> + <p>Her hand was lying on the marble ledge. Orsino laid his own upon it, and both + trembled a little. She understood more than any word could have told her.</p> + <p>"For how long?" she asked.</p> + <p>"For all our lives now, and for all our life hereafter."</p> + <p>He raised her hand to his lips, bending his head, and then he drew her from the + window, and they walked slowly up and down the great room.</p> + <p>"It is very strange," she said presently, in a low voice.</p> + <p>"That I should love you?"</p> + <p>"Yes. Where were we an hour ago? What is become of that old time—that was an + hour ago?"</p> + <p>"I have forgotten, dear—that was in the other life."</p> + <p>"The other life! Yes—how unhappy I was—there, by that window, a + hundred years ago!"</p> + <p>She laughed softly, and Orsino smiled as he looked down at her.</p> + <p>"Are you happy now?"</p> + <p>"Do not ask me—how could I tell you?"</p> + <p>"Say it to yourself, love—I shall see it in your dear face."</p> + <p>"Am I not saying it?"</p> + <p>Then they were silent again, walking side by side, their arms locked and pressing + one another.</p> + <p>It began to dawn upon Orsino that a great change had come into his life, and he + thought of the consequences of what he was doing. He had not said that he was happy, + but in the first moment he had felt it more than she. The future, however, would not + be like the present, and could not be a perpetual continuation of it. Orsino was not + at all of a romantic disposition, and the practical side of things was always sure to + present itself to his mind very early in any affair. It was a part of his nature and + by no means hindered him from feeling deeply and loving sincerely. But it shortened + his moments of happiness.</p> + <p>"Do you know what this means to you and me?" he asked, after a time.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo started very slightly and looked up at him.</p> + <p>"Let us think of to-morrow—to-morrow," she said. Her voice trembled a + little.</p> + <p>"Is it so hard to think of?" asked Orsino, fearing lest he had displeased her.</p> + <p>"Very hard," she answered, in a low voice.</p> + <p>"Not for me. Why should it be? If anything can make to-day more complete, it is to + think that to-morrow will be more perfect, and the next day still more, and so on, + each day better than the one before it."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo shook her head.</p> + <p>"Do not speak of it," she said.</p> + <p>"Will you not love me to-morrow?" Orsino asked. The light in his face told how + little earnestly he asked the question, but she turned upon him quickly.</p> + <p>"Do you doubt yourself, that you should doubt me?" There was a ring of terror in + the words that startled him as he heard them.</p> + <p>"Beloved—no—how can you think I meant it?"</p> + <p>"Then do not say it." She shivered a little, and bent down her head.</p> + <p>"No—I will not. But—dear—do you know where we are?"</p> + <p>"Where we are?" she repeated, not understanding.</p> + <p>"Yes—where we are. This was to have been your home this year."</p> + <p>"Was to have been?" A frightened look came into her face.</p> + <p>"It will not be, now. Your home is not in this house."</p> + <p>Again she shook her head, turning her face away.</p> + <p>"It must be," she said.</p> + <p>Orsino was surprised beyond expression by the answer.</p> + <p>"Either you do not know what you are saying, or you do not mean it, dear," he + said. "Or else you will not understand me."</p> + <p>"I understand you too well."</p> + <p>Orsino made her stop and took both her hands, looking down into her eyes.</p> + <p>"You will marry me," he said.</p> + <p>"I cannot marry you," she answered.</p> + <p>Her face grew even paler than it had been when they had stood at the window, and + so full of pain and sadness that it hurt Orsino to look at it. But the words she + spoke, in her clear, distinct tones, struck him like a blow unawares. He knew that + she loved him, for her love was in every look and gesture, without attempt at + concealment. He believed her to be a good woman. He was certain that her husband was + dead. He could not understand, and he grew suddenly angry. An older man would have + done worse, or a man less in earnest.</p> + <p>"You must have a reason to give me—and a good one," he said gravely.</p> + <p>"I have."</p> + <p>She turned slowly away and began to walk alone. He followed her.</p> + <p>"You must tell it," he said.</p> + <p>"Tell it? Yes, I will tell it to you. It is a solemn promise before God, given to + a man who died in my arms—to my husband. Would you have me break such a + vow?"</p> + <p>"Yes." Orsino drew a long breath. The objection seemed insignificant enough + compared with the pain it had cost him before it had been explained.</p> + <p>"Such promises are not binding," he continued, after a moment's pause. "Such a + promise is made hastily, rashly, without a thought of the consequences. You have no + right to keep it."</p> + <p>"No right? Orsino, what are you saying! Is not an oath an oath, however it is + taken? Is not a vow made ten times more sacred when the one for whom it was taken is + gone? Is there any difference between my promise and that made before the altar by a + woman who gives up the world? Should I be any better, if I broke mine, than the nun + who broke hers?"</p> + <p>"You cannot be in earnest?" exclaimed Orsino in a low voice.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo did not answer. She went towards the window and looked at the + splashing rain. Orsino stood where he was, watching her. Suddenly she came back and + stood before him.</p> + <p>"We must undo this," she said.</p> + <p>"What do you mean?" He understood well enough.</p> + <p>"You know. We must not love each other. We must undo to-day and forget it."</p> + <p>"If you can talk so lightly of forgetting, you have little to remember," answered + Orsino almost roughly.</p> + <p>"You have no right to say that."</p> + <p>"I have the right of a man who loves you."</p> + <p>"The right to be unjust?"</p> + <p>"I am not unjust." His tone softened again. "I know what it means, to say that I + love you—it is my life, this love. I have known it a long time. It has been on + my lips to say it for weeks, and since it has been said, it cannot be unsaid. A + moment ago you told me not to doubt you. I do not. And now you say that we must not + love each other, as though we had a choice to make—and why? Because you once + made a rash promise—"</p> + <p>"Hush!" interrupted Maria Consuelo. "You must not—"</p> + <p>"I must and will. You made a promise, as though you had a right at such a moment + to dispose of all your life—I do not speak of mine—as though you could + know what the world held for you, and could renounce it all beforehand. I tell you + you had no right to make such an oath, and a vow taken without the right to take it + is no vow at all—"</p> + <p>"It is—it is! I cannot break it!"</p> + <p>"If you love me you will. But you say we are to forget. Forget! It is so easy to + say. How shall we do it?"</p> + <p>"I will go away—"</p> + <p>"If you have the heart to go away, then go. But I will follow you. The world is + very small, they say—it will not be hard for me to find you, wherever you + are."</p> + <p>"If I beg you—if I ask it as the only kindness, the only act of friendship, + the only proof of your love—you will not come—you will not do + that—"</p> + <p>"I will, if it costs your soul and mine."</p> + <p>"Orsino! You do not mean it—you see how unhappy I am, how I am trying to do + right, how hard it is!"</p> + <p>"I see that you are trying to ruin both our lives. I will not let you. Besides, + you do not mean it."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo looked into his eyes and her own grew deep and dark. Then as though + she felt herself yielding, she turned away and sat down in a chair that stood apart + from the rest. Orsino followed her, and tried to take her hand, bending down to meet + her downcast glance.</p> + <p>"You do not mean it, Consuelo," he said earnestly. "You do not mean one hundredth + part of what you say."</p> + <p>She drew her fingers from his, and turned her head sideways against the back of + the chair so that she could not see him. He still bent over her, whispering into her + ear.</p> + <p>"You cannot go," he said. "You will not try to forget—for neither you nor I + can—nor ought, cost what it might. You will not destroy what is so much to + us—you would not, if you could. Look at me, love—do not turn away. Let me + see it all in your eyes, all the truth of it and of every word I say."</p> + <p>Still she turned her face from him. But she breathed quickly with parted lips and + the colour rose slowly in her pale cheeks.</p> + <p>"It must be sweet to be loved as I love you, dear," he said, bending still lower + and closer to her. "It must be some happiness to know that you are so loved. Is there + so much joy in your life that you can despise this? There is none in mine, without + you, nor ever can be unless we are always together—always, dear, always, + always."</p> + <p>She moved a little, and the drooping lids lifted almost imperceptibly.</p> + <p>"Do not tempt me, dear one," she said in a faint voice. "Let me go—let me + go."</p> + <p>Orsino's dark face was close to hers now, and she could see his bright eyes. Once + she tried to look away, and could not. Again she tried, lifting her head from the + cushioned chair. But his arm went round her neck and her cheek rested upon his + shoulder.</p> + <p>"Go, love," he said softly, pressing her more closely. "Go—let us not love + each other. It is so easy not to love."</p> + <p>She looked up into his eyes again with a sudden shiver, and they both grew very + pale. For ten seconds neither spoke nor moved. Then their lips met.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXI" name='CHAPTER_XXI'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>When Orsino was alone that night, he asked himself more than one question which he + did not find it easy to answer. He could define, indeed, the relation in which he now + stood to Maria Consuelo, for though she had ultimately refused to speak the words of + a promise, he no longer doubted that she meant to be his wife and that her scruples + were overcome for ever. This was, undeniably, the most important point in the whole + affair, so far as his own satisfaction was concerned, but there were others of the + gravest import to be considered and elucidated before he could even weigh the + probabilities of future happiness.</p> + <p>He had not lost his head on the present occasion, as he had formerly done when his + passion had been anything but sincere. He was perfectly conscious that Maria Consuelo + was now the principal person concerned in his life and that the moment would + inevitably have come, sooner or later, in which he must have told her so as he had + done on this day. He had not yielded to a sudden impulse, but to a steady and growing + pressure from which there had been no means of escape, and which he had not sought to + elude. He was not in one of those moods of half-senseless, exuberant spirits, such as + had come upon him more than once during the winter after he had been an hour in her + society and had said or done something more than usually rash. On the contrary, he + was inclined to look the whole situation soberly in the face, and to doubt whether + the love which dominated him might not prove a source of unhappiness to Maria + Consuelo as well as to himself. At the same time he knew that it would be useless to + fight against that domination, for he knew that he was now absolutely sincere.</p> + <p>But the difficulties to be met and overcome were many and great. He might have + betrothed himself to almost any woman in society, widow or spinster, without + anticipating one hundredth part of the opposition which he must now certainly + encounter. He was not even angry beforehand with the prejudice which would animate + his father and mother, for he admitted that it was hardly a prejudice at all, and + certainly not one peculiar to them, or to their class. It would be hard to find a + family, anywhere, of any respectability, no matter how modest, that would accept + without question such a choice as he had made. Maria Consuelo was one of those + persons about whom the world is ready to speak in disparagement, knowing that it will + not be easy to find defenders for them. The world indeed, loves its own and treats + them with consideration, especially in the matter of passing follies, and after it + had been plain to society that Orsino had fallen under Maria Consuelo's charm, he had + heard no more disagreeable remarks about her origin nor the circumstances of her + widowhood. But he remembered what had been said before that, when he himself had + listened indifferently enough, and he guessed that ill-natured people called her an + adventuress or little better. If anything could have increased the suffering which + this intuitive knowledge caused him, it was the fact that he possessed no proof of + her right to rank with the best, except his own implicit faith in her, and the few + words Spicca had chosen to let fall. Spicca was still thought so dangerous that + people hesitated to contradict him openly, but his mere assertion, Orsino thought, + though it might be accepted in appearance, was not of enough weight to carry inward + conviction with it in the minds of people who had no interest in being convinced. It + was only too plain that, unless Maria Consuelo, or Spicca, or both, were willing to + tell the strange story in its integrity, there were not proof enough to convince the + most willing person of her right to the social position she occupied after that had + once been called into question. To Orsino's mind the very fact that it had been + questioned at all demonstrated sufficiently a carelessness on her own part which + could only proceed from the certainty of possessing that right beyond dispute. It + would doubtless have been possible for her to provide herself from the first with + something in the nature of a guarantee for her identity. She could surely have had + the means, through some friend of her own elsewhere, of making the acquaintance of + some one in society, who would have vouched for her and silenced the carelessly + spiteful talk concerning her which had gone the rounds when she first appeared. But + she had seemed to be quite indifferent. She had refused Orsino's pressing offer to + bring her into relations with his mother, whose influence would have been enough to + straighten a reputation far more doubtful than Maria Consuelo's, and she had almost + wilfully thrown herself into a sort of intimacy with the Countess Del Ferice.</p> + <p>But Orsino, as he thought of these matters, saw how futile such arguments must + seem to his own people, and how absurdly inadequate they were to better his own state + of mind, since he needed no conviction himself but sought the means of convincing + others. One point alone gave him some hope. Under the existing laws the inevitable + legal marriage would require the production of documents which would clear the whole + story at once. On the other hand, that fact could make Orsino's position no easier + with his father and mother until the papers were actually produced. People cannot + easily be married secretly in Rome, where the law requires the publication of banns + by posting them upon the doors of the Capitol, and the name of Orsino Saracinesca + would not be easily overlooked. Orsino was aware of course that he was not in need of + his parents' consent for his marriage, but he had not been brought up in a way to + look upon their acquiescence as unnecessary. He was deeply attached to them both, but + especially to his mother who had been his staunch friend in his efforts to do + something for himself, and to whom he naturally looked for sympathy if not for actual + help. However certain he might be of the ultimate result of his marriage, the idea of + being married in direct opposition to her wishes was so repugnant to him as to be + almost an insurmountable barrier. He might, indeed, and probably would, conceal his + engagement for some time, but solely with the intention of so preparing the evidence + in favour of it as to make it immediately acceptable to his father and mother when + announced.</p> + <p>It seemed possible that, if he could bring Maria Consuelo to see the matter as he + saw it, she might at once throw aside her reticence and furnish him with the + information he so greatly needed. But it would be a delicate matter to bring her to + that point of view, unconscious as she must be of her equivocal position. He could + not go to her and tell her that in order to announce their engagement he must be able + to tell the world who and what she really was. The most he could do would be to tell + her exactly what papers were necessary for her marriage and to prevail upon her to + procure them as soon as possible, or to hand them to him at once if they were already + in her possession. But in order to require even this much of her, it was necessary to + push matters farther than they had yet gone. He had certainly pledged himself to her, + and he firmly believed that she considered herself bound to him. But beyond that, + nothing definite had passed.</p> + <p>They had been interrupted by the entrance of workmen asking for orders, and he had + thought that Maria Consuelo had seemed anxious to detain the men as long as possible. + That such a scene could not be immediately renewed where it had been broken off was + clear enough, but Orsino fancied that she had not wished even to attempt a renewal of + it. He had taken her home in the dusk, and she had refused to let him enter the hotel + with her. She said that she wished to be alone, and he had been fain to be satisfied + with the pressure of her hand and the look in her eyes, which both said much while + not saying half of what he longed to hear and know.</p> + <p>He would see her, of course, at the usual hour on the following day, and he + determined to speak plainly and strongly. She could not ask him to prolong such a + state of uncertainty. Considering how gradual the steps had been which had led up to + what had taken place on that rainy afternoon it was not conceivable, he thought, that + she would still ask for time to make up her mind. She would at least consent to some + preliminary agreement upon a line of conduct for both to follow.</p> + <p>But impossible as the other case seemed, Orsino did not neglect it. His mind was + developing with his character and was acquiring the habit of foreseeing difficulties + in order to forestall them. If Maria Consuelo returned suddenly to her original point + of view maintaining that the promise given to her dying husband was still binding, + Orsino determined that he would go to Spicca in a last resort. Whatever the bond + which united them, it was clear that Spicca possessed some kind of power over Maria + Consuelo, and that he was so far acquainted with all the circumstances of her + previous life as to be eminently capable of giving Orsino advice for the future.</p> + <p>He went to his office on the following morning with little inclination for work. + It would be more just, perhaps, to say that he felt the desire to pursue his usual + occupation while conscious that his mind was too much disturbed by the events of the + previous afternoon to concentrate itself upon the details of accounts and plans. He + found himself committing all sorts of errors of oversight quite unusual with him. + Figures seemed to have lost their value and plans their meaning. With the utmost + determination he held himself to his task, not willing to believe that his judgment + and nerve could be so disturbed as to render him unfit for any serious business. But + the result was contemptible as compared with the effort.</p> + <p>Andrea Contini, too, was inclined to take a gloomy view of things, contrary to his + usual habit. A report was spreading to the effect that a certain big contractor was + on the verge of bankruptcy, a man who had hitherto been considered beyond the danger + of heavy loss. There had been more than one small failure of late, but no one had + paid much attention to such accidents which were generally attributed to personal + causes rather than to an approaching turn in the tide of speculation. But Contini + chose to believe that a crisis was not far off. He possessed in a high degree that + sort of caution which is valuable rather in an assistant than in a chief. Orsino was + little inclined to share his architect's despondency for the present.</p> + <p>"You need a change of air," he said, pushing a heap of papers away from him and + lighting a cigarette. "You ought to go down to Porto d'Anzio for a few days. You have + been too long in the heat."</p> + <p>"No longer than you, Don Orsino," answered Contini, from his own table.</p> + <p>"You are depressed and gloomy. You have worked harder than I. You should really go + out of town for a day or two."</p> + <p>"I do not feel the need of it."</p> + <p>Contini bent over his table again and a short silence followed. Orsino's mind + instantly reverted to Maria Consuelo. He felt a violent desire to leave the office + and go to her at once. There was no reason why he should not visit her in the morning + if he pleased. At the worst, she might refuse to receive him. He was thinking how she + would look, and wondering whether she would smile or meet him with earnest half + regretful eyes, when Contini's voice broke into his meditations again.</p> + <p>"You think I am despondent because I have been working too long in the heat," said + the young man, rising and beginning to pace the floor before Orsino. "No. I am not + that kind of man. I am never tired. I can go on for ever. But affairs in Rome will + not go on for ever. I tell you that, Don Orsino. There is trouble in the air. I wish + we had sold everything and could wait. It would be much better."</p> + <p>"All this is very vague, Contini."</p> + <p>"It is very clear to me. Matters are going from bad to worse. There is no doubt + that Ronco has failed."</p> + <p>"Well, and if he has? We are not Ronco. He was involved in all sorts of other + speculations. If he had stuck to land and building he would be as sound as ever."</p> + <p>"For another month, perhaps. Do you know why he is ruined?"</p> + <p>"By his own fault, as people always are. He was rash."</p> + <p>"No rasher than we are. I believe that the game is played out. Ronco is bankrupt + because the bank with which he deals cannot discount any more bills this week."</p> + <p>"And why not?"</p> + <p>"Because the foreign banks will not take any more of all this paper that is flying + about. Those small failures in the summer have produced their effect. Some of the + paper was in Paris and some in Vienna. It turned out worthless, and the foreigners + have taken fright. It is all a fraud, at best—or something very like it."</p> + <p>"What do you mean?"</p> + <p>"Tell me the truth, Don Orsino—have you seen a centime of all these millions + which every one is dealing with? Do you believe they really exist? No. It is all + paper, paper, and more paper. There is no cash in the business."</p> + <p>"But there is land and there are houses, which represent the millions + substantially."</p> + <p>"Substantially! Yes—as long as the inflation lasts. After that they will + represent nothing."</p> + <p>"You are talking nonsense, Contini. Prices may fall, and some people will lose, + but you cannot destroy real estate permanently."</p> + <p>"Its value may be destroyed for ten or twenty years, which is practically the same + thing when people have no other property. Take this block we are building. It + represents a large sum. Say that in the next six months there are half a dozen + failures like Ronco's and that a panic sets in. We could then neither sell the houses + nor let them. What would they represent to us? Nothing. Failure—like the + failure of everybody else. Do you know where the millions really are? You ought to + know better than most people. They are in Casa Saracinesca and in a few other great + houses which have not dabbled in all this business, and perhaps they are in the + pockets of a few clever men who have got out of it all in time. They are certainly + not in the firm of Andrea Contini and Company, which will assuredly be bankrupt + before the winter is out."</p> + <p>Contini bit his cigar savagely, thrust his hands into his pockets and looked out + of the window, turning his back on Orsino. The latter watched his companion in + surprise, not understanding why his dismal forebodings should find such sudden and + strong expression.</p> + <p>"I think you exaggerate very much," said Orsino. "There is always risk in such + business as this. But it strikes me that the risk was greater when we had less + capital."</p> + <p>"Capital!" exclaimed the architect contemptuously and without turning round. "Can + we draw a cheque—a plain unadorned cheque and not a draft—for a hundred + thousand francs to-day? Or shall we be able to draw it to-morrow? Capital! We have a + lot of brick and mortar in our possession, put together more or less symmetrically + according to our taste, and practically unpaid for. If we manage to sell it in time + we shall get the difference between what is paid and what we owe. That is our + capital. It is problematical, to say the least of it. If we realise less than we owe + we are bankrupt."</p> + <p>He came back suddenly to Orsino's table as he ceased speaking and his face showed + that he was really disturbed. Orsino looked at him steadily for a few seconds.</p> + <p>"It is not only Ronco's failure that frightens you, Contini. There must be + something else."</p> + <p>"More of the same kind. There is enough to frighten any one."</p> + <p>"No, there is something else. You have been talking with somebody."</p> + <p>"With Del Ferice's confidential clerk. Yes—it is quite true. I was with him + last night."</p> + <p>"And what did he say? What you have been telling me, I suppose."</p> + <p>"Something much more disagreeable—something you would rather not hear."</p> + <p>"I wish to hear it."</p> + <p>"You should, as a matter of fact."</p> + <p>"Go on."</p> + <p>"We are completely in Del Ferice's hands."</p> + <p>"We are in the hands of his bank."</p> + <p>"What is the difference? To all intents and purposes he is our bank. The proof is + that but for him we should have failed already."</p> + <p>Orsino looked up sharply.</p> + <p>"Be clear, Contini. Tell me what you mean."</p> + <p>"I mean this. For a month past the bank could not have discounted a hundred + francs' worth of our paper. Del Ferice has taken it all and advanced the money out of + his private account."</p> + <p>"Are you sure of what you are telling me?" Orsino asked the question in a low + voice, and his brow contracted.</p> + <p>"One can hardly have better authority than the clerk's own statement."</p> + <p>"And he distinctly told you this, did he?"</p> + <p>"Most distinctly."</p> + <p>"He must have had an object in betraying such a confidence," said Orsino. "It is + not likely that such a man would carelessly tell you or me a secret which is + evidently meant to be kept."</p> + <p>He spoke quietly enough, but the tone of his voice was changed and betrayed how + greatly he was moved by the news. Contini began to walk up and down again, but did + not make any answer to the remark.</p> + <p>"How much do we owe the bank?" Orsino asked suddenly.</p> + <p>"Roughly, about six hundred thousand."</p> + <p>"How much of that paper do you think Del Ferice has taken up himself?"</p> + <p>"About a quarter, I fancy, from what the clerk told me."</p> + <p>A long silence followed, during which Orsino tried to review the situation in all + its various aspects. It was clear that Del Ferice did not wish Andrea Contini and + Company to fail and was putting himself to serious inconvenience in order to avert + the catastrophe. Whether he wished, in so doing, to keep Orsino in his power, or + whether he merely desired to escape the charge of having ruined his old enemy's son + out of spite, it was hard to decide. Orsino passed over that question quickly enough. + So far as any sense of humiliation was concerned he knew very well that his mother + would be ready and able to pay off all his liabilities at the shortest notice. What + Orsino felt most deeply was profound disappointment and utter disgust at his own + folly. It seemed to him that he had been played with and flattered into the belief + that he was a serious man of business, while all along he had been pushed and helped + by unseen hands. There was nothing to prove that Del Ferice had not thus deceived him + from the first; and, indeed, when he thought of his small beginnings early in the + year and realised the dimensions which the business had now assumed, he could not + help believing that Del Ferice had been at the bottom of all his apparent success and + that his own earnest and ceaseless efforts had really had but little to do with the + development of his affairs. His vanity suffered terribly under the first shock.</p> + <p>He was bitterly disappointed. During the preceding months he had begun to feel + himself independent and able to stand alone, and he had looked forward in the near + future to telling his father that he had made a fortune for himself without any man's + help. He had remembered every word of cold discouragement to which he had been forced + to listen at the very beginning, and he had felt sure of having a success to set + against each one of those words. He knew that he had not been idle and he had fancied + that every hour of work had produced its permanent result, and left him with + something more to show. He had seen his mother's pride in him growing day by day in + his apparent success, and he had been confident of proving to her that she was not + half proud enough. All that was gone in a moment. He saw, or fancied that he saw, + nothing but a series of failures which had been bolstered up and inflated into + seeming triumphs by a man whom his father despised and hated and whom, as a man, he + himself did not respect. The disillusionment was complete.</p> + <p>At first it seemed to him that there was nothing to be done but to go directly to + Saracinesca and tell the truth to his father and mother. Financially, when the wealth + of the family was taken into consideration there was nothing very alarming in the + situation. He would borrow of his father enough to clear him with Del Ferice and + would sell the unfinished buildings for what they would bring. He might even induce + his father to help him in finishing the work. There would be no trouble about the + business question. As for Contini, he should not lose by the transaction and + permanent occupation could doubtless be found for him on one of the estates if he + chose to accept it.</p> + <p>He thought of the interview and his vanity dreaded it. Another plan suggested + itself to him. On the whole, it seemed easier to bear his dependence on Del Ferice + than to confess himself beaten. There was nothing dishonourable, nothing which could + be called so at least, in accepting financial accommodation from a man whose business + it was to lend money on security. If Del Ferice chose to advance sums which his bank + would not advance, he did it for good reasons of his own and certainly not in the + intention of losing by it in the end. In case of failure Del Ferice would take the + buildings for the debt and would certainly in that case get them for much less than + they were worth. Orsino would be no worse off than when he had begun, he would + frankly confess that though he had lost nothing he had not made a fortune, and the + matter would be at an end. That would be very much easier to bear than the + humiliation of confessing at the present moment that he was in Del Ferice's power and + would be bankrupt but for Del Ferice's personal help. And again he repeated to + himself that Del Ferice was not a man to throw money away without hope of recovery + with interest. It was inconceivable, too, that Ugo should have pushed him so far + merely to flatter a young man's vanity. He meant to make use of him, or to make money + out of his failure. In either case Orsino would be his dupe and would not be under + any obligation to him. Compared with the necessity of acknowledging the present state + of his affairs to his father, the prospect of being made a tool of by Del Ferice was + bearable, not to say attractive.</p> + <p>"What had we better do, Contini?" he asked at length.</p> + <p>"There is nothing to be done but to go on, I suppose, until we are ruined," + replied the architect. "Even if we had the money, we should gain nothing by taking + off all our bills as they fall due, instead of renewing them."</p> + <p>"But if the bank will not discount any more—"</p> + <p>"Del Ferice will, in the bank's name. When he is ready for the failure, we shall + fail and he will profit by our loss."</p> + <p>"Do you think that is what he means to do?"</p> + <p>Contini looked at Orsino in surprise.</p> + <p>"Of course. What did you expect? You do not suppose that he means to make us a + present of that paper, or to hold it indefinitely until we can make a good sale."</p> + <p>"And he will ultimately get possession of all the paper himself."</p> + <p>"Naturally. As the old bills fall due we shall renew them with him, practically, + and not with the bank. He knows what he is about. He probably has some scheme for + selling the whole block to the government, or to some institution, and is sure of his + profit beforehand. Our failure will give him a profit of twenty-five or thirty per + cent."</p> + <p>Orsino was strangely reassured by his partner's gloomy view. To him every word + proved that he was free from any personal obligation to Del Ferice and might accept + the latter's assistance without the least compunction. He did not like to remember + that a man of Ugo's subtle intelligence might have something more important in view + than a profit of a few hundred thousand francs, if indeed the sum should amount to + that. Orsino's brow cleared and his expression changed.</p> + <p>"You seem to like the idea," observed Contini rather irritably.</p> + <p>"I would rather be ruined by Del Ferice than helped by him."</p> + <p>"Ruin means so little to you, Don Orsino. It means the inheritance of an enormous + fortune, a princess for a wife and the choice of two or three palaces to live + in."</p> + <p>"That is one way of putting it," answered Orsino, almost laughing. "As for + yourself, my friend, I do not see that your prospects are so very bad. Do you suppose + that I shall abandon you after having led you into this scrape, and after having + learned to like you and understand your talent? You are very much mistaken. We have + tried this together and failed, but as you rightly say I shall not be in the least + ruined by the failure. Do you know what will happen? My father will tell me that + since I have gained some experience I should go and manage one of the estates and + improve the buildings. Then you and I will go together."</p> + <p>Contini smiled suddenly and his bright eyes sparkled. He was profoundly attached + to Orsino, and thought perhaps as much of the loss of his companionship as of the + destruction of his material hopes in the event of a liquidation.</p> + <p>"If that could be, I should not care what became of the business," he said + simply.</p> + <p>"How long do you think we shall last?" asked Orsino after a short pause.</p> + <p>"If business grows worse, as I think it will, we shall last until the first bill + that falls due after the doors and windows are put in."</p> + <p>"That is precise, at least."</p> + <p>"It will probably take us into January, or perhaps February."</p> + <p>"But suppose that Del Ferice himself gets into trouble between now and then. If he + cannot discount any more, what will happen?"</p> + <p>"We shall fail a little sooner. But you need not be afraid of that. Del Ferice + knows what he is about better than we do, better than his confidential clerk, much + better than most men of business in Rome. If he fails, he will fail intentionally and + at the right moment."</p> + <p>"And do you not think that there is even a remote possibility of an improvement in + business, so that nobody will fail at all?"</p> + <p>"No," answered Contini thoughtfully. "I do not think so. It is a paper system and + it will go to pieces."</p> + <p>"Why have you not said the same thing before? You must have had this opinion a + long time."</p> + <p>"I did not believe that Ronco could fail. An accident opens the eyes."</p> + <p>Orsino had almost decided to let matters go on but he found some difficulty in + actually making up his mind. In spite of Contini's assurances he could not get rid of + the idea that he was under an obligation to Del Ferice. Once, at least, he thought of + going directly to Ugo and asking for a clear explanation of the whole affair. But Ugo + was not in town, as he knew, and the impossibility of going at once made it + improbable that Orsino would go at all. It would not have been a very wise move, for + Del Ferice could easily deny the story, seeing that the paper was all in the bank's + name, and he would probably have visited the indiscretion upon the unfortunate + clerk.</p> + <p>In the long silence which followed, Orsino relapsed into his former despondency. + After all, whether he confessed his failure or not, he had undeniably failed and been + played upon from the first, and he admitted it to himself without attempting to spare + his vanity, and his self-contempt was great and painful. The fact that he had grown + from a boy to a man during his experience did not make it easier to bear such wounds, + which are felt more keenly by the strong than by the weak when they are real.</p> + <p>As the day wore on the longing to see Maria Consuelo grew upon him until he felt + that he had never before wished to be with her as he wished it now. He had no + intention of telling her his trouble but he needed the assurance of an ever ready + sympathy which he so often saw in her eyes, and which was always there for him when + he asked it. When there is love there is reliance, whether expressed or not, and + where there is reliance, be it ever so slender, there is comfort for many ills of + body, mind and soul.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXII" name='CHAPTER_XXII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino felt suddenly relieved when he had left his office in the afternoon. + Contini's gloomy mood was contagious, and so long as Orsino was with him it was + impossible not to share the architect's view of affairs. Alone, however, things did + not seem so bad. As a matter of fact it was almost impossible for the young man to + give up all his illusions concerning his own success in one moment, and to believe + himself the dupe of his own blind vanity instead of regarding himself as the winner + in the fight for independence of thought and action. He could not deny the facts + Contini alleged. He had to admit that he was apparently in Del Ferice's power, unless + he appealed to his own people for assistance. He was driven to acknowledge that he + had made a great mistake. But he could not altogether distrust himself and he fancied + that after all, with a fair share of luck, he might prove a match for Ugo on the + financier's own ground. He had learned to have confidence in his own powers and + judgment, and as he walked away from the office every moment strengthened his + determination to struggle on with such resources as he might be able to command, so + long as there should be a possibility of action of any sort. He felt, too, that more + depended upon his success than the mere satisfaction of his vanity. If he failed, he + might lose Maria Consuelo as well as his self-respect: He had that sensation, + familiar enough to many young men when extremely in love, that in order to be loved + in return one must succeed, and that a single failure endangers the stability of a + passion which, if it be honest, has nothing to do with failure or success. At + Orsino's age, and with his temper, it is hard to believe that pity is more closely + akin to love than admiration.</p> + <p>Gradually the conviction reasserted itself that he could fight his way through + unaided, and his spirits rose as he approached the more crowded quarters of the city + on his way to the hotel where Maria Consuelo was stopping. Not even the yells of the + newsboys affected him, as they announced the failure of the great contractor Ronco + and offered, in a second edition, a complete account of the bankruptcy. It struck him + indeed that before long the same brazen voices might be screaming out the news that + Andrea Contini and Company had come to grief. But the idea lent a sense of danger to + the situation which Orsino did not find unpleasant. The greater the difficulty the + greater the merit in overcoming it, and the greater therefore the admiration he + should get from the woman he loved. His position was certainly an odd one, and many + men would not have felt the excitement which he experienced. The financial side of + the question was strangely indifferent to him, who knew himself backed by the great + fortune of his family, and believed that his ultimate loss could only be the small + sum with which he had begun his operations. But the moral risk seemed enormous and + grew in importance as he thought of it.</p> + <p>He found Maria Consuelo looking pale and weary. She evidently had no intention of + going out that day, for she wore a morning gown and was established upon a lounge + with books and flowers beside her as though she did not mean to move. She was not + reading, however. Orsino was startled by the sadness in her face.</p> + <p>She looked fixedly into his eyes as she gave him her hand, and he sat down beside + her.</p> + <p>"I am glad you are come," she said at last, in a low voice. "I have been hoping + all day that you would come early."</p> + <p>"I would have come this morning if I had dared," answered Orsino.</p> + <p>She looked at him again, and smiled faintly.</p> + <p>"I have a great deal to say to you," she began. Then she hesitated as though + uncertain where to begin.</p> + <p>"And I—" Orsino tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it.</p> + <p>"Yes, but do not say it. At least, not now."</p> + <p>"Why not, dear one? May I not tell you how I love you? What is it, love? You are + so sad to-day. Has anything happened?"</p> + <p>His voice grew soft and tender as he spoke, bending to her ear. She pushed him + gently back.</p> + <p>"You know what has happened," she answered. "It is no wonder that I am sad."</p> + <p>"I do not understand you, dear. Tell me what it is."</p> + <p>"I told you too much yesterday—"</p> + <p>"Too much?"</p> + <p>"Far too much."</p> + <p>"Are you going to unsay it?"</p> + <p>"How can I?"</p> + <p>She turned her face away and her fingers played nervously with her laces.</p> + <p>"No—indeed, neither of us can unsay such words," said Orsino. "But I do not + understand you yet, darling. You must tell me what you mean to-day."</p> + <p>"You know it all. It is because you will not understand—"</p> + <p>Orsino's face changed and his voice took another tone when he spoke.</p> + <p>"Are you playing with me, Consuelo?" he asked gravely.</p> + <p>She started slightly and grew paler than before.</p> + <p>"You are not kind," she said. "I am suffering very much. Do not make it + harder."</p> + <p>"I am suffering, too. You mean me to understand that you regret what happened + yesterday and that you wish to take back your words, that whether you love me or not, + you mean to act and appear as though you did not, and that I am to behave as though + nothing had happened. Do you think that would be easy? And do you think I do not + suffer at the mere idea of it?"</p> + <p>"Since it must be—"</p> + <p>"There is no must," answered Orsino with energy. "You would ruin your life and + mine for the mere shadow of a memory which you choose to take for a binding promise. + I will not let you do it."</p> + <p>"You will not?" She looked at him quickly with an expression of resistance.</p> + <p>"No—I will not," he repeated. "We have too much at stake. You shall not lose + all for both of us."</p> + <p>"You are wrong, dear one," she said, with sudden softness. "If you love me, you + should believe me and trust me. I can give you nothing but unhappiness—"</p> + <p>"You have given me the only happiness I ever knew—and you ask me to believe + that you could make me unhappy in any way except by not loving me! Consuelo—my + darling—are you out of your senses?"</p> + <p>"No. I am too much in them. I wish I were not. If I were mad I should—"</p> + <p>"What?"</p> + <p>"Never mind. I will not even say it. No—do not try to take my hand, for I + will not give it to you. Listen, Orsino—be reasonable, listen to me—"</p> + <p>"I will try and listen."</p> + <p>But Maria Consuelo did not speak at once. Possibly she was trying to collect her + thoughts.</p> + <p>"What have you to say, dearest?" asked Orsino at length. "I will try to + understand."</p> + <p>"You must understand. I will make it all clear to you and then you will see it as + I do."</p> + <p>"And then—what?"</p> + <p>"And then we must part," she said in a low voice.</p> + <p>Orsino said nothing, but shook his head incredulously.</p> + <p>"Yes," repeated Maria Consuelo, "we must not see each other any more after this. + It has been all my fault. I shall leave Rome and not come back again. It will be best + for you and I will make it best for me."</p> + <p>"You talk very easily of parting."</p> + <p>"Do I? Every word is a wound. Do I look as though I were indifferent?"</p> + <p>Orsino glanced at her pale face and tearful eyes.</p> + <p>"No, dear," he said softly.</p> + <p>"Then do not call me heartless. I have more heart than you think—and it is + breaking. And do not say that I do not love you. I love you better than you + know—better than you will be loved again when you are older—and happier, + perhaps. Yes, I know what you want to say. Well, dear—you love me, too. Yes, I + know it. Let there be no unkind words and no doubts between us to-day. I think it is + our last day together."</p> + <p>"For God's sake, Consuelo—"</p> + <p>"We shall see. Now let me speak—if I can. There are three reasons why you + and I should not marry. I have thought of them through all last night and all to-day, + and I know them. The first is my solemn vow to the dying man who loved me so well and + who asked nothing but that—whose wife I never was, but whose name I bear. Think + me mad, superstitious—what you will—I cannot break that promise. It was + almost an oath not to love, and if it was I have broken it. But the rest I can keep, + and will. The next reason is that I am older than you. I might forget that, I have + forgotten it more than once, but the time will come soon when you will remember + it."</p> + <p>Orsino made an angry gesture and would have spoken, but she checked him.</p> + <p>"Pass that over, since we are both young. The third reason is harder to tell and + no power on earth can explain it away. I am no match for you in birth, + Orsino—"</p> + <p>The young man interrupted her now, and fiercely.</p> + <p>"Do you dare to think that I care what your birth may be?" he asked.</p> + <p>"There are those who do care, even if you do not, dear one," she answered + quietly.</p> + <p>"And what is their caring to you or me?"</p> + <p>"It is not so small a matter as you think. I am not talking of a mere difference + in rank. It is worse than that. I do not really know who I am. Do you understand? I + do not know who my mother was nor whether she is alive or dead, and before I was + married I did not bear my father's name."</p> + <p>"But you know your father—you know his name at least?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"Who is he?" Orsino could hardly pronounce the words of the question.</p> + <p>"Count Spicca."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo spoke quietly, but her fingers trembled nervously and she watched + Orsino's face in evident distress and anxiety. As for Orsino, he was almost dumb with + amazement.</p> + <p>"Spicca! Spicca your father!" he repeated indistinctly.</p> + <p>In all his many speculations as to the tie which existed between Maria Consuelo + and the old duellist, he had never thought of this one.</p> + <p>"Then you never suspected it?" asked Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>"How should I? And your own father killed your husband—good Heavens! What a + story!"</p> + <p>"You know now. You see for yourself how impossible it is that I should marry + you."</p> + <p>In his excitement Orsino had risen and was pacing the room. He scarcely heard her + last words, and did not say anything in reply. Maria Consuelo lay quite still upon + the lounge, her hands clasped tightly together and straining upon each other.</p> + <p>"You see it all now," she said again. This time his attention was arrested and he + stopped before her.</p> + <p>"Yes. I see what you mean. But I do not see it as you see it. I do not see that + any of these things you have told me need hinder our marriage."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo did not move, but her expression changed. The light stole slowly + into her face and lingered there, not driving away the sadness but illuminating + it.</p> + <p>"And would you have the courage, in spite of your family and of society, to marry + me, a woman practically nameless, older than yourself—"</p> + <p>"I not only would, but I will," answered Orsino.</p> + <p>"You cannot—but I thank you, dear," said Maria Consuelo.</p> + <p>He was standing close beside her. She took his hand and tenderly touched it with + her lips. He started and drew it back, for no woman had ever kissed his hand.</p> + <p>"You must not do that!" he exclaimed, instinctively.</p> + <p>"And why not, if I please?" she asked, raising her eyebrows with a little + affectionate laugh.</p> + <p>"I am not good enough to kiss your hand, darling—still less to let you kiss + mine. Never mind—we were talking—where were we?"</p> + <p>"You were saying—" But he interrupted her.</p> + <p>"What does it matter, when I love you so, and you love me?" he asked + passionately.</p> + <p>He knelt beside her as she lay on the lounge and took her hands, holding them and + drawing her towards him. She resisted and turned her face away.</p> + <p>"No—no! It matters too much—let me go, it only makes it worse!"</p> + <p>"Makes what worse?"</p> + <p>"Parting—"</p> + <p>"We will not part. I will not let you go!"</p> + <p>But still she struggled with her hands and he, fearing to hurt them in his grasp, + let them slip away with a lingering touch.</p> + <p>"Get up," she said. "Sit here, beside me—a little further—there. We + can talk better so."</p> + <p>"I cannot talk at all—"</p> + <p>"Without holding my hands?"</p> + <p>"Why should I not?"</p> + <p>"Because I ask you. Please, dear—"</p> + <p>She drew back on the lounge, raised herself a little and turned her face to him. + Again, as his eyes met hers, he leaned forward quickly, as though he would leave his + seat. But she checked him, by an imperative glance and a gesture. He was unreasonable + and had no right to be annoyed, but something in her manner chilled him and pained + him in a way he could not have explained. When he spoke there was a shade of change + in the tone of his voice.</p> + <p>"The things you have told me do not influence me in the least," he said with more + calmness than he had yet shown. "What you believe to be the most important reason is + no reason at all to me. You are Count Spicca's daughter. He is an old friend of my + father—not that it matters very materially, but it may make everything easier. + I will go to him to-day and tell him that I wish to marry you—"</p> + <p>"You will not do that!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo in a tone of alarm.</p> + <p>"Yes, I will. Why not? Do you know what he once said to me? He told me he wished + we might take a fancy to each other, because, as he expressed it, we should be so + well matched."</p> + <p>"Did he say that?" asked Maria Consuelo gravely.</p> + <p>"That or something to the same effect. Are you surprised? What surprises me is + that I should never have guessed the relation between you. Now your father is a very + honourable man. What he said meant something, and when he said it he meant that our + marriage would seem natural to him and to everybody. I will go and talk to him. So + much for your great reason. As for the second you gave, it is absurd. We are of the + same age, to all intents and purposes."</p> + <p>"I am not twenty-three years old."</p> + <p>"And I am not quite two and twenty. Is that a difference? So much for that. Take + the third, which you put first. Seriously, do you think that any intelligent being + would consider you bound by such a promise? Do you mean to say that a young + girl—you were nothing more—has a right to throw away her life out of + sentiment by making a promise of that kind? And to whom? To a man who is not her + husband, and never can be, because he is dying. To a man just not indifferent to her, + to a man—"</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo raised herself and looked full at Orsino. Her face was extremely + pale and her eyes were suddenly dark and gleamed.</p> + <p>"Don Orsino, you have no right to talk to me in that way. I loved him—no one + knows how I loved him!"</p> + <p>There was no mistaking the tone and the look. Orsino felt again and more strongly, + the chill and the pain he had felt before. He was silent for a moment. Maria Consuelo + looked at him a second longer, and then let her head fall back upon the cushion. But + the expression which had come into her face did not change at once.</p> + <p>"Forgive me," said Orsino after a pause. "I had not quite understood. The only + imaginable reason which could make our marriage impossible would be that. If you + loved him so well—if you loved him in such a way as to prevent you from loving + me as I love you—why then, you may be right after all."</p> + <p>In the silence which followed, he turned his face away and gazed at the window. He + had spoken quietly enough and his expression, strange to say, was calm and + thoughtful. It is not always easy for a woman to understand a man, for men soon learn + to conceal what hurts them but take little trouble to hide their happiness, if they + are honest. A man more often betrays himself by a look of pleasure than by an + expression of disappointment. It was thought manly to bear pain in silence long + before it became fashionable to seem indifferent to joy.</p> + <p>Orsino's manner displeased Maria Consuelo. It was too quiet and cold and she + thought he cared less than he really did.</p> + <p>"You say nothing," he said at last.</p> + <p>"What shall I say? You speak of something preventing me from loving you as you + love me. How can I tell how much you love me?"</p> + <p>"Do you not see it? Do you not feel it?" Orsino's tone warmed again as he turned + towards her, but he was conscious of an effort. Deeply as he loved her, it was not + natural for him to speak passionately just at that moment, but he knew she expected + it and he did his best. She was disappointed.</p> + <p>"Not always," she answered with a little sigh.</p> + <p>"You do not always believe that I love you?"</p> + <p>"I did not say that. I am not always sure that you love me as much as you think + you do—you imagine a great deal."</p> + <p>"I did not know it."</p> + <p>"Yes—sometimes. I am sure it is so."</p> + <p>"And how am I to prove that you are wrong and I am right?"</p> + <p>"How should I know? Perhaps time will show."</p> + <p>"Time is too slow for me. There must be some other way."</p> + <p>"Find it then," said Maria Consuelo, smiling rather sadly.</p> + <p>"I will."</p> + <p>He meant what he said, but the difficulty of the problem perplexed him and there + was not enough conviction in his voice. He was thinking rather of the matter itself + than of what he said. Maria Consuelo fanned herself slowly and stared at the + wall.</p> + <p>"If you doubt so much," said Orsino at last, "I have the right to doubt a little + too. If you loved me well enough you would promise to marry me. You do not."</p> + <p>There was a short pause. At last Maria Consuelo closed her fan, looked at it and + spoke.</p> + <p>"You say my reason is not good. Must I go all over it again? It seems a good one + to me. Is it incredible to you that a woman should love twice? Such things have + happened before. Is it incredible to you that, loving one person, a woman should + respect the memory of another and a solemn promise given to that other? I should + respect myself less if I did not. That it is all my fault I will admit, if you + like—that I should never have received you as I did—I grant it + all—that I was weak yesterday, that I am weak to-day, that I should be weak + to-morrow if I let this go on. I am sorry. You can take a little of the blame if you + are generous enough, or vain enough. You have tried hard to make me love you and you + have succeeded, for I love you very much. So much the worse for me. It must end + now."</p> + <p>"You do not think of me, when you say that."</p> + <p>"Perhaps I think more of you than you know—or will understand. I am older + than you—do not interrupt me! I am older, for a woman is always older than a + man in some things. I know what will happen, what will certainly happen in time if we + do not part. You will grow jealous of a shadow and I shall never be able to tell you + that this same shadow is not dear to me. You will come to hate what I have loved and + love still, though it does not prevent me from loving you too—"</p> + <p>"But less well," said Orsino rather harshly.</p> + <p>"You would believe that, at least, and the thought would always be between + us."</p> + <p>"If you loved me as much, you would not hesitate. You would marry me living, as + you married him dead."</p> + <p>"If there were no other reason against it—" She stopped.</p> + <p>"There is no other reason," said Orsino insisting.</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo shook her head but said nothing and a long silence followed. Orsino + sat still, watching her and wondering what was passing in her mind. It seemed to him, + and perhaps rightly, that if she were really in earnest and loved him with all her + heart, the reasons she gave for a separation were far from sufficient. He had not + even much faith in her present obstinacy and he did not believe that she would really + go away. It was incredible that any woman could be so capricious as she chose to be. + Her calmness, or what appeared to him her calmness, made it even less probable, he + thought, that she meant to part from him. But the thought alone was enough to disturb + him seriously. He had suffered a severe shock with outward composure but not without + inward suffering, followed naturally enough by something like angry resentment. As he + viewed the situation, Maria Consuelo had alternately drawn him on and disappointed + him from the very beginning; she had taken delight in forcing him to speak out his + love, only to chill him the next moment, or the next day, with the certainty that she + did not love him sincerely. Just then he would have preferred not to put into words + the thoughts of her that crossed his mind. They would have expressed a disbelief in + her character which he did not really feel and an opinion of his own judgment which + he would rather not have accepted.</p> + <p>He even went so far, in his anger, as to imagine what would happen if he suddenly + rose to go. She would put on that sad look of hers and give him her hand coldly. Then + just as he reached the door she would call him back, only to send him away again. He + would find on the following day that she had not left town after all, or, at most, + that she had gone to Florence for a day or two, while the workmen completed the + furnishing of her apartment. Then she would come back and would meet him just as + though there had never been anything between them.</p> + <p>The anticipation was so painful to him that he wished to have it realised and over + as soon as possible, and he looked at her again before rising from his seat. He could + hardly believe that she was the same woman who had stood with him, watching the + thunderstorm, on the previous afternoon.</p> + <p>He saw that she was pale, but she was not facing the light and the expression of + her face was not distinctly visible. On the whole, he fancied that her look was one + of indifference. Her hands lay idly upon her fan and by the drooping of her lids she + seemed to be looking at them. The full, curved lips were closed, but not drawn in as + though in pain, nor pouting as though in displeasure. She appeared to be singularly + calm. After hesitating another moment Orsino rose to his feet. He had made up his + mind what to say, for it was little enough, but his voice trembled a little.</p> + <p>"Good-bye, Madame."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo started slightly and looked up, as though to see whether he really + meant to go at that moment. She had no idea that he really thought of taking her at + her word and parting then and there. She did not realise how true it was that she was + much older than he and she had never believed him to be as impulsive as he sometimes + seemed.</p> + <p>"Do not go yet," she said, instinctively.</p> + <p>"Since you say that we must part—" he stopped, as though leaving her to + finish the sentence in imagination.</p> + <p>A frightened look passed quickly over Maria Consuelo's face. She made as though + she would have taken his hand, then drew back her own and bit her lip, not angrily + but as though she were controlling something.</p> + <p>"Since you insist upon our parting," Orsino said, after a short, strained silence, + "it is better that it should be got over at once." In spite of himself his voice was + still unsteady.</p> + <p>"I did not—no—yes, it is better so."</p> + <p>"Then good-bye, Madame."</p> + <p>It was impossible for her to understand all that had passed in his mind while he + had sat beside her, after the previous conversation had ended. His abruptness and + coldness were incomprehensible to her.</p> + <p>"Good-bye, then—Orsino."</p> + <p>For a moment her eyes rested on his. It was the sad look he had anticipated, and + she put out her hand now. Surely, he thought, if she loved him she would not let him + go so easily. He took her fingers and would have raised them to his lips when they + suddenly closed on his, not with the passionate, loving pressure of yesterday, but + firmly and quietly, as though they would not be disobeyed, guiding him again to his + seat close beside her. He sat down.</p> + <p>"Good-bye, then, Orsino," she repeated, not yet relinquishing her hold. "Good-bye, + dear, since it must be good-bye—but not good-bye as you said it. You shall not + go until you can say it differently."</p> + <p>She let him go now and changed her own position. Her feet slipped to the ground + and she leaned with her elbow upon the head of the lounge, resting her cheek against + her hand. She was nearer to him now than before and their eyes met as they faced each + other. She had certainly not chosen her attitude with any second thought of her own + appearance, but as Orsino looked into her face he saw again clearly all the beauties + that he had so long admired, the passionate eyes, the full, firm mouth, the broad + brow, the luminous white skin—all beauties in themselves though not, together, + making real beauty in her case. And beyond these he saw and felt over them all and + through them all the charm that fascinated him, appealing as it were to him in + particular of all men as it could not appeal to another. He was still angry, + disturbed out of his natural self and almost out of his passion, but he felt none the + less that Maria Consuelo could hold him if she pleased, as long as a shadow of + affection for her remained in him, and perhaps longer. When she spoke, he knew what + she meant, and he did not interrupt her nor attempt to answer.</p> + <p>"I have meant all I have said to-day," she continued. "Do not think it is easy for + me to say more. I would give all I have to give to take back yesterday, for yesterday + was my great mistake. I am only a woman and you will forgive me. I do what I am + doing now, for your sake—God knows it is not for mine. God knows how hard it is + for me to part from you. I am in earnest, you see. You believe me now."</p> + <p>Her voice was steady but the tears were already welling over.</p> + <p>"Yes, dear, I believe you," Orsino answered softly. Women's tears are a great + solvent of man's ill temper.</p> + <p>"As for this being right and best, this parting, you will see it as I do sooner or + later. But you do believe that I love you, dearly, tenderly, very—well, no + matter how—you believe it?"</p> + <p>"I believe it—"</p> + <p>"Then say 'good-bye, Consuelo'—and kiss me once—for what might have + been."</p> + <p>Orsino half rose, bent down and kissed her cheek.</p> + <p>"Good-bye, Consuelo," he said, almost whispering the words into her ear. In his + heart he did not think she meant it. He still expected that she would call him + back.</p> + <p>"It is good-bye, dear—believe it—remember it!" Her voice shook a + little now.</p> + <p>"Good-bye, Consuelo," he repeated.</p> + <p>With a loving look that meant no good-bye he drew back and went to the door. He + laid his hand on the handle and paused. She did not speak. Then he looked at her + again. Her head had fallen back against a cushion and her eyes were half closed. He + waited a second and a keen pain shot through him. Perhaps she was in earnest after + all. In an instant he had recrossed the room and was on his knees beside her trying + to take her hands.</p> + <p>"Consuelo—darling—you do not really mean it! You cannot, you will + not—"</p> + <p>He covered her hands with kisses and pressed them to his heart. For a few moments + she made no movement, but her eyelids quivered. Then she sprang to her feet, pushing + him back violently as he rose with her, and turning her face from him.</p> + <p>"Go—go!" she cried wildly. "Go—let me never see you again—never, + never!"</p> + <p>Before he could stop her, she had passed him with a rush like a swallow on the + wing and was gone from the room.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXIII" name='CHAPTER_XXIII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino was not in an enviable frame of mind when he left the hotel. It is easier + to bear suffering when one clearly understands all its causes, and distinguishes just + how great a part of it is inevitable and how great a part may be avoided or + mitigated. In the present case there was much in the situation which it passed his + power to analyse or comprehend. He still possessed the taste for discovering motives + in the actions of others as well as in his own, but many months of a busy life had + dulled the edge of the artificial logic in which he had formerly delighted, while + greatly sharpening his practical wit. Artificial analysis supplies from the + imagination the details lacking in facts, but common sense needs something more + tangible upon which to work. Orsino felt that the chief circumstance which had + determined Maria Consuelo's conduct had escaped him, and he sought in vain to detect + it.</p> + <p>He rejected the supposition that she was acting upon a caprice, that she had + yesterday believed it possible to marry him, while a change of humour made marriage + seem out of the question to-day. She was as capricious as most women, perhaps, but + not enough so for that. Besides, she had been really consistent. Not even yesterday + had she been shaken for a moment in her resolution not to be Orsino's wife. To-day + had confirmed yesterday therefore. However Orsino might have still doubted her + intention when he had gone to her side for the last time, her behaviour then and her + final words had been unmistakable. She meant to leave Rome at once.</p> + <p>Yet the reasons she had given him for her conduct were not sufficient in his eyes. + The difference of age was so small that it could safely be disregarded. Her promise + to the dying Aranjuez was an engagement, he thought, by which no person of sense + should expect her to abide. As for the question of her birth, he relied on that + speech of Spicca's which he so well remembered. Spicca might have spoken the words + thoughtlessly, it was true, and believing that Orsino would never, under any + circumstances whatever, think seriously of marrying Maria Consuelo. But Spicca was + not a man who often spoke carelessly, and what he said generally meant at least as + much as it appeared to mean.</p> + <p>It was doubtless true that Maria Consuelo was ignorant of her mother's name. + Nevertheless, it was quite possible that her mother had been Spicca's wife. Spicca's + life was said to be full of strange events not generally known. But though his + daughter might, and doubtless did believe herself a nameless child, and, as such, no + match for the heir of the Saracinesca, Orsino could not see why she should have + insisted upon a parting so sudden, so painful and so premature. She knew as much + yesterday and had known it all along. Why, if she possessed such strength of + character, had she allowed matters to go so far when she could easily have + interrupted the course of events at an earlier period? He did not admit that she + perhaps loved him so much as to have been carried away by her passion until she found + herself on the point of doing him an injury by marrying him, and that her love was + strong enough to induce her to sacrifice herself at the critical moment. Though he + loved her much he did not believe her to be heroic in any way. On the contrary, he + said to himself that if she were sincere, and if her love were at all like his own, + she would let no obstacle stand in the way of it. To him, the test of love must be + its utter recklessness. He could not believe that a still better test may be, and is, + the constant forethought for the object of love, and the determination to protect + that object from all danger in the present and from all suffering in the future, no + matter at what cost.</p> + <p>Perhaps it is not easy to believe that recklessness is a manifestation of the + second degree of passion, while the highest shows itself in painful sacrifice. Yet + the most daring act of chivalry never called for half the bravery shown by many a + martyr at the stake, and if courage be a measure of true passion, the passion which + will face life-long suffering to save its object from unhappiness or degradation is + greater than the passion which, for the sake of possessing its object, drags it into + danger and the risk of ruin. It may be that all this is untrue, and that the action + of these two imaginary individuals, the one sacrificing himself, the other + endangering the loved one, is dependent upon the balance of the animal, intellectual + and moral elements in each. We do not know much about the causes of what we feel, in + spite of modern analysis; but the heart rarely deceives us, when we can see the truth + for ourselves, into bestowing the more praise upon the less brave of two deeds. But + we do not often see the truth as it is. We know little of the lives of others, but we + are apt to think that other people understand our own very well, including our good + deeds if we have done any, and we expect full measure of credit for these, and the + utmost allowance of charity for our sins. In other words we desire our neighbour to + combine a power of forgiveness almost divine with a capacity for flattery more than + parasitic. That is why we are not easily satisfied with our acquaintances and that is + why our friends do not always turn out to be truthful persons. We ask too much for + the low price we offer, and if we insist we get the imitation.</p> + <p>Orsino loved Maria Consuelo with all his heart, as much as a young man of little + more than one and twenty can love the first woman to whom he is seriously attached. + There was nothing heroic in the passion, perhaps, nothing which could ultimately lead + to great results. But it was a strong love, nevertheless, with much, of devotion in + it and some latent violence. If he did not marry Maria Consuelo, it was not likely + that he would ever love again in exactly the same way. His next love would be either + far better or far worse, far nobler or far baser—perhaps a little less human in + either case.</p> + <p>He walked slowly away from the hotel, unconscious of the people in the street and + not thinking of the direction he took. His brain was in a whirl and his thoughts + seemed to revolve round some central point upon which they could not concentrate + themselves even for a second. The only thing of which he was sure was that Maria + Consuelo had taken herself from him suddenly and altogether, leaving him with a sense + of loneliness which he had not known before. He had gone to her in considerable + distress about his affairs, with the certainty of finding sympathy and perhaps + advice. He came away, as some men have returned from a grave accident, apparently + unscathed it may be, but temporarily deprived of some one sense, of sight, or + hearing, or touch. He was not sure that he was awake, and his troubled reflexions + came back by the same unvarying round to the point he had reached the first + time—if Maria Consuelo really loved him, she would not let such obstacles as + she spoke of hinder her union with him.</p> + <p>For a time Orsino was not conscious of any impulse to act. Gradually, however, his + real nature asserted itself, and he remembered how he had told her not long ago that + if she went away he would follow her, and how he had said that the world was small + and that he would soon find her again. It would undoubtedly be a simple matter to + accompany her, if she left Rome. He could easily ascertain the hour of her intended + departure and that alone would tell him the direction she had chosen. When she found + that she had not escaped him she would very probably give up the attempt and come + back, her humour would change and his own eloquence would do the rest.</p> + <p>He stopped in his walk, looked at his watch and glanced about him. He was at some + distance from the hotel and it was growing dusk, for the days were already short. If + Maria Consuelo really meant to leave Rome precipitately, she might go by the evening + train to Paris and in that case the people of the hotel would have been informed of + her intended departure.</p> + <p>Orsino only admitted the possibility of her actually going away while believing in + his heart that she would remain. He slowly retraced his steps, and it was seven + o'clock before he asked the hotel porter by what train Madame d'Aranjuez was leaving. + The porter did not know whether the lady was going north or south, but he called + another man, who went in search of a third, who disappeared for some time.</p> + <p>"Is it sure that Madame d'Aranjuez goes to-night?" asked Orsino trying to look + indifferent.</p> + <p>"Quite sure. Her rooms will be free to-morrow."</p> + <p>Orsino turned away and slowly paced up and down the marble pavement between the + tall plants, waiting for the messenger to come back.</p> + <p>"Madame d'Aranjuez leaves at nine forty-five," said the man, suddenly + reappearing.</p> + <p>Orsino hesitated a moment, and then made up his mind.</p> + <p>"Ask Madame if she will receive me for a moment," he said, producing a card.</p> + <p>The servant went away and again Orsino walked backwards and forwards, pale now and + very nervous. She was really going, and was going north—probably to Paris.</p> + <p>"Madame regrets infinitely that she is not able to receive the Signor Prince," + said the man in black at Orsino's elbow. "She is making her preparations for the + journey."</p> + <p>"Show me where I can write a note," said Orsino, who had expected the answer.</p> + <p>He was shown into the reading-room and writing materials were set before him. He + hurriedly wrote a few words to Maria Consuelo, without form of address and without + signature.</p> + <p>"I will not let you go without me. If you will not see me, I will be in the train, + and I will not leave you, wherever you go. I am in earnest."</p> + <p>He looked at the sheet of note-paper and wondered that he should find nothing more + to say. But he had said all he meant, and sealing the little note he sent it up to + Maria Consuelo with a request for an immediate answer. Just then the dinner bell of + the hotel was rung. The reading-room was deserted. He waited five minutes, then ten, + nervously turning over the newspapers and reviews on the long table, but quite unable + to read even the printed titles. He rang and asked if there had been no answer to his + note. The man was the same whom he had sent before. He said the note had been + received at the door by the maid who had said that Madame d'Aranjuez would ring when + her answer was ready. Orsino dismissed the servant and waited again. It crossed his + mind that the maid might have pocketed the note and said nothing about it, for + reasons of her own. He had almost determined to go upstairs and boldly enter the + sitting-room, when the door opposite to him opened and Maria Consuelo herself + appeared.</p> + <p>She was dressed in a dark close-fitting travelling costume, but she wore no hat. + Her face was quite colourless and looked if possible even more unnaturally pale by + contrast with her bright auburn hair. She shut the door behind her and stood still, + facing Orsino in the glare of the electric lights.</p> + <p>"I did not mean to see you again," she said, slowly. "You have forced me to + it."</p> + <p>Orsino made a step forward and tried to take her hand, but she drew back. The + slight uncertainty often visible in the direction of her glance had altogether + disappeared and her eyes met Orsino's directly and fearlessly.</p> + <p>"Yes," he answered. "I have forced you to it. I know it, and you cannot reproach + me if I have. I will not leave you. I am going with you wherever you go."</p> + <p>He spoke calmly, considering the great emotion he felt, and there was a quiet + determination in his words and tone which told how much he was in earnest. Maria + Consuelo half believed that she could dominate him by sheer force of will, and she + would not give up the idea, even now.</p> + <p>"You will not go with me, you will not even attempt it," she said.</p> + <p>It would have been difficult to guess from her face at that moment that she loved + him. Her face was pale and the expression was almost hard. She held her head high as + though she were looking down at him, though he towered above her from his + shoulders.</p> + <p>"You do not understand me," he answered, quietly. "When I say that I will go with + you, I mean that I will go."</p> + <p>"Is this a trial of strength?" she asked after a moment's pause.</p> + <p>"If it is, I am not conscious of it. It costs me no effort to go—it would + cost me much to stay behind—too much."</p> + <p>He stood quite still before her, looking steadily into her eyes. There was a short + silence, and then she suddenly looked down, moved and turned away, beginning to walk + slowly about. The room was large, and he paced the floor beside her, looking down at + her bent head.</p> + <p>"Will you stay if I ask you to?"</p> + <p>The question came in a lower and softer tone than she had used before.</p> + <p>"I will go with you," answered Orsino as firmly as ever.</p> + <p>"Will you do nothing for my asking?"</p> + <p>"I will do anything but that."</p> + <p>"But that is all I ask."</p> + <p>"You are asking the impossible."</p> + <p>"There are many reasons why you should not come with me. Have you thought of them + all?"</p> + <p>"No."</p> + <p>"You should. You ought to know, without being told by me, that you would be doing + me a great injustice and a great injury in following me. You ought to know what the + world will say of it. Remember that I am alone."</p> + <p>"I will marry you."</p> + <p>"I have told you that it is impossible—no, do not answer me! I will not go + over all that again. I am going away to-night. That is the principal thing—the + only thing that concerns you. Of course, if you choose, you can get into the same + train and pursue me to the end of the world. I cannot prevent you. I thought I could, + but I was mistaken. I am alone. Remember that, Orsino. You know as well as I what + will be said—and the fact is sure to be known."</p> + <p>"People will say that I am following you—"</p> + <p>"They will say that we are gone together, for every one will have reason to say + it. Do you suppose that nobody is aware of our—our intimacy during the last + month?"</p> + <p>"Why not say our love?"</p> + <p>"Because I hope no one knows of that—well, if they do—Orsino, be kind! + Let me go alone—as a man of honour, do not injure me by leaving Rome with me, + nor by following me when I am gone!"</p> + <p>She stopped and looked up into his face with an imploring glance. To tell the + truth, Orsino had not foreseen that she might appeal to his honour, alleging the + danger to her reputation. He bit his lip and avoided her eyes. It was hard to yield, + and to yield so quickly, as it seemed to him.</p> + <p>"How long will you stay away?" he asked in a constrained voice.</p> + <p>"I shall not come back at all."</p> + <p>He wondered at the firmness of her tone and manner. Whatever the real ground of + her resolution might be, the resolution itself had gained strength since they had + parted little more than an hour earlier. The belief suddenly grew upon him again that + she did not love him.</p> + <p>"Why are you going at all?" he asked abruptly. "If you loved me at all, you would + stay."</p> + <p>She drew a sharp breath and clasped her hands nervously together.</p> + <p>"I should stay if I loved you less. But I have told you—I will not go over + it all again. This must end—this saying good-bye! It is easier to end it at + once."</p> + <p>"Easier for you—"</p> + <p>"You do not know what you are saying. You will know some day. If you can bear + this, I cannot."</p> + <p>"Then stay—if you love me, as you say you do."</p> + <p>"As I say I do!"</p> + <p>Her eyes grew very grave and sad as she stopped and looked at him again. Then she + held out both her hands.</p> + <p>"I am going, now. Good-bye."</p> + <p>The blood came back to Orsino's face. It seemed to him that he had reached the + crisis of his life and his instinct was to struggle hard against his fate. With a + quick movement he caught her in his arms, lifting her from her feet and pressing her + close to him.</p> + <p>"You shall not go!"</p> + <p>He kissed her passionately again and again, while she fought to be free, straining + at his arms with her small white hands and trying to turn her face from him.</p> + <p>"Why do you struggle? It is of no use." He spoke in very soft deep tones, close to + her ear.</p> + <p>She shook her head desperately and still did her best to slip from him, though she + might as well have tried to break iron clamps with her fingers.</p> + <p>"It is of no use," he repeated, pressing her still more closely to him.</p> + <p>"Let me go!" she cried, making a violent effort, as fruitless as the last.</p> + <p>"No!"</p> + <p>Then she was quite still, realising that she had no chance with him.</p> + <p>"Is it manly to be brutal because you are strong?" she asked. "You hurt me."</p> + <p>Orsino's arms relaxed, and he let her go. She drew a long breath and moved a step + backward and towards the door.</p> + <p>"Good-bye," she said again. But this time she did not hold out her hand, though + she looked long and fixedly into his face.</p> + <p>Orsino made a movement as though he would have caught her again. She started and + put out her hand behind her towards the latch. But he did not touch her. She softly + opened the door, looked at him once more and went out.</p> + <p>When he realised that she was gone he sprang after her, calling her by name.</p> + <p>"Consuelo!"</p> + <p>There were a few people walking in the broad passage. They stared at Orsino, but + he did not heed them as he passed by. Maria Consuelo was not there, and he understood + in a moment that it would be useless to seek her further. He stood still a moment, + entered the reading-room again, got his hat and left the hotel without looking behind + him.</p> + <p>All sorts of wild ideas and schemes flashed through his brain, each more absurd + and impracticable than the last. He thought of going back and finding Maria + Consuelo's maid—he might bribe her to prevent her mistress's departure. He + thought of offering the driver of the train an enormous sum to do some injury to his + engine before reaching the first station out of Rome. He thought of stopping Maria + Consuelo's carriage on her way to the tram and taking her by main force to his + father's house. If she were compromised in such a way, she would be almost obliged to + marry him. He afterwards wondered at the stupidity of his own inventions on that + evening, but at the time nothing looked impossible.</p> + <p>He bethought him of Spicca. Perhaps the old man possessed some power over his + daughter after all and could prevent her flight if he chose. There were yet nearly + two hours left before the train started. If worst came to worst, Orsino could still + get to the station at the last minute and leave Rome with her.</p> + <p>He took a passing cab and drove to Spicca's lodgings. The count was at home, + writing a letter by the light of a small lamp. He looked up in surprise as Orsino + entered, then rose and offered him a chair.</p> + <p>"What has happened, my friend?" he asked, glancing curiously at the young man's + face.</p> + <p>"Everything," answered Orsino. "I love Madame d'Aranjuez, she loves me, she + absolutely refuses to marry me and she is going to Paris at a quarter to ten. I know + she is your daughter and I want you to prevent her from leaving. That is all, I + believe."</p> + <p>Spicca's cadaverous face did not change, but the hollow eyes grew bright and fixed + their glance on an imaginary point at an immense distance, and the thin hand that lay + on the edge of the table closed slowly upon the projecting wood. For a few moments he + said nothing, but when he spoke he seemed quite calm.</p> + <p>"If she has told you that she is my daughter," he said, "I presume that she has + told you the rest. Is that true?"</p> + <p>Orsino was impatient for Spicca to take some immediate action, but he understood + that the count had a right to ask the question.</p> + <p>"She has told me that she does not know her mother's name, and that you killed her + husband."</p> + <p>"Both these statements are perfectly true at all events. Is that all you + know?"</p> + <p>"All? Yes—all of importance. But there is no time to be lost. No one but you + can prevent her from leaving Rome to-night. You must help me quickly."</p> + <p>Spicca looked gravely at Orsino and shook his head. The light that had shone in + his eyes for a moment was gone, and he was again his habitual, melancholy, + indifferent self.</p> + <p>"I cannot stop her," he said, almost listlessly.</p> + <p>"But you can—you will, you must!" cried Orsino laying a hand on the old + man's thin arm. "She must not go—"</p> + <p>"Better that she should, after all. Of what use is it for her to stay? She is + quite right. You cannot marry her."</p> + <p>"Cannot marry her? Why not? It is not long since you told me very plainly that you + wished I would marry her. You have changed your mind very suddenly, it seems to me, + and I would like to know why. Do you remember all you said to me?"</p> + <p>"Yes, and I was in earnest, as I am now. And I was wrong in telling you what I + thought at the time."</p> + <p>"At the time! How can matters have changed so suddenly?"</p> + <p>"I do not say that matters have changed. I have. That is the important thing. I + remember the occasion of our conversation very well. Madame d'Aranjuez had been + rather abrupt with, me, and you and I went away together. I forgave her easily + enough, for I saw that she was unhappy—then I thought how different her life + might be if she were married to you. I also wished to convey to you a warning, and it + did not strike me that you would ever seriously contemplate such a marriage."</p> + <p>"I think you are in a certain way responsible for the present situation," answered + Orsino. "That is the reason why I come to you for help."</p> + <p>Spicca turned upon the young man rather suddenly.</p> + <p>"There you go too far," he said. "Do you mean to tell me that you have asked that + lady to marry you because I suggested it?"</p> + <p>"No, but—"</p> + <p>"Then I am not responsible at all. Besides, you might have consulted me again, if + you had chosen. I have not been out of town. I sincerely wish that it were + possible—yes, that is quite another matter. But it is not. If Madame d'Aranjuez + thinks it is not, from her point of view there are a thousand reasons why I should + consider it far more completely out of the question. As for preventing her from + leaving Rome I could not do that even were I willing to try."</p> + <p>"Then I will go with her," said Orsino, angrily.</p> + <p>Spicca looked at him in silence for a few moments. Orsino rose to his feet and + prepared to go.</p> + <p>"You leave me no choice," he said, as though Spicca had protested.</p> + <p>"Because I cannot and will not stop her? Is that any reason why you should + compromise her reputation as you propose to do?"</p> + <p>"It is the best of reasons. She will marry me then, out of necessity."</p> + <p>Spicca rose also, with more alacrity than generally characterised his movements. + He stood before the empty fireplace, watching the young man narrowly.</p> + <p>"It is not a good reason," he said, presently, in quiet tones. "You are not the + man to do that sort of thing. You are too honourable."</p> + <p>"I do not see anything dishonourable in following the woman I love."</p> + <p>"That depends on the way in which you follow her. If you go quietly home to-night + and write to your father that you have decided to go to Paris for a few days and will + leave to-morrow, if you make your arrangements like a sensible being and go away like + a sane man, I have nothing to say in the matter—"</p> + <p>"I presume not—" interrupted Orsino, facing the old man somewhat + fiercely.</p> + <p>"Very well. We will not quarrel yet. We will reserve that pleasure for the moment + when you cease to understand me. That way of following her would be bad enough, but + no one would have any right to stop you."</p> + <p>"No one has any right to stop me, as it is."</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon. The present circumstances are different. In the first instance + the world would say that you were in love with Madame d'Aranjuez and were pursuing + her to press your suit—of whatever nature that might be. In the second case the + world will assert that you and she, not meaning to be married, have adopted the + simple plan of going away together. That implies her consent, and you have no right + to let any one imply that. I say, it is not honourable to let people think that a + lady is risking her reputation for you and perhaps sacrificing it altogether, when + she is in reality trying to escape from you. Am I right, or not?"</p> + <p>"You are ingenious, at all events. You talk as though the whole world were to know + in half an hour that I have gone to Paris in the same train with Madame d'Aranjuez. + That is absurd!"</p> + <p>"Is it? I think not. Half an hour is little, perhaps, but half a day is enough. + You are not an insignificant son of an unknown Roman citizen, nor is Madame + d'Aranjuez a person who passes unnoticed. Reporters watch people like you for items + of news, and you are perfectly well known by sight. Apart from that, do you think + that your servants will not tell your friends' servants of your sudden departure, or + that Madame d'Aranjuez' going will not be observed? You ought to know Rome better + than that. I ask you again, am I right or wrong?"</p> + <p>"What difference will it make, if we are married immediately?"</p> + <p>"She will never marry you. I am convinced of that."</p> + <p>"How can you know? Has she spoken to you about it?"</p> + <p>"I am the last person to whom she would come."</p> + <p>"Her own father—"</p> + <p>"With limitations. Besides, I had the misfortune to deprive her of the chosen + companion of her life, and at a critical moment. She has not forgotten that."</p> + <p>"No she has not," answered Orsino gloomily. The memory of Aranjuez was a sore + point. "Why did you kill him?" he asked, suddenly.</p> + <p>"Because he was an adventurer, a liar and a thief—three excellent reasons + for killing any man, if one can. Moreover he struck her once—with that silver + paper cutter which she insists on using—and I saw it from a distance. Then I + killed him. Unluckily I was very angry and made a little mistake, so that he lived + twelve hours, and she had time to get a priest and marry him. She always pretends + that he struck her in play, by accident, as he was showing her something about + fencing. I was in the next room and the door was open—it did not look like + play. And she still thinks that he was the paragon of all virtues. He was a handsome + devil—something like you, but shorter, with a bad eye. I am glad I killed + him."</p> + <p>Spicca had looked steadily at Orsino while speaking. When he ceased, he began to + walk about the small room with something of his old energy. Orsino roused himself. He + had almost begun to forget his own position in the interest of listening to the + count's short story.</p> + <p>"So much for Aranjuez," said Spicca. "Let us hear no more of him. As for this mad + plan of yours, you are convinced, I suppose, and you will give it up. Go home and + decide in the morning. For my part, I tell you it is useless. She will not marry you. + Therefore leave her alone and do nothing which can injure her."</p> + <p>"I am not convinced," answered Orsino doggedly.</p> + <p>"Then you are not your father's son. No Saracinesca that I ever knew would do what + you mean to do—would wantonly tarnish the good name of a woman—of a woman + who loves him too—and whose only fault is that she cannot marry him."</p> + <p>"That she will not."</p> + <p>"That she cannot."</p> + <p>"Do you give me your word that she cannot?"</p> + <p>"She is legally free to marry whom she pleases, with or without my consent."</p> + <p>"That is all I want to know. The rest is nothing to me—"</p> + <p>"The rest is a great deal. I beg you to consider all I have said, and I am sure + that you will, quite sure. There are very good reasons for not telling you or any one + else all the details I know in this story—so good that I would rather go to the + length of a quarrel with you than give them all. I am an old man, Orsino, and what is + left of life does not mean much to me. I will sacrifice it to prevent your opening + this door unless you tell me that you give up the idea of leaving Rome to-night."</p> + <p>As he spoke he placed himself before the closed door and faced the young man. He + was old, emaciated, physically broken down, and his hands were empty. Orsino was in + his first youth, tall, lean, active and very strong, and no coward. He was moreover + in an ugly humour and inclined to be violent on much smaller provocation than he had + received. But Spicca imposed upon him, nevertheless, for he saw that he was in + earnest. Orsino was never afterwards able to recall exactly what passed through his + mind at that moment. He was physically able to thrust Spicca aside and to open the + door, without so much as hurting him. He did not believe that, even in that case, the + old man would have insisted upon the satisfaction of arms, nor would he have been + afraid to meet him if a duel had been required. He knew that what withheld him from + an act of violence was neither fear nor respect for his adversary's weakness and age. + Yet he was quite unable to define the influence which at last broke down his + resolution. It was in all probability only the resultant of the argument Spicca had + brought to bear and which Maria Consuelo had herself used in the first instance, and + of Spicca's calm, undaunted personality.</p> + <p>The crisis did not last long. The two men faced each other for ten seconds and + then Orsino turned away with an impatient movement of the shoulders.</p> + <p>"Very well," he said. "I will not go with her."</p> + <p>"It is best so," answered Spicca, leaving the door and returning to his seat.</p> + <p>"I suppose that she will let you know where she is, will she not?" asked + Orsino.</p> + <p>"Yes. She will write to me."</p> + <p>"Good-night, then."</p> + <p>"Good-night."</p> + <p>Without shaking hands, and almost without a glance at the old man, Orsino left the + room.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXIV" name='CHAPTER_XXIV'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino walked slowly homeward, trying to collect his thoughts and to reach some + distinct determination with regard to the future. He was oppressed by the sense of + failure and disappointment and felt inclined to despise himself for his weakness in + yielding so easily. To all intents and purposes he had lost Maria Consuelo, and if he + had not lost her through his own fault, he had at least tamely abandoned what had + seemed like a last chance of winning her back. As he thought of all that had happened + he tried to fix some point in the past, at which he might have acted differently, and + from which another act of consequence might have begun. But that was not easy. Events + had followed each other with a certain inevitable logic, which only looked + unreasonable because he suspected the existence of facts beyond his certain + knowledge. His great mistake had been in going to Spicca, but nothing could have been + more natural, under the circumstances, than his appeal to Maria Consuelo's father, + nothing more unexpected than the latter's determined refusal to help him. That there + was weight in the argument used by both Spicca and Maria Consuelo herself, he could + not deny; but he failed to see why the marriage was so utterly impossible as they + both declared it to be. There must be much more behind the visible circumstances than + he could guess.</p> + <p>He tried to comfort himself with the assurance that he could leave Rome on the + following day, and that Spicca would not refuse to give him Maria Consuelo's address + in Paris. But the consolation he derived from the idea was small. He found himself + wondering at the recklessness shown by the woman he loved in escaping from him. His + practical Italian mind could hardly understand how she could have changed all her + plans in a moment, abandoning her half-furnished apartment without a word of notice + even to the workmen, throwing over her intention of spending the winter in Rome as + though she had not already spent many thousands in preparing her dwelling, and going + away, probably, without as much as leaving a representative to wind up her accounts. + It may seem strange that a man as much in love as Orsino was should think of such + details at such a moment. Perhaps he looked upon them rather as proofs that she meant + to come back after all; in any case he thought of them seriously, and even calculated + roughly the sum she would be sacrificing if she stayed away.</p> + <p>Beyond all he felt the dismal loneliness which a man can only feel when he is + suddenly and effectually parted from the woman he dearly loves, and which is not like + any other sensation of which the human heart is capable.</p> + <p>More than once, up to the last possible moment, he was tempted to drive to the + station and leave with Maria Consuelo after all, but he would not break the promise + he had given Spicca, no matter how weak he had been in giving it.</p> + <p>On reaching his home he was informed, to his great surprise, that San Giacinto was + waiting to see him. He could not remember that his cousin had ever before honoured + him with a visit and he wondered what could have brought him now and induced him to + wait, just at the hour when most people were at dinner.</p> + <p>The giant was reading the evening paper, with the help of a particularly strong + cigar.</p> + <p>"I am glad you have come home," he said, rising and taking the young man's + outstretched hand. "I should have waited until you did."</p> + <p>"Has anything happened?" asked Orsino nervously. It struck him that San Giacinto + might be the bearer of some bad news about his people, and the grave expression on + the strongly marked face helped the idea.</p> + <p>"A great deal is happening. The crash has begun. You must get out of your business + in less than three days if you can."</p> + <p>Orsino drew a breath of relief at first, and then grew grave in his turn, + realising that unless matters were very serious such a man as San Giacinto would not + put himself to the inconvenience of coming. San Giacinto was little given to offering + advice unasked, still less to interfering in the affairs of others.</p> + <p>"I understand," said Orsino. "You think that everything is going to pieces. I + see."</p> + <p>The big man looked at his young cousin with something like pity.</p> + <p>"If I only suspected, or thought—as you put it—that there was to be a + collapse of business, I should not have taken the trouble to warn you. The crash has + actually begun. If you can save yourself, do so at once."</p> + <p>"I think I can," answered the young man, bravely. But he did not at all see how + his salvation was to be accomplished. "Can you tell me a little more definitely what + is the matter? Have there been any more failures to-day?"</p> + <p>"My brother-in-law Montevarchi is on the point of stopping payment," said San + Giacinto calmly.</p> + <p>"Montevarchi!"</p> + <p>Orsino did not conceal his astonishment.</p> + <p>"Yes. Do not speak of it. And he is in precisely the same position, so far as I + can judge of your affairs, as you yourself, though of course he has dealt with sums + ten times as great. He will make enormous sacrifices and will pay, I suppose, after + all. But he will be quite ruined. He also has worked with Del Fence's bank."</p> + <p>"And the bank refuses to discount any more of his paper?"</p> + <p>"Precisely. Since this afternoon."</p> + <p>"Then it will refuse to discount mine to-morrow."</p> + <p>"Have you acceptances due to-morrow?"</p> + <p>"Yes—not much, but enough to make the trouble. It will be Saturday, too, and + we must have money for the workmen."</p> + <p>"Have you not even enough in reserve for that?"</p> + <p>"Perhaps. I cannot tell. Besides, if the bank refuses to renew I cannot draw a + cheque."</p> + <p>"I am sorry for you. If I had known yesterday how near the end was, I would have + warned you."</p> + <p>"Thanks. I am grateful as it is. Can you give me any advice?"</p> + <p>Orsino had a vague idea that his rich cousin would generously propose to help him + out of his difficulties. He was not quite sure whether he could bring himself to + accept such assistance, but he more than half expected that it would be offered. In + this, however, he was completely mistaken. San Giacinto had not the smallest + intention of offering anything more substantial than his opinion. Considering that + his wife's brother's liabilities amounted to something like five and twenty millions, + this was not surprising. The giant bit his cigar and folded his long arms over his + enormous chest, leaning back in the easy chair which creaked under his weight.</p> + <p>"You have tried yourself in business by this time, Orsino," he said, "and you know + as well as I what there is to be done. You have three modes of action open to you. + You can fail. It is a simple affair enough. The bank will take your buildings for + what they will be worth a few months hence, on the day of liquidation. There will be + a big deficit, which your father will pay for you and deduct from your share of the + division at his death. That is one plan, and seems to me the best. It is perfectly + honourable, and you lose by it. Secondly, you can go to your father to-morrow and ask + him to lend you money to meet your acceptances and to continue the work until the + houses are finished and can be sold. They will ultimately go for a quarter of their + value, if you can sell them at all within the year, and you will be in your father's + debt, exactly as in the other case. You would avoid the publicity of a failure, but + it would cost you more, because the houses will not be worth much more when they are + finished than they are now."</p> + <p>"And the third plan—what is it?" inquired Orsino.</p> + <p>"The third way is this. You can go to Del Ferice, and if you are a diplomatist you + may persuade him that it is in his interest not to let you fail. I do not think you + will succeed, but you can try. If he agrees it will be because he counts on your + father to pay in the end, but it is questionable whether Del Ferice's bank can afford + to let out any more cash at the present moment. Money is going to be very tight, as + they say."</p> + <p>Orsino smoked in silence, pondering over the situation. San Giacinto rose.</p> + <p>"You are warned, at all events," he said. "You will find a great change for the + worse in the general aspect of things to-morrow."</p> + <p>"I am much obliged for the warning," answered Orsino. "I suppose I can always find + you if I need your advice—and you will advise me?"</p> + <p>"You are welcome to my advice, such as it is, my dear boy. But as for me, I am + going towards Naples to-night on business, and I may not be back again for a day or + two. If you get into serious trouble before I am here again, you should go to your + father at once. He knows nothing of business, and has been sensible enough to keep + out of it. The consequence is that he is as rich as ever, and he would sacrifice a + great deal rather than see your name dragged into the publicity of a failure. + Good-night, and good luck to you."</p> + <p>Thereupon the Titan shook Orsino's hand in his mighty grip and went away. As a + matter of fact he was going down to look over one of Montevarchi's biggest estates + with a view to buying it in the coming cataclysm, but it would not have been like him + to communicate the smallest of his intentions to Orsino, or to any one, not excepting + his wife and his lawyer.</p> + <p>Orsino was left to his own devices and meditations. A servant came in and inquired + whether he wished to dine at home, and he ordered strong coffee by way of a meal. He + was at the age when a man expects to find a way out of his difficulties in an + artificial excitement of the nerves.</p> + <p>Indeed, he had enough to disturb him, for it seemed as though all possible + misfortunes had fallen upon him at once. He had suffered on the same day the greatest + shock to his heart, and the greatest blow to his vanity which he could conceive + possible. Maria Consuelo was gone and the failure of his business was apparently + inevitable. When he tried to review the three plans which San Giacinto had suggested, + he found himself suddenly thinking of the woman he loved and making schemes for + following her; but so soon as he had transported himself in imagination to her side + and was beginning to hope that he might win her back, he was torn away and plunged + again into the whirlpool of business at home, struggling with unheard of difficulties + and sinking deeper at every stroke.</p> + <p>A hundred times he rose from his chair and paced the floor impatiently, and a + hundred times he threw himself down again, overcome by the hopelessness of the + situation. Occasionally he found a little comfort in the reflexion that the night + could not last for ever. When the day came he would be driven to act, in one way or + another, and he would be obliged to consult his partner, Contini. Then at last his + mind would be able to follow one connected train of thought for a time, and he would + get rest of some kind.</p> + <p>Little by little, however, and long before the day dawned, the dominating + influence asserted itself above the secondary one and he was thinking only of Maria + Consuelo. Throughout all that night she was travelling, as she would perhaps travel + throughout all the next day and the second night succeeding that. For she was strong + and having once determined upon the journey would very probably go to the end of it + without stopping to rest. He wondered whether she too were waking through all those + long hours, thinking of what she had left behind, or whether she had closed her eyes + and found the peace of sleep for which he longed in vain. He thought of her face, + softly lighted by the dim lamp of the railway carriage, and fancied he could actually + see it with the delicate shadows, the subdued richness of colour, the settled look of + sadness. When the picture grew dim, he recalled it by a strong effort, though he knew + that each time it rose before his eyes he must feel the same sharp thrust of pain, + followed by the same dull wave of hopeless misery which had ebbed and flowed again so + many times since he had parted from her.</p> + <p>At last he roused himself, looked about him as though he were in a strange place, + lighted a candle and betook himself to his own quarters. It was very late, and he was + more tired than he knew, for in spite of all his troubles he fell asleep and did not + awake till the sun was streaming into the room.</p> + <p>Some one knocked at the door, and a servant announced that Signor Contini was + waiting to see Don Orsino. The man's face expressed a sort of servile surprise when + he saw that Orsino had not undressed for the night and had been sleeping on the + divan. He began to busy himself with the toilet things as though expecting Orsino to + take some thought for his appearance. But the latter was anxious to see Contini at + once, and sent for him.</p> + <p>The architect was evidently very much disturbed. He was as pale as though he had + just recovered from a long illness and he seemed to have grown suddenly emaciated + during the night. He spoke in a low, excited tone.</p> + <p>In substance he told Orsino what San Giacinto had said on the previous evening. + Things looked very black indeed, and Del Ferice's bank had refused to discount any + more of Prince Montevarchi's paper.</p> + <p>"And we must have money to-day," Contini concluded.</p> + <p>When he had finished speaking his excitement disappeared and he relapsed into the + utmost dejection. Orsino remained silent for some time and then lit a cigarette.</p> + <p>"You need not be so down-hearted, Contini," he said at last. "I shall not have any + difficulty in getting money—you know that. What I feel most is the moral + failure."</p> + <p>"What is the moral failure to me?" asked Contini gloomily. "It is all very well to + talk of getting money. The bank will shut its tills like a steel trap and to-day is + Saturday, and there are the workmen and others to be paid, and several bills due into + the bargain. Of course your family can give you millions—in time. But we need + cash to-day. That is the trouble."</p> + <p>"I suppose the state telegraph is not destroyed because Prince Montevarchi cannot + meet his acceptances," observed Orsino. "And I imagine that our steward here in the + house has enough cash for our needs, and will not hesitate to hand it to me if he + receives a telegram from my father ordering him to do so. Whether he has enough to + take up the bills or not, I do not know; but as to-day is Saturday we have all day + to-morrow to make arrangements. I could even go out to Saracinesca and be back on + Monday morning when the bank opens."</p> + <p>"You seem to take a hopeful view."</p> + <p>"I have not the least hope of saving the business. But the question of ready money + does not of itself disturb me."</p> + <p>This was undoubtedly true, but it was also undeniable that Orsino now looked upon + the prospect of failure with more equanimity than on the previous evening. On the + other hand he felt even more keenly than before all the pain of his sudden separation + from Maria Consuelo. When a man is assailed, by several misfortunes at once, + twenty-four hours are generally enough to sift the small from the great and to show + him plainly which is the greatest of all.</p> + <p>"What shall we do this morning?" inquired Contini.</p> + <p>"You ask the question as though you were going to propose a picnic," answered + Orsino. "I do not see why this morning need be so different from other mornings."</p> + <p>"We must stop the works instantly—"</p> + <p>"Why? At all events we will change nothing until we find out the real state of + business. The first thing to be done is to go to the bank as usual on Saturdays. We + shall then know exactly what to do."</p> + <p>Contini shook his head gloomily and went away to wait in another room while Orsino + dressed. An hour later they were at the bank. Contini grew paler than ever. The head + clerk would of course inform them that no more bills would be discounted, and that + they must meet those already out when they fell due. He would also tell them that the + credit balance of their account current would not be at their disposal until their + acceptances were met. Orsino would probably at last believe that the situation was + serious, though he now looked so supremely and scornfully indifferent to events.</p> + <p>They waited some time. Several men were engaged in earnest conversation, and their + faces told plainly enough that they were in trouble. The head clerk was standing with + them, and made a sign to Orsino, signifying that they would soon go. Orsino watched + him. From time to time he shook his head and made gestures which indicated his utter + inability to do anything for them. Contini's courage sank lower and lower.</p> + <p>"I will ask for Del Ferice at once," said Orsino.</p> + <p>He accordingly sought out one of the men who wore the bank's livery and told him + to take his card to the count.</p> + <p>"The Signor Commendatore is not coming this morning," answered the man + mysteriously.</p> + <p>Orsino went back to the head clerk, interrupting his conversation with the others. + He inquired if it were true that Del Ferice were not coming.</p> + <p>"It is not probable," answered the clerk with a grave face. "They say that the + Signora Contessa is not likely to live through the day."</p> + <p>"Is Donna Tullia ill?" asked Orsino in considerable astonishment.</p> + <p>"She returned from Naples yesterday morning, and was taken ill in the + afternoon—it is said to be apoplexy," he added in a low voice. "If you will + have patience Signor Principe, I will be at your disposal in five minutes."</p> + <p>Orsino was obliged to be satisfied and sat down again by Contini. He told him the + news of Del Ferice's wife.</p> + <p>"That will make matters worse," said Contini.</p> + <p>"It will not improve them," answered Orsino indifferently. "Considering the state + of affairs I would like to see Del Ferice before speaking with any of the + others."</p> + <p>"Those men are all involved with Prince Montevarchi," observed Contini, watching + the group of which the head clerk was the central figure. "You can see by their faces + what they think of the business. The short, grey haired man is the steward—the + big man is the architect. The others are contractors. They say it is not less than + thirty millions."</p> + <p>Orsino said nothing. He was thinking of Maria Consuelo and wishing that he could + get away from Rome that night, while admitting that there was no possibility of such + a thing. Meanwhile the head clerk's gestures to his interlocutors expressed more and + more helplessness. At last they went out in a body.</p> + <p>"And now I am at your service, Signor Principe," said the grave man of business + coming up to Orsino and Contini. "The usual accommodation, I suppose? We will just + look over the bills and make out the new ones. It will not take ten minutes. The + usual cash, I suppose, Signor Principe? Yes, to-day is Saturday and you have your men + to pay. Quite as usual, quite as usual. Will you come into my office?"</p> + <p>Orsino looked at Contini, and Contini looked at Orsino, grasping the back of a + chair to steady himself.</p> + <p>"Then there is no difficulty about discounting?" stammered Contini, turning his + face, now suddenly flushed, towards the clerk.</p> + <p>"None whatever," answered the latter with an air of real or affected surprise. "I + have received the usual instructions to let Andrea Contini and Company have all the + money they need."</p> + <p>He turned and led the way to his private office. Contini walked unsteadily. Orsino + showed no astonishment, but his black eyes grew a little brighter than usual as he + anticipated his next interview with San Giacinto. He readily attributed his good + fortune to the supposed well-known prosperity of the firm, and he rose in his own + estimation. He quite forgot that Contini, who had now lost his head, had but + yesterday clearly foreseen the future when he had said that Del Ferice would not let + the two partners fail until they had fitted the last door and the last window in the + last of their houses. The conclusion had struck him as just at the time. Contini was + the first to recall it.</p> + <p>"It will turn out, as I said," he began, when they were driving to their office in + a cab after leaving the bank. "He will let us live until we are worth eating."</p> + <p>"We will arrange matters on a firmer basis before that," answered Orsino + confidently. "Poor old Donna Tullia! Who would have thought that she could die! I + will stop and ask for news as we pass."</p> + <p>He stopped the cab before the gilded gate of the detached house. Glancing up, he + saw that the shutters were closed. The porter came to the bars but did not show any + intention of opening.</p> + <p>"The Signora Contessa is dead," he said solemnly, in answer to Orsino's + inquiry.</p> + <p>"This morning?"</p> + <p>"Two hours ago."</p> + <p>Orsino's face grew grave as he left his card of condolence and turned away. He + could hardly have named a person more indifferent to him than poor Donna Tullia, but + he could not help feeling an odd regret at the thought that she was gone at last with + all her noisy vanity, her restless meddlesomeness and her perpetual chatter. She had + not been old either, though he called her so, and there had seemed to be still a + superabundance of life in her. There had been yet many years of rattling, useless, + social life before her. To-morrow she would have taken her last drive through + Rome—out through the gate of Saint Lawrence to the Campo Varano, there to wait + many years perhaps for the pale and half sickly Ugo, of whom every one had said for + years that he could not live through another twelve month with the disease of the + heart which threatened him. Of late, people had even begun to joke about Donna + Tullia's third husband. Poor Donna Tullia!</p> + <p>Orsino went to his office with Contini and forced himself through the usual round + of work. Occasionally he was assailed by a mad desire to leave Rome at once, but he + opposed it and would not yield. Though his affairs had gone well beyond his + expectation the present crisis made it impossible to abandon his business, unless he + could get rid of it altogether. And this he seriously contemplated. He knew however, + or thought he knew, that Contini would be ruined without him. His own name was the + one which gave the paper its value and decided Del Ferice to continue the advances of + money. The time was past when Contini would gladly have accepted his partner's share + of the undertaking, and would even have tried to raise funds to purchase it. To + retire now would be possible only if he could provide for the final liquidation of + the whole, and this he could only do by applying to his father or mother, in other + words by acknowledging himself completely beaten in his struggle for + independence.</p> + <p>The day ended at last and was succeeded by the idleness of Sunday. A sort of + listless indifference came over Orsino, the reaction, no doubt, after all the + excitement through which he had passed. It seemed to him that Maria Consuelo had + never loved him, and that it was better after all that she should be gone. He longed + for the old days, indeed, but as she now appeared to him in his meditations he did + not wish her back. He had no desire to renew the uncertain struggle for a love which + she denied in the end; and this mood showed, no doubt, that his own passion was less + violent than he had himself believed. When a man loves with his whole nature, + undividedly, he is not apt to submit to separations without making a strong effort to + reunite himself, by force, persuasion or stratagem, with the woman who is trying to + escape from him. Orsino was conscious of having at first felt the inclination to make + such an attempt even more strongly than he had shown it, but he was conscious also + that the interval of two days had been enough to reduce the wish to follow Maria + Consuelo in such a way that he could hardly understand having ever entertained + it.</p> + <p>Unsatisfied passion wears itself out very soon. The higher part of love may and + often does survive in such cases, and the passionate impulses may surge up after long + quiescence as fierce and dangerous as ever. But it is rarely indeed that two + unsatisfied lovers who have parted by the will of the one or of both can meet again + without the consciousness that the experimental separation has chilled feelings once + familiar and destroyed illusions once more than dear. In older times, perhaps, men + and women loved differently. There was more solitude in those days than now, for what + is called society was not invented, and people generally were more inclined to + sadness from living much alone. Melancholy is a great strengthener of faithfulness in + love. Moreover at that time the modern fight for life had not begun, men as a rule + had few interests besides love and war, and women no interests at all beyond love. We + moderns should go mad if we were suddenly forced to lead the lives led by knights and + ladies in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The monotonous round of such an + existence in time of peace would make idiots of us, the horrors of that old warfare + would make many of us maniacs. But it is possible that youths and maidens would love + more faithfully and wait longer for each other than they will or can to-day. It is + questionable whether Bayard would have understood a single page of a modern love + story, Tancred would certainly not have done so; but Caesar would have comprehended + our lives and our interests without effort, and Catullus could have described us as + we are, for one great civilization is very like another where the same races are + concerned.</p> + <p>In the days which followed Maria Consuelo's departure, Orsino came to a state of + indifference which surprised himself. He remembered that when she had gone away in + the spring he had scarcely missed her, and that he had not thought his own coldness + strange, since he was sure that he had not loved her then. But that he had loved her + now, during her last stay in Rome, he was sure, and he would have despised himself if + he had not been able to believe that he loved her still. Yet, if he was not glad that + she had quitted him, he was at least strangely satisfied at being left alone, and the + old fancy for analysis made him try to understand himself. The attempt was fruitless, + of course, but it occupied his thoughts.</p> + <p>He met Spicca in the street, and avoided him. He imagined that the old man must + despise him for not having resisted and followed Maria Consuelo after all. The + hypothesis was absurd and the conclusion vain, but he could not escape the idea, and + it annoyed him. He was probably ashamed of not having acted recklessly, as a man + should who is dominated by a master passion, and yet he was inwardly glad that he had + not been allowed to yield to the first impulse.</p> + <p>The days succeeded each other and a week passed away, bringing Saturday again and + the necessity for a visit to the bank. Business had been in a very bad state since it + had been known that Montevarchi was ruined. So far, he had not stopped payment and + although the bank refused discount he had managed to find money with which to meet + his engagements. Probably, as San Giacinto had foretold, he would pay everything and + remain a very poor man indeed. But, although many persons knew this, confidence was + not restored. Del Ferice declared that he believed Montevarchi solvent, as he + believed every one with whom his bank dealt to be solvent to the uttermost centime, + but that he could lend no more money to any one on any condition whatsoever, because + neither he nor the bank had any to lend. Every one, he said, had behaved honestly, + and he proposed to eclipse the honesty of every one by the frank acknowledgment of + his own lack of cash. He was distressed, he said, overcome by the sufferings of his + friends and clients, ready to sell his house, his jewelry and his very boots, in the + Roman phrase, to accommodate every one; but he was conscious that the demand far + exceeded any supply which he could furnish, no matter at what personal sacrifice, and + as it was therefore impossible to help everybody, it would be unjust to help a few + where all were equally deserving.</p> + <p>In the meanwhile he proved the will of his deceased wife, leaving him about four + and a half millions of francs unconditionally, and half a million more to be devoted + to some public charity at Ugo's discretion, for the repose of Donna Tullia's unquiet + spirit. It is needless to say that the sorrowing husband determined to spend the + legacy magnificently in the improvement of the town represented by him in parliament. + A part of the improvement would consist in a statue of Del Ferice + himself—representing him, perhaps, as he had escaped from Rome, in the garb of + a Capuchin friar, but with the addition of an army revolver to show that he had + fought for Italian unity, though when or where no man could tell. But it is worth + noting that while he protested his total inability to discount any one's bills, + Andrea Contini and Company regularly renewed their acceptances when due and signed + new ones for any amount of cash they required. The accommodation was accompanied with + a request that it should not be mentioned. Orsino took the money indifferently + enough, conscious that he had three fortunes at his back in case of trouble, but + Contini grew more nervous as time went on and the sums on paper increased in + magnitude, while the chances of disposing of the buildings seemed reduced to nothing + in the stagnation which had already set in.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXV" name='CHAPTER_XXV'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>At this time Count Spicca received a letter from Maria Consuelo, written from Nice + and bearing a postmark more recent than the date which headed the page, a fact which + proved that the writer had either taken an unusually long time in the composition or + had withheld the missive several days before finally despatching it.</p> + <p>"My father—I write to inform you of certain things which have recently taken + place and which it is important that you should know, and of which I should have the + right to require an explanation if I chose to ask it. Having been the author of my + life, you have made yourself also the author of all my unhappiness and of all my + trouble. I have never understood the cause of your intense hatred for me, but I have + felt its consequences, even at a great distance from you, and you know well enough + that I return it with all my heart. Moreover I have made up my mind that I will not + be made to suffer by you any longer. I tell you so quite frankly. This is a + declaration of war, and I will act upon it immediately.</p> + <p>"You are no doubt aware that Don Orsino Saracinesca has for a long time been among + my intimate friends. I will not discuss the question, whether I did well to admit him + to my intimacy or not. That, at least, does not concern you. Even admitting your + power to exercise the most complete tyranny over me in other ways, I am and have + always been free to choose my own acquaintances, and I am able to defend myself + better than most women, and as well as any. I will be just, too. I do not mean to + reproach you with the consequences of what I do. But I will not spare you where the + results of your action towards me are concerned.</p> + <p>"Don Orsino made love to me last spring. I loved him from the first. I can hear + your cruel laugh and see your contemptuous face as I write. But the information is + necessary, and I can bear your scorn because this is the last opportunity for such + diversion which I shall afford you, and because I mean that you shall pay dearly for + it. I loved Don Orsino, and I love him still. You, of course, have never loved. You + have hated, however, and perhaps one passion may be the measure of another. It is in + my case, I can assure you, for the better I love, the better I learn to hate you.</p> + <p>"Last Thursday Don Orsino asked me to be his wife. I had known for some time that + he loved me and I knew that he would speak of it before long. The day was sultry at + first and then there was a thunderstorm. My nerves were unstrung and I lost my head. + I told him that I loved him. That does not concern you. I told him, also, however, + that I had given a solemn promise to my dying husband, and I had still the strength + to say that I would not marry again. I meant to gain time, I longed to be alone, I + knew that I should yield, but I would not yield blindly. Thank God, I was strong. I + am like you in that, though happily not in any other way. You ask me why I should + even think of yielding. I answer that I love Don Orsino better than I loved the man + you murdered. There is nothing humiliating in that, and I make the confession without + reserve. I love him better, and therefore, being human, I would have broken my + promise and married him, had marriage been possible. But it is not, as you know. It + is one thing to turn to the priest as he stands by a dying man and to say, Pronounce + us man and wife, and give us a blessing, for the sake of this man's rest. The priest + knew that we were both free, and took the responsibility upon himself, knowing also + that the act could have no consequences in fact, whatever it might prove to be in + theory. It is quite another matter to be legally married to Don Orsino Saracinesca, + in the face of a strong opposition. But I went home that evening, believing that it + could be done and that the opposition would vanish. I believed because I loved. I + love still, but what I learned that night has killed my belief in an impossible + happiness.</p> + <p>"I need not tell you all that passed between me and Lucrezia Ferris. How she knew + of what had happened I cannot tell. She must have followed us to the apartment I was + furnishing, and she must have overheard what we said, or seen enough to convince her. + She is a spy. I suppose that is the reason why she is imposed upon me, and always has + been, since I can remember—since I was born, she says. I found her waiting to + dress me as usual, and as usual I did not speak to her. She spoke first. 'You will + not marry Don Orsino Saracinesca,' she said, facing me with her bad eyes. I could + have struck her, but I would not. I asked her what she meant. She told me that she + knew what I was doing, and asked me whether I was aware that I needed documents in + order to be married to a beggar in Rome, and whether I supposed that the Saracinesca + would be inclined to overlook the absence of such papers, or could pass a law of + their own abolishing the necessity for them, or, finally, whether they would accept + such certificates of my origin as she could produce. She showed me a package. She had + nothing better to offer me, she said, but such as she had, she heartily placed at my + disposal. I took the papers. I was prepared for a shock, but not for the blow I + received.</p> + <p>"You know what I read. The certificate of my birth as the daughter of Lucrezia + Ferris, unmarried, by Count Spicca who acknowledged the child as his—and the + certificate of your marriage with Lucrezia Ferris, dated—strangely enough a + fortnight after my birth—and further a document legitimizing me as the lawful + daughter of you two. All these documents are from Monte Carlo. You will understand + why I am in Nice. Yes—they are all genuine, every one of them, as I have had no + difficulty in ascertaining. So I am the daughter of Lucrezia Ferris, born out of + wedlock and subsequently whitewashed into a sort of legitimacy. And Lucrezia Ferris + is lawfully the Countess Spicca. Lucrezia Ferris, the cowardly spy-woman who more + than half controls my life, the lying, thieving servant—she robs me at every + turn—the common, half educated Italian creature,—she is my mother, she is + that radiant being of whom you sometimes speak with tears in your eyes, she is that + angel of whom I remind you, she is that sweet influence that softened and brightened + your lonely life for a brief space some three and twenty years ago! She has changed + since then.</p> + <p>"And this is the mystery of my birth which you have concealed from me, and which + it was at any moment in the power of my vile mother to reveal. You cannot deny the + fact, I suppose, especially since I have taken the trouble to search the registers + and verify each separate document.</p> + <p>"I gave them all back to her, for I shall never need them. The woman—I mean + my mother—was quite right. I shall not marry Don Orsino Saracinesca. You have + lied to me throughout my life. You have always told me that my mother was dead, and + that I need not be ashamed of my birth, though you wished it kept a secret. So far, I + have obeyed you. In that respect, and only in that, I will continue to act according + to your wishes. I am not called upon to proclaim to the world and my acquaintance + that I am the daughter of my own servant, and that you were kind enough to marry your + estimable mistress after my birth in order to confer upon me what you dignify by the + name of legitimacy. No. That is not necessary. If it could hurt you to proclaim it I + would do so in the most public way I could find. But it is folly to suppose that you + could be made to suffer by so simple a process.</p> + <p>"Are you aware, my father, that you have ruined all my life from the first? Being + so bad, you must be intelligent and you must realise what you have done, even if you + have done it out of pure love of evil. You pretended to be kind to me, until I was + old enough to feel all the pain you had in store for me. But even then, after you had + taken the trouble to marry my mother, why did you give me another name? Was that + necessary? I suppose it was. I did not understand then why my older companions looked + askance at me in the convent, nor why the nuns sometimes whispered together and + looked at me. They knew perhaps that no such name as mine existed. Since I was your + daughter why did I not bear your name when I was a little girl? You were ashamed to + let it be known that you were married, seeing what sort of wife you had taken, and + you found yourself in a dilemma. If you had acknowledged me as your daughter in + Austria, your friends in Rome would soon have found out my existence—and the + existence of your wife. You were very cautious in those days, but you seem to have + grown careless of late, or you would not have left those papers in the care of the + Countess Spicca, my maid—and my mother. I have heard that very bad men soon + reach their second childhood and act foolishly. It is quite true.</p> + <p>"Then, later, when you saw that I loved, and was loved, and was to be happy, you + came between my love and me. You appeared in your own character as a liar, a + slanderer and a traitor. I loved a man who was brave, honourable, + faithful—reckless, perhaps, and wild as such men are—but devoted and + true. You came between us. You told me that he was false, cowardly, an adventurer of + the worst kind. Because I would not believe you, and would have married him in spite + of you, you killed him. Was it cowardly of him to face the first swordsman in Europe? + They told me that he was not afraid of you, the men who saw it, and that he fought + you like a lion, as he was. And the provocation, too! He never struck me. He was + showing me what he meant by a term in fencing—the silver knife he held grazed + my cheek because I was startled and moved. But you meant to kill him, and you chose + to say that he had struck me. Did you ever hear a harsh word from his lips during + those months of waiting? When you had done your work you fled—like the murderer + you were and are. But I escaped from the woman who says she is my mother—and + is—and I went to him and found him living and married him. You used to tell me + that he was an adventurer and little better than a beggar. Yet he left me a large + fortune. It is as well that he provided for me, since you have succeeded in losing + most of your own money at play—doubtless to insure my not profiting by it at + your death. Not that you will die—men of your kind outlive their victims, + because they kill them.</p> + <p>"And now, when you saw—for you did see it—when you saw and knew that + Orsino Saracinesca and I loved each other, you have broken my life a second time. You + might so easily have gone to him, or have come to me, at the first, with the truth. + You know that I should never forgive you for what you had done already. A little more + could have made matters no worse then. You knew that Don Orsino would have thanked + you as a friend for the warning. Instead—I refuse to believe you in your dotage + after all—you make that woman spy upon me until the great moment is come, you + give her the weapons and you bid her strike when the blow will be most excruciating. + You are not a man. You are Satan. I parted twice from the man I love. He would not + let me go, and he came back and tried to keep me—I do not know how I escaped. + God helped me. He is so brave and noble that if he had held those accursed papers in + his hands and known all the truth he would not have given me up. He would have + brought a stain on his great name, and shame upon his great house for my sake. He is + not like you. I parted from him twice, I know all that I can suffer, and I hate you + for each individual suffering, great and small.</p> + <p>"I have dismissed my mother from my service. How that would sound in Rome! I have + given her as much money as she can expect and I have got rid of her. She said that + she would not go, that she would write to you, and many other things. I told her that + if she attempted to stay I would go to the authorities, prove that she was my mother, + provide for her, if the law required it and have her forcibly turned out of my house + by the aid of the same law. I am of age, married, independent, and I cannot be + obliged to entertain my mother either in the character of a servant, or as a visitor. + I suppose she has a right to a lodging under your roof. I hope she will take + advantage of it, as I advised her. She took the money and went away, cursing me. I + think that if she had ever, in all my life, shown the smallest affection for + me—even at the last, when she declared herself my mother, if she had shown a + spark of motherly feeling, of tenderness, of anything human, I could have accepted + her and tolerated her, half peasant woman as she is, spy as she has been, and cheat + and thief. But she stood before me with the most perfect indifference, watching my + surprise with those bad eyes of hers. I wonder why I have borne her presence so long. + I suppose it had never struck me that I could get rid of her, in spite of you, if I + chose. By the bye, I sent for a notary when I paid her, and I got a legal receipt + signed with her legal name, Lucrezia Spicca, <i>nata Ferris</i>. The document + formally releases me from all further claims. I hope you will understand that you + have no power whatsoever to impose her upon me again, though I confess that I am + expecting your next move with interest. I suppose that you have not done with me yet, + and have some new means of torment in reserve. Satan is rarely idle long.</p> + <p>"And now I have done. If you were not the villain you are, I should expect you to + go to the man whose happiness I have endangered, if not destroyed. I should expect + you to tell Don Orsino Saracinesca enough of the truth to make him understand my + action. But I know you far too well to imagine that you would willingly take from my + life one thorn of the many you have planted in it. I will write to Don Orsino myself. + I think you need not fear him—I am sorry that you need not. But I shall not + tell him more than is necessary. You will remember, I hope, that such discretion as I + may show, is not shown out of consideration for you, but out of forethought for my + own welfare. I have unfortunately no means of preventing you from writing to me, but + you may be sure that your letters will never be read, so that you will do as well to + spare yourself the trouble of composing them.</p> + <p>"MARIA CONSUELO D'ARANJUEZ."</p> + <p>Spicca received this letter early in the morning, and at mid-day he still sat in + his chair, holding it in his hand. His face was very white, his head hung forward + upon his breast, his thin fingers were stiffened upon the thin paper. Only the hardly + perceptible rise and fall of the chest showed that he still breathed.</p> + <p>The clocks had already struck twelve when his old servant entered the room, a + being thin, wizened, grey and noiseless as the ghost of a greyhound. He stood still a + moment before his master, expecting that he would look up, then bent anxiously over + him and felt his hands.</p> + <p>Spicca slowly raised his sunken eyes.</p> + <p>"It will pass, Santi—it will pass," he said feebly.</p> + <p>Then he began to fold up the sheets slowly and with difficulty, but very neatly, + as men of extraordinary skill with their hands do everything. Santi looked at him + doubtfully and then got a glass and a bottle of cordial from a small carved press in + the corner. Spicca drank the liqueur slowly and set the glass steadily upon the + table.</p> + <p>"Bad news, Signor Conte?" asked the servant anxiously, and in a way which betrayed + at once the kindly relations existing between the two.</p> + <p>"Very bad news," Spicca answered sadly and shaking his head.</p> + <p>Santi sighed, restored the cordial to the press and took up the glass, as though + he were about to leave the room. But he still lingered near the table, glancing + uneasily at his master as though he had something to say, but was hesitating to + begin.</p> + <p>"What is it, Santi?" asked the count.</p> + <p>"I beg your pardon, Signor Conte—you have had bad news—if you will + allow me to speak, there are several small economies which could still be managed + without too much inconveniencing you. Pardon the liberty, Signor Conte."</p> + <p>"I know, I know. But it is not money this time. I wish it were."</p> + <p>Santi's expression immediately lost much of its anxiety. He had shared his + master's fallen fortunes and knew better than he what he meant by a few more small + economies, as he called them.</p> + <p>"God be praised, Signor Conte," he said solemnly. "May I serve the breakfast?"</p> + <p>"I have no appetite, Santi. Go and eat yourself."</p> + <p>"A little something?" Santi spoke in a coaxing way. "I have prepared a little + mixed fry, with toast, as you like it, Signor Conte, and the salad is good + to-day—ham and figs are also in the house. Let me lay the cloth—when you + see, you will eat—and just one egg beaten up with a glass of red wine to + begin—that will dispose the stomach."</p> + <p>Spicca shook his head again, but Santi paid no attention to the refusal and went + about preparing the meal. When it was ready the old man suffered himself to be + persuaded and ate a little. He was in reality stronger than he looked, and an + extraordinary nervous energy still lurked beneath the appearance of a feebleness + almost amounting to decrepitude. The little nourishment he took sufficed to restore + the balance, and when he rose from the table, he was outwardly almost himself again. + When a man has suffered great moral pain for years, he bears a new shock, even the + worst, better than one who is hard hit in the midst of a placid and long habitual + happiness. The soul can be taught to bear trouble as the great self mortifiers of an + earlier time taught their bodies to bear scourging. The process is painful but + hardening.</p> + <p>"I feel better, Santi," said Spicca. "Your breakfast has done me good. You are an + excellent doctor."</p> + <p>He turned away and took out his pocket-book—not over well garnished. He + found a ten franc note. Then he looked round and spoke in a gentle, kindly tone.</p> + <p>"Santi—this trouble has nothing to do with money. You need a new pair of + shoes, I am sure. Do you think that ten francs is enough?"</p> + <p>Santi bowed respectfully and took the money.</p> + <p>"A thousand thanks, Signor Conte," he said.</p> + <p>Santi was a strange man, from the heart of the Abruzzi. He pocketed the note, but + that night, when he had undressed his master and was arranging the things on the + dressing table, the ten francs found their way back into the black pocket-book. + Spicca never counted, and never knew.</p> + <p>He did not write to Maria Consuelo, for he was well aware that in her present + state of mind she would undoubtedly burn his letter unopened, as she had said she + would. Late in the day he went out, walked for an hour, entered the club and read the + papers, and at last betook himself to the restaurant where Orsino dined when his + people were out of town.</p> + <p>In due time, Orsino appeared, looking pale and ill tempered. He caught sight of + Spicca and went at once to the table where he sat.</p> + <p>"I have had a letter," said the young man. "I must speak to you. If you do not + object, we will dine together."</p> + <p>"By all means. There is nothing like a thoroughly bad dinner to promote + ill-feeling."</p> + <p>Orsino glanced at the old man in momentary surprise. But he knew his ways + tolerably well, and was familiar with the chronic acidity of his speech.</p> + <p>"You probably guess who has written to me," Orsino resumed. "It was natural, + perhaps, that she should have something to say, but what she actually says, is more + than I was prepared to hear."</p> + <p>Spicca's eyes grew less dull and he turned an inquiring glance on his + companion.</p> + <p>"When I tell you that in this letter, Madame d'Aranjuez has confided to me the + true story of her origin, I have probably said enough," continued the young man.</p> + <p>"You have said too much or too little," Spicca answered in an almost indifferent + tone.</p> + <p>"How so?"</p> + <p>"Unless you tell me just what she has told you, or show me the letter, I cannot + possibly judge of the truth of the tale."</p> + <p>Orsino raised his head angrily.</p> + <p>"Do you mean me to doubt that Madame d'Aranjuez speaks the truth?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Calm yourself. Whatever Madame d'Aranjuez has written to you, she believes to be + true. But she may have been herself deceived."</p> + <p>"In spite of documents—public registers—"</p> + <p>"Ah! Then she has told you about those certificates?"</p> + <p>"That—and a great deal more which concerns you."</p> + <p>"Precisely. A great deal more. I know all about the registers, as you may easily + suppose, seeing that they concern two somewhat important acts in my own life and that + I was very careful to have those acts properly recorded, beyond the possibility of + denial—beyond the possibility of denial," he repeated very slowly and + emphatically. "Do you understand that?"</p> + <p>"It would not enter the mind of a sane person to doubt such evidence," answered + Orsino rather scornfully.</p> + <p>"No, I suppose not. As you do not therefore come to me for confirmation of what is + already undeniable, I cannot understand why you come to me at all in this matter, + unless you do so on account of other things which Madame d'Aranjuez has written you, + and of which you have so far kept me in ignorance."</p> + <p>Spicca spoke with a formal manner and in cold tones, drawing up his bent figure a + little. A waiter came to the table and both men ordered their dinner. The + interruption rather favoured the development of a hostile feeling between them, than + otherwise.</p> + <p>"I will explain my reasons for coming to find you here," said Orsino when they + were again alone.</p> + <p>"So far as I am concerned, no explanation is necessary. I am content not to + understand. Moreover, this is a public place, in which we have accidentally met and + dined together before."</p> + <p>"I did not come here by accident," answered Orsino. "And I did not come in order + to give explanations but to ask for one."</p> + <p>"Ah?" Spicca eyed him coolly.</p> + <p>"Yes. I wish to know why you have hated your daughter all her life, why you + persecute her in every way, why you—"</p> + <p>"Will you kindly stop?"</p> + <p>The old man's voice grew suddenly clear and incisive, and Orsino broke off in the + middle of his sentence. A moment's pause followed.</p> + <p>"I requested you to stop speaking," Spicca resumed, "because you were + unconsciously making statements which have no foundation whatever in fact. Observe + that I say, unconsciously. You are completely mistaken. I do not hate Madame + d'Aranjuez. I love her with all my heart and soul. I do not persecute her in every + way, nor in any way. On the contrary, her happiness is the only object of such life + as I still have to live, and I have little but that life left to give her. I am in + earnest, Orsino."</p> + <p>"I see you are. That makes what you say all the more surprising."</p> + <p>"No doubt it does. Madame d'Aranjuez has just written to you, and you have her + letter in your pocket. She has told you in that letter a number of facts in her own + life, as she sees them, and you look at them as she does. It is natural. To her and + to you, I appear to be a monster of evil, a hideous incarnation of cruelty, a devil + in short. Did she call me a devil in her letter?"</p> + <p>"She did."</p> + <p>"Precisely. She has also written to me, informing me that I am Satan. There is a + directness in the statement and a general disregard of probability which is not + without charm. Nevertheless, I am Spicca, and not Beelzebub, her assurances to the + contrary notwithstanding. You see how views may differ. You know much of her life, + but you know nothing of mine, nor is it my intention to tell you anything about + myself. But I will tell you this much. If I could do anything to mend matters, I + would. If I could make it possible for you to marry Madame d'Aranjuez—being + what you are, and fenced in as you are, I would. If I could tell you all the rest of + the truth, which she does not know, nor dream of, I would. I am bound by a very + solemn promise of secrecy—by something more than a promise in fact. Yet, if I + could do good to her by breaking oaths, betraying confidence and trampling on the + deepest obligations which can bind a man, I would. But that good cannot be done any + more. That is all I can tell you."</p> + <p>"It is little enough. You could, and you can, tell the whole truth, as you call + it, to Madame d'Aranjuez. I would advise you to do so, instead of embittering her + life at every turn."</p> + <p>"I have not asked for your advice, Orsino. That she is unhappy, I know. That she + hates me, is clear. She would not be the happier for hating me less, since nothing + else would be changed. She need not think of me, if the subject is disagreeable. In + all other respects she is perfectly free. She is young, rich, and at liberty to go + where she pleases and to do what she likes. So long as I am alive, I shall watch over + her—"</p> + <p>"And destroy every chance of happiness which presents itself," interrupted + Orsino.</p> + <p>"I gave you some idea, the other night, of the happiness she might have enjoyed + with the deceased Aranjuez. If I made a mistake in regard to what I saw him + do—I admit the possibility of an error—I was nevertheless quite right in + ridding her of the man. I have atoned for the mistake, if we call it so, in a way of + which you do not dream, nor she either. The good remains, for Aranjuez is + buried."</p> + <p>"You speak of secret atonement—I was not aware that you ever suffered from + remorse."</p> + <p>"Nor I," answered Spicca drily.</p> + <p>"Then what do you mean?"</p> + <p>"You are questioning me, and I have warned you that I will tell you nothing about + myself. You will confer a great favour upon me by not insisting."</p> + <p>"Are you threatening me again?"</p> + <p>"I am not doing anything of the kind. I never threaten any one. I could kill you + as easily as I killed Aranjuez, old and decrepit as I look, and I should be perfectly + indifferent to the opprobrium of killing so young a man—though I think that, + looking at us two, many people might suppose the advantage to be on your side rather + than on mine. But young men nowadays do not learn to handle arms. Short of laying + violent hands upon me, you will find it quite impossible to provoke me. I am almost + old enough to be your grandfather, and I understand you very well. You love Madame + d'Aranjuez. She knows that to marry you would be to bring about such a quarrel with + your family as might ruin half your life, and she has the rare courage to tell you so + and to refuse your offer. You think that I can do something to help you and you are + incensed because I am powerless, and furious because I object to your leaving Rome in + the same train with her, against her will. You are more furious still to-day because + you have adopted her belief that I am a monster of iniquity. Observe—that, + apart from hindering you from a great piece of folly the other day, I have never + interfered. I do not interfere now. As I said then, follow her if you please, + persuade her to marry you if you can, quarrel with all your family if you like. It is + nothing to me. Publish the banns of your marriage on the doors of the Capitol and + declare to the whole world that Madame d'Aranjuez, the future Princess Saracinesca, + is the daughter of Count Spicca and Lucrezia Ferris, his lawful wife. There will be a + little talk, but it will not hurt me. People have kept their marriages a secret for a + whole lifetime before now. I do not care what you do, nor what the whole tribe of the + Saracinesca may do, provided that none of you do harm to Maria Consuelo, nor bring + useless suffering upon her. If any of you do that, I will kill you. That at least is + a threat, if you like. Good-night."</p> + <p>Thereupon Spicca rose suddenly from his seat, leaving his dinner unfinished, and + went out.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXVI" name='CHAPTER_XXVI'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino did not leave Rome after all. He was not in reality prevented from doing so + by the necessity of attending to his business, for he might assuredly have absented + himself for a week or two at almost any time before the new year, without incurring + any especial danger. From time to time, at ever increasing intervals, he felt + strongly impelled to rejoin Maria Consuelo in Paris where she had ultimately + determined to spend the autumn and winter, but the impulse always lacked just the + measure of strength which would have made it a resolution. When he thought of his + many hesitations he did not understand himself and he fell in his own estimation, so + that he became by degrees more silent and melancholy of disposition than had + originally been natural with him.</p> + <p>He had much time for reflection and he constantly brooded over the situation in + which he found himself. The question seemed to be, whether he loved Maria Consuelo or + not, since he was able to display such apparent indifference to her absence. In + reality he also doubted whether he was loved by her, and the one uncertainty was + fully as great as the other.</p> + <p>He went over all that had passed. The position had never been an easy one, and the + letter which Maria Consuelo had written to him after her departure had not made it + easier. It had contained the revelations concerning her birth, together with many + references to Spicca's continued cruelty, plentifully supported by statements of + facts. She had then distinctly told Orsino that she would never marry him, under any + circumstances whatever, declaring that if he followed her she would not even see him. + She would not ruin his life and plunge him into a life long quarrel with his family, + she said, and she added that she would certainly not expose herself to such treatment + as she would undoubtedly receive at the hands of the Saracinesca if she married + Orsino without his parents' consent.</p> + <p>A man does not easily believe that he is deprived of what he most desires + exclusively for his own good and welfare, and the last sentence quoted wounded Orsino + deeply. He believed himself ready to incur the displeasure of all his people for + Maria Consuelo's sake, and he said in his heart that if she loved him she should be + ready to bear as much as he. The language in which she expressed herself, too, was + cold and almost incisive.</p> + <p>Unlike Spicca Orsino answered this letter, writing in an argumentative strain, + bringing the best reasons he could find to bear against those she alleged, and at + last reproaching her with not being willing to suffer for his sake a tenth part of + what he would endure for her. But he announced his intention of joining her before + long, and expressed the certainty that she would receive him.</p> + <p>To this Maria Consuelo made no reply for some time. When she wrote at last, it was + to say that she had carefully considered her decision and saw no good cause for + changing it. To Orsino her tone seemed colder and more distant than ever. The fact + that the pages were blotted here and there and that the handwriting was unsteady, was + probably to be referred to her carelessness. He brooded over his misfortune, thought + more than once of making a desperate effort to win back her love, and remained in + Rome. After a long interval he wrote to her again. This time he produced an epistle + which, under the circumstances, might have seemed almost ridiculous. It was full of + indifferent gossip about society, it contained a few sarcastic remarks about his own + approaching failure, with some rather youthfully cynical observations on the + instability of things in general and the hollowness of all aspirations + whatsoever.</p> + <p>He received no answer, and duly repented the flippant tone he had taken. He would + have been greatly surprised could he have learned that this last letter was destined + to produce a greater effect upon his life than all he had written before it.</p> + <p>In the meanwhile his father, who had heard of the increasing troubles in the world + of business, wrote him in a constant strain of warning, to which he paid little + attention. His mother's letters, too, betrayed her anxiety, but expressed what his + father's did not, to wit the most boundless confidence in his power to extricate + himself honourably from all difficulties, together with the assurance that if worst + came to worst she was always ready to help him.</p> + <p>Suddenly and without warning old Saracinesca returned from his wanderings. He had + taken the trouble to keep the family informed of his movements by his secretary + during two or three months and had then temporarily allowed them to lose sight of + him, thereby causing them considerable anxiety, though an occasional paragraph in a + newspaper reassured them from time to time. Then, on a certain afternoon in November, + he appeared, alone and in a cab, as though he had been out for a stroll.</p> + <p>"Well, my boy, are you ruined yet?" he inquired, entering Orsino's room without + ceremony.</p> + <p>The young man started from his seat and took the old gentleman's rough hand, with + an exclamation of surprise.</p> + <p>"Yes—you may well look at me," laughed the Prince. "I have grown ten years + younger. And you?" He pushed his grandson into the light and scrutinised his face + fiercely. "And you are ten years older," he concluded, in a discontented tone.</p> + <p>"I did not know it," answered Orsino with an attempt at a laugh.</p> + <p>"You have been at some mischief. I know it. I can see it."</p> + <p>He dropped the young fellow's arm, shook his head and began to move about the + room. Then he came back all at once and looked up into Orsino's face from beneath his + bushy eyebrows.</p> + <p>"Out with it, I mean to know!" he said, roughly but not unkindly. "Have you lost + money? Are you ill? Are you in love?"</p> + <p>Orsino would certainly have resented the first and the last questions, if not all + three, had they been put to him by his father. There was something in the old + Prince's nature, something warmer and more human, which appealed to his own. Sant' + Ilario was, and always had been, outwardly cold, somewhat measured in his speech, + undemonstrative, a man not easily moved to much expression or to real sympathy except + by love, but capable, under that influence, of going to great lengths. And Orsino, + though in some respects resembling his mother rather than his father, was not unlike + the latter, with a larger measure of ambition and less real pride. It was probably + the latter characteristic which made him feel the need of sympathy in a way his + father had never felt it and could never understand it, and he was thereby drawn more + closely to his mother and to his grandfather than to Sant' Ilario.</p> + <p>Old Saracinesca evidently meant to be answered, as he stood there gazing into + Orsino's eyes.</p> + <p>"A great deal has happened since you went away," said Orsino, half wishing that he + could tell everything. "In the first place, business is in a very bad state, and I am + anxious."</p> + <p>"Dirty work, business," grumbled Saracinesca. "I always told you so. Then you have + lost money, you young idiot! I thought so. Did you think you were any better than + Montevarchi? I hope you have kept your name out of the market, at all events. What in + the name of heaven made you put your hand to such filth! Come—how much do you + want? We will whitewash you and you shall start to-morrow and go round the + world."</p> + <p>"But I am not in actual need of money at all—"</p> + <p>"Then what the devil are you in need of?"</p> + <p>"An improvement in business, and the assurance that I shall not ultimately be + bankrupt."</p> + <p>"If money is not an assurance that you will not be bankrupt, I would like to learn + what is. All this is nonsense. Tell me the truth, my boy—you are in love. That + is the trouble."</p> + <p>Orsino shrugged his shoulders.</p> + <p>"I have been in love some time," he answered.</p> + <p>"Young? Old? Marriageable? Married? Out with it, I say!"</p> + <p>"I would rather talk about business. I think it is all over now."</p> + <p>"Just like your father—always full of secrets! As if I did not know all + about it. You are in love with that Madame d'Aranjuez."</p> + <p>Orsino turned a little pale.</p> + <p>"Please do not call her 'that' Madame d'Aranjuez," he said, gravely.</p> + <p>"Eh? What? Are you so sensitive about her?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"You are? Very well—I like that. What about her?"</p> + <p>"What a question!"</p> + <p>"I mean—is she indifferent, cold, in love with some one else?"</p> + <p>"Not that I am aware. She has refused to marry me and has left Rome, that is + all."</p> + <p>"Refused to marry you!" cried old Saracinesca in boundless astonishment. "My dear + boy, you must be out of your mind! The thing is impossible. You are the best match in + Rome. Madame d'Aranjuez refuse you—absolutely incredible, not to be believed + for a moment. You are dreaming. A widow—without much fortune—the relict + of some curious adventurer—a woman looking for a fortune, a woman—"</p> + <p>"Stop!" cried Orsino, savagely.</p> + <p>"Oh yes—I forgot. You are sensitive. Well, well, I meant nothing against + her, except that she must be insane if what you tell me is true. But I am glad of it, + my boy, very glad. She is no match for you, Orsino. I confess, I wish you would marry + at once. I would like to see my great grandchildren—but not Madame d'Aranjuez. + A widow, too."</p> + <p>"My father married a widow."</p> + <p>"When you find a widow like your mother, and ten years younger than yourself, + marry her if you can. But not Madame d'Aranjuez—older than you by several + years."</p> + <p>"A few years."</p> + <p>"Is that all? It is too much, though. And who is Madame d'Aranjuez? Everybody was + asking the question last winter. I suppose she had a name before she married, and + since you have been trying to make her your wife, you must know all about her. Who + was she?"</p> + <p>Orsino hesitated.</p> + <p>"You see!" cried, the old Prince. "It is not all right. There is a + secret—there is something wrong about her family, or about her entrance into + the world. She knows perfectly well that we would never receive her and has concealed + it all from you—"</p> + <p>"She has not concealed it. She has told me the exact truth. But I shall not repeat + it to you."</p> + <p>"All the stronger proof that everything is not right. You are well out of it, my + boy, exceedingly well out of it. I congratulate you."</p> + <p>"I would rather not be congratulated."</p> + <p>"As you please. I am sorry for you, if you are unhappy. Try and forget all about + it. How is your mother?"</p> + <p>At any other time Orsino would have laughed at the characteristic abruptness.</p> + <p>"Perfectly well, I believe. I have not seen her all summer," he answered + gravely.</p> + <p>"Not been to Saracinesca all summer! No wonder you look ill. Telegraph to them + that I have come back and let us get the family together as soon as possible. Do you + think I mean to spend six months alone in your company, especially when you are away + all day at that wretched office of yours? Be quick about it—telegraph at + once."</p> + <p>"Very well. But please do not repeat anything of what I have told you to my father + or my mother. That is the only thing I have to ask."</p> + <p>"Am I a parrot? I never talk to them of your affairs."</p> + <p>"Thanks. I am grateful."</p> + <p>"To heaven because your grandfather is not a parakeet! No doubt. You have good + cause. And look here, Orsino—"</p> + <p>The old man took Orsino's arm and held it firmly, speaking in a lower tone.</p> + <p>"Do not make an ass of yourself, my boy—especially in business. But if you + do—and you probably will, you know—just come to me, without speaking to + any one else. I will see what can be done without noise. There—take that, and + forget all about your troubles and get a little more colour into your face."</p> + <p>"You are too good to me," said Orsino, grasping the old Prince's hand. For once, + he was really moved.</p> + <p>"Nonsense—go and send that telegram at once. I do not want to be kept + waiting a week for a sight of my family."</p> + <p>With a deep, good humoured laugh he pushed Orsino out of the door in front of him + and went off to his own quarters.</p> + <p>In due time the family returned from Saracinesca and the gloomy old palace waked + to life again. Corona and her husband were both struck by the change in Orsino's + appearance, which indeed contrasted strongly with their own, refreshed and + strengthened as they were by the keen mountain air, the endless out-of-door life, the + manifold occupations of people deeply interested in the welfare of those around them + and supremely conscious of their own power to produce good results in their own way. + When they all came back, Orsino himself felt how jaded and worn he was as compared + with them.</p> + <p>Before twelve hours had gone by, he found himself alone with his mother. Strange + to say he had not looked forward to the interview with pleasure. The bond of sympathy + which had so closely united the two during the spring seemed weakened, and Orsino + would, if possible, have put off the renewal of intimate converse which he knew to be + inevitable. But that could not be done.</p> + <p>It would not be hard to find reasons for his wishing to avoid his mother. Formerly + his daily tale had been one of success, of hope, of ever increasing confidence. Now + he had nothing to tell of but danger and anxiety for the future, and he was not + without a suspicion that she would strongly disapprove of his allowing himself to be + kept afloat by Del Ferice's personal influence, and perhaps by his personal aid. It + was hard to begin daily intercourse on a basis of things so different from that which + had seemed solid and safe when they had last talked together. He had learned to bear + his own troubles bravely, too, and there was something which he associated with + weakness in the idea of asking sympathy for them now. He would rather have been left + alone.</p> + <p>Deep down, too, was the consciousness of all that had happened between himself and + Maria Consuelo since his mother's departure. Another suffering, another and + distinctly different misfortune, to be borne better in silence than under question + even of the most affectionate kind. His grandfather had indeed guessed at both truths + and had taxed him with them at once, but that was quite another matter. He knew that + the old gentleman would never refer again to what he had learned, and he appreciated + the generous offer of help, of which he would never avail himself, in a way in which + he could not appreciate an assistance even more lovingly proffered, perhaps, but + which must be asked for by a confession of his own failure.</p> + <p>On the other hand, he was incapable of distorting the facts in any way so as to + make his mother believe him more successful than he actually was. There was nothing + dishonest, perhaps, in pretending to be hopeful when he really had little hope, but + he could not have represented the condition of the business otherwise than as it + really stood.</p> + <p>The interview was a long one, and Corona's dark face grew grave if not despondent + as he explained to her one point after another, taking especial care to elucidate all + that bore upon his relations with Del Ferice. It was most important that his mother + should understand how he was placed, and how Del Ferice's continued advances of money + were not to be regarded in the light of a personal favour, but as a speculation in + which Ugo would probably get the best of the bargain. Orsino knew how sensitive his + mother would be on such a point, and dreaded the moment when she should begin to + think that he was laying himself under obligations beyond the strict limits of + business.</p> + <p>Corona leaned back in her low seat and covered her eyes with one hand for a + moment, in deep thought. Orsino waited anxiously for her to speak.</p> + <p>"My dear," she said at last, "you make it very clear, and I understand you + perfectly. Nevertheless, it seems to me that your position is not very dignified, + considering who you are, and what Del Ferice is. Do you not think so yourself?"</p> + <p>Orsino flushed a little. She had not put the point as he had expected, and her + words told upon him.</p> + <p>"When I entered business, I put my dignity in my pocket," he answered, with a + forced laugh. "There cannot be much of it in business, at the best."</p> + <p>His mother's black eyes seemed to grow blacker, and the delicate nostril quivered + a little.</p> + <p>"If that is true, I wish you had never meddled in these affairs," she said, + proudly. "But you talked differently last spring, and you made me see it all in + another way. You made me feel, on the contrary that in doing something for yourself, + in showing that you were able to accomplish something, in asserting your + independence, you were making yourself more worthy of respect—and I have + respected you accordingly."</p> + <p>"Exactly," answered Orsino, catching at the old argument. "That is just what I + wished to do. What I said a moment since was in the way of a generality. Business + means a struggle for money, I suppose, and that, in itself, is not dignified. But it + is not dishonourable. After all, the means may justify the end."</p> + <p>"I hate that saying!" exclaimed Corona hotly. "I wish you were free of the whole + affair."</p> + <p>"So do I, with all my heart!"</p> + <p>A short silence followed.</p> + <p>"If I had known all this three months ago," Corona resumed, "I would have taken + the money and given it to you, to clear yourself. I thought you were succeeding and I + have used all the funds I could gather to buy the Montevarchi's property between us + and Affile and in planting eucalyptus trees in that low land of mine where the people + have suffered so much from fever. I have nothing at my disposal unless I borrow. Why + did you not tell me the truth in the summer, Orsino? Why have you let me imagine that + you were prospering all along, when you have been and are at the point of failure? It + is too bad—"</p> + <p>She broke off suddenly and clasped her hands together on her knee.</p> + <p>"It is only lately that business has gone so badly," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"It was all wrong from the beginning! I should never have encouraged you. Your + father was right, as he always is—and now you must tell him so."</p> + <p>But Orsino refused to go to his father, except in the last extremity. He + represented that it was better, and more dignified, since Corona insisted upon the + point of dignity, to fight the battle alone so long as there was a chance of winning. + His mother, on the other hand, maintained that he should free himself at once and at + any cost. A few months earlier he could easily have persuaded her that he was right; + but she seemed changed since he had parted from her, and he fancied that his father's + influence had been at work with her. This he resented bitterly. It must be + remembered, too, that he had begun the interview with a preconceived prejudice, + expecting it to turn out badly, so that he was the more ready to allow matters to + take an unfavourable turn.</p> + <p>The result was not a decided break in his relations with his mother, but a state + of things more irritating than any open difference could have been. From that time + Corona discouraged him, and never ceased to advise him to go to his father and ask + frankly for enough money to clear him outright. Orsino, on his part, obstinately + refused to apply to any one for help, as long as Del Ferice continued to advance him + money.</p> + <p>In those months which followed there were few indeed who did not suffer in the + almost universal financial cataclysm. All that Contini and others, older and wiser + than he, had predicted, took place, and more also. The banks refused discount, even + upon the best paper, saying with justice that they were obliged to hold their funds + in reserve at such a time. The works stopped almost everywhere. It was impossible to + raise money. Thousands upon thousands of workmen who had come from great distances + during the past two or three years were suddenly thrown out of work, penniless in the + streets and many of them burdened with wives and children. There were one or two + small riots and there was much demonstration, but, on the whole, the poor masons + behaved very well. The government and the municipality did what they could—what + governments and municipalities can do when hampered at every turn by the most + complicated and ill-considered machinery of administration ever invented in any + country. The starving workmen were by slow degrees got out of the city and sent back + to starve out of sight in their native places. The emigration was enormous in all + directions.</p> + <p>The dismal ruins of that new city which was to have been built and which never + reached completion are visible everywhere. Houses seven stories high, abandoned + within a month of completion rise uninhabited and uninhabitable out of a rank growth + of weeds, amidst heaps of rubbish, staring down at the broad, desolate streets where + the vigorous grass pushes its way up through the loose stones of the unrolled + metalling. Amidst heavy low walls which were to have been the ground stories of + palaces, a few ragged children play in the sun, a lean donkey crops the thistles, or + if near to a few occupied dwellings, a wine seller makes a booth of straw and + chestnut boughs and dispenses a poisonous, sour drink to those who will buy. But that + is only in the warm months. The winter winds blow the wretched booth to pieces and + increase the desolation. Further on, tall façades rise suddenly up, the blue + sky gleaming through their windows, the green moss already growing upon their naked + stones and bricks. The Barbarini of the future, if any should arise, will not need to + despoil the Colosseum to quarry material for their palaces. If, as the old pasquinade + had it the Barbarini did what the Barbarians did not, how much worse than barbarians + have these modern civilizers done!</p> + <p>The distress was very great in the early months of 1889. The satisfaction which + many of the new men would have felt at the ruin of great old families was effectually + neutralized by their own financial destruction. Princes, bankers, contractors and + master masons went down together in the general bankruptcy. Ugo Del Ferice survived + and with him Andrea Contini and Company, and doubtless other small firms which he + protected for his own ends. San Giacinto, calm, far-seeing, and keen as an eagle, + surveyed the chaos from the height of his magnificent fortune, unmoved and immovable, + awaiting the lowest ebb of the tide. The Saracinesca looked on, hampered a little by + the sudden fall in rents and other sources of their income, but still superior to + events, though secretly anxious about Orsino's affairs, and daily expecting that he + must fail.</p> + <p>And Orsino himself had changed, as was natural enough. He was learning to seem + what he was not, and those who have learned that lesson know how it influences the + real man whom no one can judge but himself. So long as there had been one person in + his life with whom he could live in perfect sympathy he had given himself little + trouble about his outward behaviour. So long as he had felt that, come what might, + his mother was on his side, he had not thought it worth his while not to be natural + with every one, according to his humour. He was wrong, no doubt, in fancying that + Corona had deserted him. But he had already suffered a loss, in Maria Consuelo, which + had at the time seemed the greatest conceivable, and the pain he had suffered then, + together with, the deep though, unacknowledged wound to his vanity, had predisposed + him to believe that he was destined to be friendless. The consequence was that a very + slight break in the perfect understanding which had so long existed between him and + his mother had produced serious results. He now felt that he was completely alone, + and like most lonely men of sound character he acquired the habit of keeping his + troubles entirely to himself, while affecting an almost unnaturally quiet and equable + manner with those around him. On the whole, he found that his life was easier when he + lived it on this principle. He found that he was more careful in his actions since he + had a part to sustain, and that his opinion carried more weight since he expressed it + more cautiously and seemed less liable to fluctuations of mood and temper. The change + in his character was more apparent than real, perhaps, as changes of character + generally are when not in the way of logical development; but the constant thought of + appearances reacts upon the inner nature in the end, and much which at first is only + put on, becomes a habit next, and ends by taking the place of an impulse.</p> + <p>Orsino was aware that his chief preoccupation was identical with that which + absorbed his mother's thoughts. He wished to free himself from the business in which + he was so deeply involved, and which still prospered so strangely in spite of the + general ruin. But here the community of ideas ended. He wished to free himself in his + own way, without humiliating himself by going to his father for help. Meanwhile, too, + Sant' Ilario himself had his doubts concerning his own judgment. It was inconceivable + to him that Del Ferice could be losing money to oblige Orsino, and if he had desired + to ruin him he could have done so with ease a hundred times in the past months. It + might be, he said to himself, that Orsino had after all, a surprising genius for + affairs and had weathered the storm in the face of tremendous difficulties. Orsino + saw the belief growing in his father's mind, and the certainty that it was there did + not dispose him to throw up the fight and acknowledge himself beaten.</p> + <p>The Saracinesca were one of the very few Roman families in which there is a + tradition in favour of non-interference with the action of children already of age. + The consequence was that although the old Prince, Giovanni and his wife, all three + felt considerable anxiety, they did nothing to hamper Orsino's action, beyond an + occasionally repeated warning to be careful. That his occupation was distasteful to + them, they did not conceal, but he met their expressions of opinion with perfect + equanimity and outward good humour, even when his mother, once his staunch ally, + openly advised him to give up business and travel for a year. Their prejudice was + certainly not unnatural, and had been strengthened by the perusal of the unsavoury + details published by the papers at each new bankruptcy during the year. But they + found Orsino now always the same, always quiet, good-humoured and firm in his + projects.</p> + <p>Andrea Contini had not been very exact in his calculation of the date at which the + last door and the last window would be placed in the last of the houses which he and + Orsino had undertaken to build. The disturbance in business might account for the + delay. At all events it was late in April of the following year before the work was + completed. Then Orsino went to Del Ferice.</p> + <p>"Of course," he said, maintaining the appearance of calm which had now become + habitual with him, "I cannot expect to pay what I owe the bank, unless I can effect a + sale of these buildings. You have known that, all along, as well as I. The question + is, can they be sold?"</p> + <p>"You have no applicant, then?" Del Ferice looked grave and somewhat surprised.</p> + <p>"No. We have received no offer."</p> + <p>"You owe the bank a very large sum on these buildings, Don Orsino."</p> + <p>"Secured by mortgages on them," answered the young man quietly, but preparing for + trouble.</p> + <p>"Just so. Secured by mortgages. But if the bank should foreclose within the next + few months, and if the buildings do not realize the amount secured, Contini and + Company are liable for the difference."</p> + <p>"I know that."</p> + <p>"And the market is very bad, Don Orsino, and shows no signs of improvement."</p> + <p>"On the other hand the houses are finished, habitable, and can be let + immediately."</p> + <p>"They are certainly finished. You must be aware that the bank has continued to + advance the sums necessary for two reasons. Firstly, because an expensive but + habitable dwelling is better than a cheap one with no roof. Secondly, because in + doing business with Andrea Contini and Company we have been dealing with the only + really honest and economical firm in Rome."</p> + <p>Orsino smiled vaguely, but said nothing. He had not much faith in Del Ferice's + flattery.</p> + <p>"But that," continued the latter, "does not dispense us from the necessity of + realising what is owing to us—I mean the bank—either in money, or in an + equivalent—or in an equivalent," he repeated, thoughtfully rolling a big silver + pencil case backward and forward upon the table under his fat white hand.</p> + <p>"Evidently," assented Orsino. "Unfortunately, at the present time, there seems to + be no equivalent for ready money."</p> + <p>"No—no—perhaps not," said Ugo, apparently becoming more and more + absorbed in his own thoughts. "And yet," he added, after a little pause, "an + arrangement may be possible. The houses certainly possess advantages over much of + this wretched property which is thrown upon the market. The position is good and the + work is good. Your work is very good, Don Orsino. You know that better than I. + Yes—the houses have advantages, I admit. The bank has a great deal of waste + masonry on its hands, Don Orsino—more than I like to think of."</p> + <p>"Unfortunately, again, the time for improving such property is gone by."</p> + <p>"It is never too late to mend, says the proverb," retorted Del Ferice with a + smile. "I have a proposition to make. I will state it clearly. If it is not to our + mutual advantage, I think neither of us will lose so much by it as we should lose in + other ways. It is simply this. We will cry quits. You have a small account current + with the bank, and you must sacrifice the credit balance—it is not much, I + find—about thirty-five thousand."</p> + <p>"That was chiefly the profit on the first contract," observed Orsino.</p> + <p>"Precisely. It will help to cover the bank's loss on this. It will help, because + when I say we will cry quits, I mean that you shall receive an equivalent for your + houses—a nominal equivalent of course, which the bank nominally takes back as + payment of the mortgages."</p> + <p>"That is not very clear," said Orsino. "I do not understand you."</p> + <p>"No," laughed Del Ferice. "I admit that it is not. It represented rather my own + view of the transaction than the practical side. But I will explain myself beyond the + possibility of mistake. The bank takes the houses and your cash balance and cancels + the mortgages. You are then released from all debt and all obligation upon the old + contract. But the bank makes one condition which, is important. You must buy from the + bank, on mortgage of course, certain unfinished buildings which it now owns, and + you—Andrea Contini and Company—must take a contract to complete them + within a given time, the bank advancing you money as before upon notes of hand, + secured by subsequent and successive mortgages."</p> + <p>Orsino was silent. He saw that if he accepted, Del Ferice was receiving the work + of a whole year and more without allowing the smallest profit to the workers, besides + absorbing the profits of a previous successfully executed contract, and besides + taking it for granted that the existing mortgages only just covered the value of the + buildings. If, as was probable, Del Ferice had means of either selling or letting the + houses, he stood to make an enormous profit. He saw, too, that if he accepted now, he + must in all likelihood be driven to accept similar conditions on a future occasion, + and that he would be binding Andrea Contini and himself to work, and to work hard, + for nothing and perhaps during years.</p> + <p>But he saw also that the only alternative was an appeal to his father, or + bankruptcy which ultimately meant the same thing. Del Ferice spoke again.</p> + <p>"Whether you agree, or whether you prefer a foreclosure, we shall both lose. But + we should lose more by the latter course. In the interests of the bank I trust that + you will accept. You see how frankly I speak about it. In the interests of the bank. + But then, I need not remind you that it would hardly be fair to let us lose heavily + when you can make the loss relatively a slight one—considering how the bank has + behaved to you, and to you alone, throughout this fatal year."</p> + <p>"I will give you an answer to-morrow," said Orsino.</p> + <p>He thought of poor Contini who would find that he had worked for nothing during a + whole year. But then, it would be easy for Orsino to give Contini a sum of money out + of his private resources. Anything was better than giving up the struggle and + applying to his father.</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXVII" name='CHAPTER_XXVII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino was to all intents and purposes without a friend. How far circumstances had + contributed to this result and how far he himself was to blame for his lonely state, + those may judge who have followed his history to this point. His grandfather had + indeed offered him help and in a way to make it acceptable if he had felt that he + could accept it at all. But the old Prince did not in the least understand the + business nor the situation. Moreover a young fellow of two or three and twenty does + not look for a friend in the person of a man sixty years older than himself. While + maintaining the most uniformly good relations in his home, Orsino felt himself + estranged from his father and mother. His brothers were too young, and were generally + away from home at school and college, and he had no sisters. Beyond the walls of the + Palazzo Saracinesca, San Giacinto was the only man whom he would willingly have + consulted; but San Giacinto was of all men the one least inclined to intimacy with + his neighbours, and, after all, as Orsino reflected, he would probably repeat the + advice he had already given, if he vouchsafed counsel of any kind.</p> + <p>He thought of all his acquaintance and came to the conclusion that he was in + reality in terms more closely approaching to friendship with Andrea Contini than with + any man of his own class. Yet he would have hesitated to call the architect his + friend, as he would have found it impossible to confide in him concerning any detail + of his own private life.</p> + <p>At a time when most young men are making friends, Orsino had been hindered, from + the formation of such ties by the two great interests which had absorbed his + existence, his attachment and subsequent love for Maria Consuelo, and the business at + which he had worked so steadily. He had lost Maria Consuelo, in whom he would have + confided as he had often done before, and at the present important juncture he stood + quite alone.</p> + <p>He felt that he was no match for Del Ferice. The keen banker was making use of him + for his own purposes in a way which neither Orsino nor Contini had ever suspected. It + could not be supposed that Ugo had foreseen from the first the advantage he might + reap from the firm he had created and which was so wholly dependent on him. Orsino + might have turned out ignorant and incapable. Contini might have proved idle and even + dishonest. But, instead of this, the experiment had succeeded admirably and Ugo found + himself possessed of an instrument, as it were, precisely adapted to his end, which + was to make worthless property valuable at the smallest possible expense, in fact, at + the lowest cost price. He had secured a first-rate architect and a first-rate + accountant, both men of spotless integrity, both young, energetic and unusually + industrious. He paid nothing for their services and he entirely controlled their + expenditure. It was clear that he would do his utmost to maintain an arrangement so + immensely profitable to himself. If Orsino had realised exactly how profitable it + was, he might have forced Del Ferice to share the gain with him, and would have done + so for the sake of Contini, if not for his own. He suspected, indeed, that Ugo was + certain beforehand, in each case, of selling or letting the houses, but he had no + proof of the fact. Ugo did not leave everything to his confidential clerk, and the + secrets he kept to himself were well kept.</p> + <p>Orsino consulted Contini, as a matter of necessity, before accepting Del Ferice's + last offer. The architect went into a tragic-comic rage, bit his cigar through + several times, ground his teeth, drank several glasses of cold water, talked of the + blood of Cola di Rienzo, vowed vengeance on Del Ferice and finally submitted.</p> + <p>The signing of the new contract determined the course of Orsino's life for another + year. It is surprising to see, in the existence of others, how periods of monotonous + calm succeed seasons of storm and danger. In our own they do not astonish us so much, + if at all. Orsino continued to work hard, to live regularly and to do all those + things which, under the circumstances he ought to have done and earned the reputation + of being a model young man, a fact which surprised him on one or two occasions when + it came to his ears. Yet when he reflected upon it, he saw that he was in reality not + like other young men, and that his conduct was undoubtedly abnormally good as viewed + by those around him. His grandfather began to look upon him as something almost + unnatural, and more than once hinted to Giovanni that the boy, as he still called + him, ought to behave like other boys.</p> + <p>"He is more like San Giacinto than any of us," said Giovanni, thoughtfully. "He + has taken after that branch."</p> + <p>"If that is the case, he might have done worse," answered the old man. "I like San + Giacinto. But you always judge superficially, Giovanni—you always did. And the + worst of it is, you are always perfectly well satisfied with your own judgments."</p> + <p>"Possibly. I have certainly not accepted those of others."</p> + <p>"And the result is that you are turning into an oyster—and Orsino has begun + to turn into an oyster, too, and the other boys will follow his example—a + perfect oyster-bed! Go and take Orsino by the throat and shake him—"</p> + <p>"I regret to say that I am physically not equal to that feat," said Giovanni with + a laugh.</p> + <p>"I should be!" exclaimed the aged Prince, doubling his hard hand and bringing it + down on the table, while his bright eyes gleamed. "Go and shake him, and tell him to + give up this dirty building business—make him give it up, buy him out of it, + put plenty of money into his pockets and send him off to amuse himself! You and + Corona have made a prig of him, and business is making an oyster of him, and he will + be a hopeless idiot before you realise it! Stir him, shake him, make him move! I hate + your furniture-man—who is always in the right place and always ready to be sat + upon!"</p> + <p>"If you can persuade him to give up affairs I have no objection."</p> + <p>"Persuade him! I never knew a man worth speaking to who could be persuaded to + anything he did not like. Make him—that is the way."</p> + <p>"But since he is behaving himself and is occupied—that is better than the + lives all these young fellows are leading."</p> + <p>"Do not argue with me, Giovanni, I hate it. Besides, your reason is worth nothing + at all. Did I spend my youth over accounts, in the society of an architect? Did I put + water in my wine and sit up like a model little boy at my papa's table and spend my + evenings in carrying my mamma's fan? Nonsense! And yet all that was expected in my + day, in a way it is not expected now. Look at yourself. You are bad enough—dull + enough, I mean. Did you waste the best years of your life in counting bricks and + measuring mortar?"</p> + <p>"You say that you hate argument, and yet you are arguing. But Orsino shall please + himself, as I did, and in his own way. I will certainly not interfere."</p> + <p>"Because you know you can do nothing with him!" retorted old Saracinesca + contemptuously.</p> + <p>Giovanni laughed. Twenty years earlier he would have lost his temper to no + purpose. But twenty years of unruffled existence had changed him.</p> + <p>"You are not the man you were," grumbled his father.</p> + <p>"No. I have been too happy, far too long, to be much like what I was at + thirty."</p> + <p>"And do you mean to say I am not happy, and have not been happy, and do not mean + to be happy, and do not wish everybody to be happy, so long as this old machine hangs + together? What nonsense you talk, my boy. Go and make love to your wife. That is all + you are fit for!"</p> + <p>Discussions of this kind were not unfrequent but of course led to nothing. As a + matter of fact Sant' Ilario was quite right in believing interference useless. It + would have been impossible. He was no more able to change Orsino's determination than + he was physically capable of shaking him. Not that Sant' Ilario was weak, physically + or morally, nor ever had been. But his son had grown up to be stronger than he.</p> + <p>Twelve months passed away. During that time the young man worked, as he had worked + before, regularly and untiringly. But his object now was to free himself, and he no + longer hoped to make a fortune or to do any thing beyond the strict execution of the + contract he had in hand, determined if possible to avoid taking another. With a + coolness and self-denial beyond his years, he systematically hoarded the allowance he + received from his father, in order to put together a sum of money for poor Contini. + He made economies everywhere, refused to go into society and spent his evenings in + reading. His acquired manner stood him in good stead, but he could not bear more than + a limited amount of the daily talk in the family. Being witty, rather than gay, if he + could be said to be either, he found himself inclined rather to be bitter than + amusing when he was wearied by the monotonous conversation of others. He knew this to + be a mistake and controlled himself, taking refuge in solitude and books when he + could control himself no longer.</p> + <p>Whether he loved Maria Consuelo still, or not, it was clear that he was not + inclined to love any one else for the present. The tolerably harmless dissipation and + wildness of the two or three years he had spent in England could not account for such + a period of coldness as followed his separation from Maria Consuelo. He had by no + means exhausted the pleasures of life and his capacity for enjoyment could not even + be said to have reached its height. But he avoided the society of women even more + consistently than he shunned the club and the card table.</p> + <p>More than a year had gone by since he had heard from Maria Consuelo. He met Spicca + from time to time, looking now as though he had not a day to live, but neither of + them mentioned past events. The Romans had talked a little of her sudden change of + plans, for it had been known that she had begun to furnish a large apartment for the + winter of the previous year, and had then very unaccountably changed her mind and + left the place in the hands of an agent to be sub-let. People said she had lost her + fortune. Then she had been forgotten in the general disaster that followed, and no + one had taken the trouble to remember her since then. Even Gouache, who had once been + so enthusiastic over her portrait, did not seem to know or care what had become of + her. Once only, and quite accidentally, Orsino had authentic information of her + whereabouts. He took up an English society journal one evening and glanced idly over + the paragraphs. Maria Consuelo's name arrested his attention. A certain very high and + mighty old lady of royal lineage was about to travel in Egypt during the winter. "Her + Royal Highness," said the paper, "will be accompanied by the Countess d'Aranjuez + d'Aragona." Orsino's hand shook a little as he laid the sheet aside, and he was pale + when he rose a few moments later and went off to his own room. He could not help + wondering why Maria Consuelo was styled by a title to which she certainly had a legal + right, but which she had never before used, and he wondered still more why she + travelled in Egypt with an old princess who was generally said to be anything but an + agreeable companion, and was reported to be quite deaf. But on the whole he thought + little of the information itself. It was the sight of Maria Consuelo's name which had + moved him, and he was not altogether himself for several days. The impression wore + off before long, and he followed the round of his monotonous life as before.</p> + <p>Early in the month of March in the year 1890, he was seated alone in his room one + evening before dinner. The great contract he had undertaken was almost finished, and + he knew that within two months he would be placed in the same difficult position from + which he had formerly so signally failed to extricate himself. That he and Contini + had executed the terms of the contract with scrupulous and conscientious nicety did + not better the position. That they had made the most strenuous efforts to find + purchasers for the property, as they had a right to do if they could, and had failed, + made the position hopeless or almost as bad as that. Whether they liked it or not, + Del Ferice had so arranged that the great mass of their acceptances should fall due + about the time when the work would be finished. To mortgage on the same terms or + anything approaching the same terms with any other bank was out of the question, so + that they had no hope of holding the property for the purpose of leasing it. Even if + Orsino could have contemplated for a moment such an act of bad faith as wilfully + retarding the work in order to gain a renewal of the bills, such a course could have + led to no actual improvement in the situation. The property was unsaleable and Del + Ferice knew it, and had no intention of selling it. He meant to keep it for himself + and let it, as a permanent source of income. It would not have cost him in the end + one half of its actual value, and was exceptionally good property. Orsino saw how + hopeless it was to attempt resistance, unless he would resign himself to voting an + appeal to his own people, and this, as of old, he was resolved not to do.</p> + <p>He was reflecting upon his life of bondage when a servant brought him a letter. He + tossed it aside without looking at it, but it chanced to slip from the polished table + and fall to the ground. As he picked it up his attention was arrested by the + handwriting and by the stamp. The stamp was Egyptian and the writing was that of + Maria Consuelo. He started, tore open the envelope and took out a letter of many + pages, written on thin paper. At first he found it hard to follow the characters, and + his heart beat at a rate which annoyed him. He rose, walked the length of the room + and back again, sat down in another seat close to the lamp and read the letter + steadily from beginning to end.</p> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"My Dear Friend—You may, perhaps, be + surprised at hearing from me</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>after so long a time. I received your last letter. + How long ago was</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>that? Twelve, fourteen, fifteen months? I do not + know. It is as</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>well to forget, since I at least would rather not + remember what you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>wrote. And I write now—why? Simply because I + have the impulse to</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>do so. That is the best of all reasons. I wish to + hear from you,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>which is selfish; and I wish to hear about you, + which is not. Are</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>you still working at that business in which you + were so much</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>interested? Or have you given it up and gone back + to the life you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>used to hate so thoroughly? I would like to know. + Do you remember</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>how angry I was long ago, because you agreed to + meet Del Ferice in</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>my drawing-room? I was very wrong, for the meeting + led to many good</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>results. I like to think that you are not quite + like all the young</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>men of your set, who do nothing—and cannot + even do that</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>gracefully. I think you used those very words about + yourself, once</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>upon a time. But you proved that you could live a + very different</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>life if you chose. I hope you are living it + still.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"And so poor Donna Tullia is dead—has been + dead a year and a half!</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>I wrote Del Ferice a long letter when I got the + news. He answered</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>me. He is not as bad as you used to think, for he + was terribly</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>pained by his loss—I could see that well + enough in what he wrote</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>though there was nothing exaggerated or desperate + in the phrases.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>In fact there were no phrases at all. I wish I had + kept the letter</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>to send to you, but I never keep letters. Poor + Donna Tullia! I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>cannot imagine Rome without her. It would certainly + not be the same</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>place to me, for she was uniformly kind and + thoughtful where I was</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>concerned, whatever she may have been to + others.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"Echoes reach me from time to time in different + parts of the world,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>as I travel, and Rome seems to be changed in many + ways. They say</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>the ruin was dreadful when the crash came. I + suppose you gave up</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>business then, as was natural, since they say there + is no more</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>business to do. But I would be glad to know that + nothing</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>disagreeable happened to you in the financial + storm. I confess to</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>having felt an unaccountable anxiety about you of + late. Perhaps</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>that is why I write and why I hope for an answer at + once. I have</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>always looked upon presentiments and forewarnings + and all such</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>intimations as utterly false and absurd, and I do + not really</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>believe that anything has happened or is happening + to distress you.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>But it is our woman's privilege to be inconsistent, + and we should</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>be still more inconsistent if we did not use it. + Besides I have</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>felt the same vague disquietude about you more than + once before and</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>have not written. Perhaps I should not write even + now unless I had</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>a great deal more time at my disposal than I know + what to do with.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Who knows? If you are busy, write a word on a + post-card, just to</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>say that nothing is the matter. Here in Egypt we do + not realise</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>what time means, and certainly not that it can ever + mean money.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"It is an idle life, less idle for me perhaps than + for some of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>those about me, but even for me not over-full of + occupations. The</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>climate occupies all the time not actually spent in + eating,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>sleeping and visiting ruins. It is fair, I suppose, + to tell you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>something of myself since I ask for news of you. I + will tell you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>what I can.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"I am travelling with an old lady, as her + companion—not exactly</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>out of inclination and yet not exactly out of duty. + Is that too</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>mysterious? Do you see me as Companion and general + amuser to an old</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>lady—over seventy years of age? No. I presume + not. And I am not</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>with her by necessity either, for I have not + suffered any losses.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>On the contrary, since I dismissed a certain + person—an attendant,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>we will call her—from my service, it seems to + me that my income is</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>doubled. The attendant, by the bye, has opened a + hotel on the Lake</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>of Como. Perhaps you, who are so good a man of + business, may see</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>some connexion between these simple facts. I was + never good at</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>managing money, nor at understanding what it meant. + It seems that I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>have not inherited all the family + talents.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"But I return to Egypt, to the Nile, to this + dahabiyah, on board of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>which it has pleased the fates to dispose my + existence for the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>present. I am not called a companion, but a lady in + waiting, which</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>would be only another term for the same thing, if I + were not really</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>very much attached to the Princess, old and deaf as + she is. And</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>that is saying a great deal. No one knows what + deafness means who</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>has not read aloud to a deaf person, which is what + I do every day.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>I do not think I ever told you about her. I have + known her all my</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>life, ever since I was a little girl in the convent + in Vienna. She</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>used to come and see me and bring me good + things—and books of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>prayers—I remember especially a box of + candied fruits which she</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>told me came from Kiew. I have never eaten any like + them since. I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>wonder how many sincere affections between young + and old people owe</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>their existence originally to a + confectioner!</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"When I left Rome, I met her again in Nice. She + was there with the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Prince, who was in wretched health and who died + soon afterwards. He</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>never was so fond of me as she was. After his + death, she asked me</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>to stay with her as long as I would. I do not think + I shall leave</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>her again so long as she lives. She treats me like + her own</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>child—or rather, her grandchild—and + besides, the life suits me</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>very well. I am, really, perfectly independent, and + yet I am</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>perfectly protected. I shall not repeat the + experiment of living</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>alone for three years, until I am much + older.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"It is a rather strange friendship. My Princess + knows all about</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>me—all that you know. I told her one day and + she did not seem at</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>all surprised. I thought I owed her the truth about + myself, since I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>was to live with her, and since she had always been + so kind to me.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>She says I remind her of her daughter, the poor + young Princess</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Marie, who died nearly thirty years ago. In Nice, + too, like her</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>father, poor girl. She was only just nineteen, and + very beautiful</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>they say. I suppose the dear good old lady fancies + she sees some</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>resemblance even now, though I am so much older + than her daughter</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>was when she died. There is the origin of our + friendship—the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>trivial and the tragic—confectionery and + death—a box of candied</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>fruits and an irreparable loss! If there were no + contrasts what</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>would the world be? All one or the other, I + suppose. All death, or</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>all Kiew sweetmeats.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"I suppose you know what life in Egypt is like. If + you have not</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>tried it yourself, your friends have and can + describe it to you. I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>will certainly not inflict my impressions upon your + friendship. It</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>would be rather a severe test—perhaps yours + would not bear it, and</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>then I should be sorry.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"Do you know? I like to think that I have a friend + in you. I like</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>to remember the time when you used to talk to me of + all your</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>plans—the dear old time! I would rather + remember that than much</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>which came afterwards. You have forgiven me for all + I did, and are</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>glad, now, that I did it. Yes, I can fancy your + smile. You do not</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>see yourself, Prince Saracinesca, Prince Sant' + Ilario, Duke of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Whatever-it-may-be, Lord of ever so many + What-are-their-names,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, Grandee of Spain + of the First</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Class, Knight of Malta and Hereditary Something to + the Holy See—in</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>short the tremendous personage you will one day + be—you do not</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>exactly see yourself as the son-in-law of the + Signora Lucrezia</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferris, proprietor of a tourist's hotel on the Lake + of Como!</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Confess that the idea was an absurdity! As for me, + I will confess</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>that I did very wrong. Had I known all the truth on + that</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>afternoon—do you remember the thunderstorm? I + would have saved you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>much, and I should have saved + myself—well—something. But we have</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>better things to do than to run after shadows. + Perhaps it is as</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>well not even to think of them. It is all over now. + Whatever you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>may think of it all, forgive your old + friend,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Maria Consuelo d'A."</span><br /> + + <p>Orsino read the long letter to the end, and sat a while thinking over the + contents. Two points in it struck him especially. In the first place it was not the + letter of a woman who wished to call back a man she had dismissed. There was no + sentiment in it, or next to none. She professed herself contented in her life, if not + happy, and in one sentence she brought before him the enormous absurdity of the + marriage he had once contemplated. He had more than once been ashamed of not making + some further direct effort to win her again. He was now suddenly conscious of the + great influence which her first letter, containing the statement of her parentage, + had really exercised over him. Strangely enough, what she now wrote reconciled him, + as it were, with himself. It had turned out best, after all.</p> + <p>That he loved her still, he felt sure, as he held in his hand the pages she had + written and felt the old thrill he knew so well in his fingers, and the old, quick + beating of the heart. But he acknowledged gladly—too gladly, perhaps—that + he had done well to let her go.</p> + <p>Then came the second impression. "I like to remember the time when you used to + talk to me of all your plans." The words rang in his ears and called up delicious + visions of the past, soft hours spent by her side while she listened with something + warmer than patience to the outpouring of his young hopes and aspirations. She, at + least, had understood him, and encouraged him, and strengthened him with her + sympathy. And why not now, if then? Why should she not understand him now, when he + most needed a friend, and give him sympathy now, when he stood most in need of it? + She was in Egypt and he in Rome, it was true. But what of that? If she could write to + him, he could write to her, and she could answer him again. No one had ever felt with + him as she had.</p> + <p>He did not hesitate long. On that same evening, after dinner, he went back to his + own room and wrote to her. It was a little hard at first, but, as the ink flowed, he + expressed himself better and more clearly. With an odd sort of caution, which had + grown upon him of late, he tried to make his letter take a form as similar to hers as + possible.</p> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"MY DEAR FRIEND" (he wrote)—"If people always + yielded to their</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>impulses as you have done in writing to me, there + would be more</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>good fellowship and less loneliness in the world. + It would not be</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>easy for me to tell you how great a pleasure you + have given me.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Perhaps, hereafter, I may compare it to your own + memory of the Kiew</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>candied fruits! For the present I do not find a + worthy comparison</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>to my hand.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"You ask many questions. I propose to answer them + all. Will you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>have the patience to read what I write? I hope so, + for the sake of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>the time when I used to talk to you of all my + plans—and which you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>say you like to remember. For another reason, too. + I have never</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>felt so lonely in my life as I feel now, nor so + much in need of a</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>friend—not a helping friend, but one to whom + I can speak a little</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>freely. I am very much alone. A sort of + estrangement has grown up</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>between my mother and me, and she no longer takes + my side in all I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>want to do, as she did once.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"I will be quite plain. I will tell you all my + troubles, because</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>there is not another person in the world to whom I + could tell</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>them—and because I know that they will not + trouble you. You will</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>feel a little friendly sympathy, and that will be + enough. But you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>will feel no pain. After all, I daresay that I + exaggerate, and that</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>there is nothing so very painful in the matter, as + it will strike</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>you. But the case is serious, as you will see. It + involves my life,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>perhaps for many years to come.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"I am completely in Del Ferice's power. A year ago + I had the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>possibility of freeing myself. What do you think + that chance was? I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>could have gone to my grandfather and asked him to + lay down a sum</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>of money sufficient to liberate me, or I could have + refused Del</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferice's new offer and allowed myself to be + declared bankrupt. My</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>abominable vanity stood in the way of my following + either of those</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>plans. In less than two months I shall be placed in + the same</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>position again. But the circumstances are changed. + The sum of money</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>is so considerable that I would not like to ask all + my family, with</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>their three fortunes, to contribute it. The + business is enormous. I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>have an establishment like a bank and + Contini—you remember</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Contini?—has several assistant architects. + Moreover we stand</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>alone. There is no other firm of the kind left, and + our failure</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>would be a very disagreeable affair. But so long as + I remain Del</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferice's slave, we shall not fail. Do you know that + this great and</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>successful firm is carried on systematically + without a centime of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>profit to the partners, and with the constant + threat of a</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>disgraceful failure, used to force me on? Do you + think that if I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>chose the alternative, any one would believe, or + that my tyrant</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>would let any one believe, that Orsino Saracinesca + had served Ugo</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Del Ferice for years—two years and a half + before long—as a sort</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>of bondsman? I am in a very unenviable position. I + am sure that Del</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferice made use of me at first for his own + ends—that is, to make</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>money for him. The magnitude of the sums which pass + through my</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>hands makes me sure that he is now backed by a + powerful syndicate,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>probably of foreign bankers who lost money in the + Roman crash, and</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>who see a chance of getting it back through Del + Ferice's</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>management. It is a question of millions. You do + not understand?</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Will you try to read my explanation?"</span><br /> + + <p>And here Orsino summed up his position towards Del Ferice in a clear and succinct + statement, which it is not necessary to reproduce here. It needed no talent for + business on Maria Consuelo's part to understand that he was bound hand and foot.</p> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"One of three things must happen" (Orsino + continued). "I must</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>cripple, if not ruin, the fortune of my family, or + I must go</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>through a scandalous bankruptcy, or I must continue + to be Ugo Del</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferice's servant during the best years of my life. + My only</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>consolation is that I am unpaid. I do not speak of + poor Contini. He</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>is making a reputation, it is true, and Del Ferice + gives him</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>something which I increase as much as I can. + Considering our</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>positions, he is the more completely sacrificed of + the two, poor</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>fellow—and through my fault. If I had only + had the courage to put</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>my vanity out of the way eighteen months ago, I + might have saved</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>him as well as myself. I believed myself a match + for Del</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferice—and I neither was nor ever shall be. I + am a little</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>desperate.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"That is my life, my dear friend. Since you have + not quite</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>forgotten me, write me a word of that good old + sympathy on which I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>lived so long. It may soon be all I have to live + on. If Del Ferice</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>should have the bad taste to follow Donna Tullia to + Saint</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Lawrence's, nothing could save me. I should no + longer have the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>alternative of remaining his slave in exchange for + safety from</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>bankruptcy to myself and ruin—or something + like it—to my father.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"But let us talk no more about it all. But for + your kindly letter,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>no one would ever have known all this, except + Contini. In your calm</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Egyptian life—thank God, dear, that your life + is calm!—my story</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>must sound like a fragment from an unpleasant + dream. One thing you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>do not tell me. Are you happy, as well as peaceful? + I would like to</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>know. I am not.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"Pray write again, when you have time—and + inclination. If there is</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>anything to be done for you in Rome—any + little thing, or great</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>thing either—command your old + friend,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"ORSINO SARACINESCA."</span><br /> + + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXVIII" name='CHAPTER_XXVIII'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino posted his letter with an odd sensation of relief. He felt that he was once + more in communication with humanity, since he had been able to speak out and tell + some one of the troubles that oppressed him. He had assuredly no reason for being + more hopeful than before, and matters were in reality growing more serious every day; + but his heart was lighter and he took a more cheerful view of the future, almost + against his own better judgment.</p> + <p>He had not expected to receive an answer from Maria Consuelo for some time and was + surprised when one came in less than ten days from the date of his writing. This + letter was short, hurriedly written and carelessly worded, but there was a ring of + anxiety for him in every line of it which he could not misinterpret. Not only did she + express the deepest sympathy for him and assure him that all he did still had the + liveliest interest for her, but she also insisted upon being informed of the state of + his affairs as often as possible. He had spoken of three possibilities, she said. Was + there not a fourth somewhere? There might often be an issue from the most desperate + situation, of which no one dreamed. Could she not help him to discover where it lay + in this case? Could they not write to each other and find it out together?</p> + <p>Orsino looked uneasily at the lines, and the blood rose to his temples. Did she + mean what she said, or more, or less? He was overwrought and over-sensitive, and she + had written thoughtlessly, as though not weighing her words, but only following an + impulse for which she had no time to find the proper expression. She could not + imagine that he would accept substantial help from her—still less that he would + consent to marry her for the sake of the fortune which might save him. He grew very + angry, then turned cold again, and then, reading the words again, saw that he had no + right to attach any such meaning to them. Then it struck him that even if, by any + possibility, she had meant to convey such an idea, he would have no right at all to + resent it. Women, he reflected, did not look upon such matters as men did. She had + refused to marry him when he was prosperous. If she meant that she would marry him + now, to save him from ruin, he could not but acknowledge that she was carrying + devotion near to its farthest limit. But the words themselves would not bear such an + interpretation. He was straining language too far in suggesting it.</p> + <p>"And yet she means something," he said to himself. "Something which I cannot + understand."</p> + <p>He wrote again, maintaining the tone of his first letter more carefully than she + had done on her part, though not sparing the warmest expressions of heartfelt thanks + for the sympathy she had so readily given. But there was no fourth way, he said. One + of those three things which he had explained to her must happen. There was no hope, + and he was resigned to continue his existence of slavery until Del Ferice's death + brought about the great crisis of his life. Not that Del Ferice was in any danger of + dying, he added, in spite of the general gossip about his bad health. Such men often + outlasted stronger people, as Ugo had outlived Donna Tullia. Not that his death would + improve matters, either, as they stood at present. That he had explained before. If + the count died now, there were ninety-nine chances out of a hundred that Orsino would + be ruined. For the present, nothing would happen. In little more than a + month—in six weeks at the utmost—a new arrangement would be forced upon + him, binding him perhaps for years to come. Del Ferice had already spoken to him of a + great public undertaking, at least half of the contract for which could easily be + secured or controlled by his bank. He had added that this might be a favourable + occasion for Andrea Contini and Company to act in concert with the bank. Orsino knew + what that meant. Indeed, there was no possibility of mistaking the meaning, which was + clear enough. The fourth plan could only lie in finding beforehand a purchaser for + buildings which could not be so disposed of, because they were built for a particular + purpose, and could only be bought by those who had ordered them, namely persons whom + Del Ferice so controlled that he could postpone their appearance if he chose and + drive Orsino into a failure at any moment after the completion of the work. For + instance, one of those buildings was evidently intended for a factory, and probably + for a match factory. Del Ferice, in requiring that Contini and Company should erect + what he had already arranged to dispose of, had vaguely remarked that there were no + match factories in Rome and that perhaps some one would like to buy one. If Orsino + had been less desperate he would willingly have risked much to resent the suave + insolence. As it was, he had laughed in his tyrant's face, and bitterly enough; a + form of insult, however, to which Ugo was supremely indifferent. These and many other + details Orsino wrote to Maria Consuelo, pouring out his confidence with the assurance + of a man who asks nothing but sympathy and is sure of receiving that in overflowing + measure. He no longer waited for her answers, as the crucial moment approached, but + wrote freely from day to day, as he felt inclined. There was little which he did not + tell her in the dozen or fifteen letters he penned in the course of the month. Like + many reticent men who have never taken up a pen except for ordinary correspondence or + for the routine work of a business requiring accuracy, and who all at once begin to + write the history of their daily lives for the perusal of one trusted person, Orsino + felt as though he had found a new means of expression and abandoned himself willingly + to the comparative pleasure of complete confidence. Like all such men, too, he + unconsciously exhibited the chief fault of his character in his long, diary-like + letters. That fault was his vanity. Had he been describing a great success he could + and would have concealed it better; in writing of his own successive errors and + disappointments he showed by the excessive blame he cast upon himself, how deeply + that vanity of his was wounded. It is possible that Maria Consuelo discovered this. + But she made no profession of analysis, and while appearing outwardly far colder than + Orsino, she seemed much more disposed than he to yield to unexpected impulses when + she felt their influence. And Orsino was quite unconscious that he might be + exhibiting the defects of his moral nature to eyes keener than his own.</p> + <p>He wrote constantly therefore, with the utmost freedom, and in the moments while + he was writing he enjoyed a faint illusion of increased safety, as though he were + retarding the events of the future by describing minutely those of the past. More + than once again Maria Consuelo answered him, and always in the same strain, doing her + best, apparently, to give him hope and to reconcile him with himself. However much he + might condemn his own lack of foresight, she said, no man who did his best according + to his best judgment, and who acted honourably, was to be blamed for the result, + though it might involve the ruin of thousands. That was her chief argument and it + comforted him, and seemed to relieve him from a small part of the responsibility + which weighed so heavily upon his shoulders, a burden now grown so heavy that the + least lightening of it made him feel comparatively free until called upon to face + facts again and fight with realities.</p> + <p>But events would not be retarded, and Orsino's own good qualities tended to hasten + them, as they had to a great extent been the cause of his embarrassment ever since + the success of his first attempt, in making him valuable as a slave to be kept from + escaping at all risks. The system upon which the business was conducted was + admirable. It had been good from the beginning and Orsino had improved it to a degree + very uncommon in Rome. He had mastered the science of book-keeping in a short time, + and had forced himself to an accuracy of detail and a promptness of ready reference + which would have surprised many an old professional clerk. It must be remembered that + from the first he had found little else to do. The technical work had always been in + Contini's hands, and Del Ferice's forethought had relieved them both from the + necessity of entering upon financial negotiations requiring time, diplomatic tact and + skill of a higher order. The consequence was that Orsino had devoted the whole of his + great energy and native talent for order to the keeping of the books, with the result + that when a contract had been executed there was hardly any accountant's work to be + done. Nominally, too, Andrea Contini and Company were not responsible to any one for + their book-keeping; but in practice, and under pretence of rendering valuable + service, Del Ferice sent an auditor from time to time to look into the state of + affairs, a proceeding which Contini bitterly resented while Orsino expressed himself + perfectly indifferent to the interference, on the ground that there was nothing to + conceal. Had the books been badly kept, the final winding up of each contract would + have been retarded for one or more weeks. But the more deeply Orsino became involved, + the more keenly he felt the value and, at last, the vital importance, of the most + minute accuracy. If worse came to worst and he should be obliged to fail, through Del + Ferice's sudden death or from any other cause, his reputation as an honourable man + might depend upon this very accuracy of detail, by which he would be able to prove + that in the midst of great undertakings, and while very large sums of money were + passing daily through his hands, he had never received even the very smallest share + of the profits absorbed by the bank. He even kept a private account of his own + expenditure on the allowance he received from his father, in order that, if called + upon, he might be able to prove how large a part of that allowance he regularly paid + to poor Contini as compensation for the unhappy position in which the latter found + himself. If bankruptcy awaited him, his failure would, if the facts were properly + made known, reckon as one of the most honourable on record, though he was pleased to + look upon such a contingency as a certain source of scandal and more than possible + disgrace.</p> + <p>Unconsciously his own determined industry in book-keeping gave him a little more + confidence. In his great anxiety he was spared the terrible uncertainty felt by a man + who does not precisely know his own financial position at a given critical moment. + His studiously acquired outward calm also stood him in good stead. Even San Giacinto + who knew the financial world as few men knew it watched his youthful cousin with + curiosity and not without a certain sympathy and a very little admiration. The young + man's face was growing stern and thoughtful like his own, lean, grave and strong. San + Giacinto remembered that night a year and a half earlier when he had warned Orsino of + the coming danger, and he was almost displeased with himself now for having taken a + step which seemed to have been unnecessary. It was San Giacinto's principle never to + do anything unnecessary, because a useless action meant a loss of time and therefore + a loss of advantage over the adversary of the moment. San Giacinto, in different + circumstances, would have made a good general—possibly a great one; his strange + life had made him a financier of a type singular and wholly different from that of + the men with whom he had to deal. He never sought to gain an advantage by a + deception, but he won everything by superior foresight, imperturbable coolness, + matchless rapidity of action and undaunted courage under all circumstances. It needs + higher qualities to be a good man, but no others are needed to make a successful one. + Orsino possessed something of the same rapidity and much of a similar coolness and + courage, but he lacked the foresight. It was vanity, of the most pardonable kind, + indeed, but vanity nevertheless which had led him to embark upon his dangerous + enterprise—not in the determination to accomplish for the sake of + accomplishing, still less in the direct desire for wealth as an ultimate object, but + in the almost boyish longing to show to his own people that there was more in him + than they suspected. The gift of foresight is generally weakened by the presence of + vanity, but when vanity takes its place the result is as likely to be failure as not, + and depends almost directly upon chance alone.</p> + <p>The crisis in Orsino's life was at hand, and what has here been finally said of + his position at that time seemed necessary, as summing up the consequences to him of + more than two years' unremitting labour, during which he had become involved in + affairs of enormous consequence at an age when most young men are spending their + time, more profitably perhaps and certainly more agreeably, in such pleasures and + pursuits as mother society provides for her half-fledged nestlings.</p> + <p>On the day before his final interview with Del Ferice Orsino wrote a lengthy + letter to Maria Consuelo. As she did not receive it until long afterwards it is quite + unnecessary to give any account of its contents. Some time had passed since he had + heard from her and he was not sure whether or not she were still in Egypt. But he + wrote to her, nevertheless, drawing much fictitious comfort and little real advantage + from the last clear statement of his difficulties. By this time, writing to her had + become a habit and he resorted to it naturally when over wearied by work and + anxiety.</p> + <p>On this same day also he had spent several hours in talking over the situation + with Contini. The architect, strange to say, was more reconciled with his position + than he had formerly been. He, at least, received a certain substantial remuneration. + He, at least, loved his profession and rejoiced in the handling of great masses of + brick and stone. He, too, was rapidly making a reputation and a name for himself, + and, if business improved, was not prevented from entering into other enterprises + besides the one in which he found himself so deeply interested. As a member of the + firm, he could not free himself. As an architect, he could have an architect's office + of his own and build for any one who chose to employ him. For his own part, he said, + he might perhaps be more profitably employed upon less important work; but then, he + might not, for business was very bad. The great works in which Del Ferice kept him + engaged had the incalculable advantage of bringing him constantly before the public + as an architect and of keeping his name, which was the name of the firm, continually + in the notice of all men of business. He was deeply indebted to Orsino for the + generous help given when the realities of profit were so greatly at variance with the + appearances of prosperity. He would always regard repayment of the money so advanced + to him as a debt of honour and he hoped to live long enough to extinguish it. He + sympathised with Orsino in his desire to be freer and more independent, but reminded + him that when the day of liberation came, he would not regret the comparatively short + apprenticeship during which he had acquired so great a mastery of business. Business, + he said, had been Orsino's ambition from the beginning, and business he had, in + plenty, if not with profit. For his own part, he was satisfied.</p> + <p>Orsino felt that his partner could not be blamed, and he felt, too, that he would + be doing Contini a great injury in involving him in a failure. But he regretted the + time when their interests had coincided and they had cursed Del Ferice in common and + with a good will. There was nothing to be done but to submit. He knew well enough + what awaited him.</p> + <p>On the following morning, by appointment, he went with a heavy heart to meet Del + Ferice at the bank. The latter had always preferred to see Orsino without Contini + when a new contract was to be discussed. As a personal acquaintance he treated with + Orsino on a footing of social equality, and the balance of outwardly agreeable + relations would have been disturbed by the presence of a social inferior. Moreover, + Del Ferice knew the Saracinesca people tolerably well, and though not so timid as + many people supposed, he somewhat dreaded a sudden outbreak of the hereditary temper; + if such a manifestation really took place, it would be more agreeable that there + should be no witnesses of it.</p> + <p>Orsino was surprised to find that Ugo was out of town. Having made an appointment, + he ought at least to have sent word to the Palazzo Saracinesca of his departure. He + had indeed left a message for Orsino, which was correctly delivered, to the effect + that he would return in twenty-four hours, and requesting him to postpone the + interview until the following afternoon. In Orsino's humour this was not altogether + pleasant. The young man felt little suspense indeed, for he knew how matters must + turn out, and that he should be saddled with another contract. But he found it hard + to wait with equanimity, now that he had made up his mind to the worst, and he + resented Del Ferice's rudeness in not giving a civil warning of his intended + journey.</p> + <p>The day passed somehow, at last, and towards evening Orsino received a telegram + from Ugo, full of excuses, but begging to put off the meeting two days longer. The + dispatch was from Naples whither Del Ferice often went on business.</p> + <p>It was almost unbearable and yet it must be borne. Orsino spent his time in + roaming about the less frequented parts of the city, trying to make new plans for the + future which was already planned for him, doing his best to follow out a distinct + line of thought, if only to distract his own attention. He could not even write to + Maria Consuelo, for he felt that he had said all there was to be said, in his last + long letter.</p> + <p>On the morning of the fourth day he went to the bank again. Del Ferice was there + and greeted him warmly, interweaving his phrases with excuses for his absence.</p> + <p>"You will forgive me, I am sure," he said, "though I have put you to very great + inconvenience. The case was urgent and I could not leave it in the hands of others. + Of course you could have settled the business with another of the directors, but I + think—indeed, I know—that you prefer only to see me in these matters. We + have worked together so long now, that we understand each other with half a word. + Really, I am very sorry to have kept you waiting so long!"</p> + <p>"It is of no importance," answered Orsino coolly. "Pray do not speak of it."</p> + <p>"Of importance—no—perhaps not. That is, as you could not lose by it, + it was not of financial importance. But when I have made an engagement, I like to + keep it. In business, so much depends upon keeping small engagements—and they + may mean quite as much in the relations of society. However, as you are so kind, we + will not speak of it again. I have made my excuses and you have accepted them. Let + that end the matter. To business, now, Don Orsino—to business!"</p> + <p>Orsino fancied that Del Ferice's manner was not quite natural. He was generally + more quiet. His rather watery blue eyes did not usually look so wide awake, his fat + white hands were not commonly so active in their gestures. Altogether he seemed more + nervous, and at the same time better pleased with himself and with life than usual. + Orsino wondered what had happened. He had perhaps made some very successful stroke in + his affairs during the three days he had spent in Naples.</p> + <p>"So let us now have a look into your contracts, Don Orsino," he said. "Or rather, + look into the state of the account yourself if you wish to do so, for I have already + examined it."</p> + <p>"I am familiar enough with the details," answered the young man. "I do not need to + look over everything. The books have been audited as you see. The only thing left to + be done is to hand over the work to you, since it is executed according to the + contract. You doubtless remember that verbal part of the agreement. You receive the + buildings as they now stand and our credit cash if there is any, in full discharge of + all the obligations of Andrea Contini and Company to the bank—acceptances + coming due, balance of account if in debit, and mortgages on land and + houses—and we are quits again, my firm being discharged of all obligation."</p> + <p>Del Ferice's expression changed a little and became more grave.</p> + <p>"Doubtless," he answered, "there was a tacit understanding to that effect. + Yes—yes—I remember. Indeed it was not altogether tacit. A word was said + about it, and a word is as good as a contract. Very well, Don Orsino—very well. + Since you desire it, we will cry quits again. This kind of business is not very + profitable to the bank—not very—but it is not actual loss."</p> + <p>"It is not profitable to us," observed Orsino. "If you do not wish any more of it, + we do not."</p> + <p>"Really?"</p> + <p>Del Ferice looked at him rather curiously as though wishing that he would say + more. Orsino met his glance steadily, expecting to be informed of the nature of the + next contract to be forced upon him.</p> + <p>"So you really prefer to discontinue these operations—if I may call them + so," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. "It is strange that you should, I confess. I + remember that you much desired to take a part in affairs, to be an actor in the + interesting doings of the day, to be a financial personage, in short. You have had + your wish, Don Orsino. Your firm plays an important part in Rome. Do you remember our + first interview on the steps of Monte Citorio? You asked me whether I could and would + help you to enter business. I promised that I would, and I have kept my word. The + sums mentioned in those papers, here, show that I have done all I promised. You told + me that you had fifteen thousand francs at your disposal. From that small beginning I + have shown you how to deal with millions. But you do not seem to care for business, + after all, Don Orsino. You really do not seem to care for it, though I must confess + that you have a remarkable talent. It is very strange."</p> + <p>"Is it?" asked Orsino with a shade of contempt. "You may remember that my business + has not been profitable, in spite of what you call my talent, and in spite of what I + know to have been hard work."</p> + <p>Del Ferice smiled softly.</p> + <p>"That is quite another matter," he answered. "If you had asked me whether you + could make a fortune at this time, I would have told you that it was quite impossible + without enormous capital. Quite impossible. Understand that, if you please. But, + negatively, you have profited, because others have failed—hundreds of firms and + contractors—while you have lost but the paltry fifteen thousand or so with + which you began. And you have acquired great knowledge and experience. Therefore, on + the whole, you have been the gainer. In balancing an account one takes but the sordid + debit and credit and compares them—but in estimating the value of a firm one + should consider its reputation and the goodwill it has created. The name of Andrea + Contini and Company is a power in Rome. That is the result of your work, and it is + not a loss."</p> + <p>Orsino said nothing, but leaned back in his chair, gloomily staring at the wall. + He wondered when Del Ferice would come to the point, and begin to talk about the new + contract.</p> + <p>"You do not seem to agree with me," observed Ugo in an injured tone.</p> + <p>"Not altogether, I confess," replied the young man with a contemptuous laugh.</p> + <p>"Well, well—it is no matter—it is of no importance—of no + consequence whatever," said Del Fence, who seemed inclined to repeat himself and to + lengthen, his phrases as though he wished to gain time. "Only this, Don Orsino. I + would remind you that you have just executed a piece of work successfully, which no + other firm in Rome could have carried out without failure, under the present + depression. It seems to me that you have every reason to congratulate yourself. Of + course, it was impossible for me to understand that you really cared for a large + profit—for actual money—"</p> + <p>"And I do not," interrupted Orsino with more warmth than he had hitherto + shown.</p> + <p>"But, in that case, you ought to be more than satisfied," objected Ugo + suavely.</p> + <p>Orsino grew impatient at last and spoke out frankly.</p> + <p>"I cannot be satisfied with a position of absolute dependence, from which I cannot + escape except by bankruptcy. You know that I am completely in your power. You know + very well that while you are talking to me now you contemplate making your usual + condition before crying quits, as you express it. You intend to impose another and + probably a larger piece of work on me, which I shall be obliged to undertake on the + same terms as before, because if I do not accept it, it is in your power to ruin me + at once. And this state of things may go on for years. That is the enviable position + of Andrea Contini and Company."</p> + <p>Del Ferice assumed an air of injured dignity.</p> + <p>"If you think anything of this kind you greatly misjudge me," he said.</p> + <p>"I do not see why I should judge otherwise," retorted Orsino. "That is exactly + what took place on the last occasion, and what will take place now—"</p> + <p>"I think not," said Del Ferice very quietly, and watching him.</p> + <p>Orsino was somewhat startled by the words, but his face betrayed nothing. It was + clear to him that Ugo had something new to propose, and it was not easy to guess the + nature of the coming proposition.</p> + <p>"Will you kindly explain yourself?" he asked.</p> + <p>"My dear Don Orsino, there is nothing to explain," replied Del Ferice again + becoming very bland.</p> + <p>"I do not understand."</p> + <p>"No? It is very simple. You have finished the buildings. The bank will take them + over and consider the account closed. You stated the position yourself in the most + precise terms. I do not see why you should suppose that the bank wishes to impose + anything upon you which you are not inclined to accept. I really do not see why you + should think anything of the kind."</p> + <p>In the dead silence which followed Orsino could hear his own heart beating loudly. + He wondered whether he had heard aright. He wondered whether this were not some new + manoeuvre on Del Ferice's part by which he must ultimately fall still more completely + under the banker's domination. Ugo doubtless meant to qualify what he had just said + by adding a clause. Orsino waited for what was to follow.</p> + <p>"Am I to understand that this does not suit your wishes?" inquired Ugo, + presently.</p> + <p>"On the contrary, it would suit me perfectly," answered Orsino controlling his + voice with some difficulty.</p> + <p>"In that case, there is nothing more to be said," observed Del Ferice. "The bank + will give you a formal release—indeed, I think the notary is at this moment + here. I am very glad to be able to meet your views, Don Orsino. Very glad, I am sure. + It is always pleasant to find that amicable relations have been preserved after a + long and somewhat complicated business connexion. The bank owes it to you, I am + sure—"</p> + <p>"I am quite willing to owe that to the bank," answered Orsino with a ready smile. + He was almost beside himself with joy.</p> + <p>"You are very good, I assure you," said Del Ferice, with much politeness. He + touched a bell and his confidential clerk appeared.</p> + <p>"Cancel these drafts," he said, giving the man a small bundle of bills. "Direct + the notary to prepare a deed of sale, transferring all this property, as was done + before—" he hesitated. "I will see him myself in ten minutes," he added. "It + will be simpler. The account of Andrea Contini is balanced and closed. Make out a + preliminary receipt for all dues whatsoever and bring it to me."</p> + <p>The clerk stared for one moment as though he believed that Del Ferice were mad. + Then he went out.</p> + <p>"I am sorry to lose you, Don Orsino," said Del Ferice, thoughtfully rolling his + big silver pencil case on the table. "All the legal papers will be ready to-morrow + afternoon."</p> + <p>"Pray express to the directors my best thanks for so speedily winding up the + business," answered Orsino. "I think that, after all, I have no great talent for + affairs."</p> + <p>"On the contrary, on the contrary," protested Ugo. "I have a great deal to say + against that statement." And he eulogised Orsino's gifts almost without pausing for + breath until the clerk returned with the preliminary receipt. Del Ferice signed it + and handed it to Orsino with a smile.</p> + <p>"This was unnecessary," said the young man. "I could have waited until + to-morrow."</p> + <p>"A matter of conscience, dear Don Orsino—nothing more."</p> + <hr style='width: 65%;' /> + <a id="CHAPTER_XXIX" name='CHAPTER_XXIX'></a> + <h2>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> + <br /> + + <p>Orsino was free at last. The whole matter was incomprehensible to him, and almost + mysterious, so that after he had at last received his legal release he spent his time + in trying to discover the motives of Del Ferice's conduct. The simplest explanation + seemed to be that Ugo had not derived as much profit from the last contract as he had + hoped for, though it had been enough to justify him in keeping his informal + engagement with Contini and Company, and that he feared a new and unfavourable change + in business which made any further speculations of the kind dangerous. For some time + Orsino believed this to have been the case, but events proved that he was mistaken. + He dissolved his partnership with Contini, but Andrea Contini and Company still + continued to exist. The new partner was no less a personage than Del Ferice himself, + who was constantly represented in the firm by the confidential clerk who has been + more than once mentioned in this history, and who was a friend of Contini's. What + terms Contini made for himself, Orsino never knew, but it is certain that the + architect prospered from that time and is still prosperous.</p> + <p>Late in the spring of that year 1890 Roman society was considerably surprised by + the news of a most unexpected marriage. The engagement had been carefully kept a + secret, the banns had been published in Palermo, the civil and religious ceremonies + had taken place there, and the happy couple had already reached Paris before either + of them thought of informing their friends and before any notice of the event + appeared in the papers. Even then, society felt itself aggrieved by the laconic form + in which the information was communicated.</p> + <p>The statement, indeed, left nothing to be desired on the score of plainness or + conciseness of style. Count Del Ferice had married Maria Consuelo d'Aranjuez + d'Aragona.</p> + <p>Two persons only received the intelligence a few days before it was generally made + known. One was Orsino and the other was Spicca. The letters were characteristic and + may be worth reproducing.</p> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"MY FATHER" (Maria Consuelo wrote)—"I am + married to Count Del</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferice, with whom I think that you are acquainted. + There is no</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>reason why I should enter into any explanation of + my reasons for</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>taking this step. There are plenty which everybody + can see. My</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>husband's present position and great wealth make + him what the world</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>calls a good match, and my fortune places me above + the suspicion of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>having married him for his money. If his birth was + not originally</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>of the highest, it was at least as good as mine, + and society will</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>say that the marriage was appropriate in all its + circumstances. You</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>are aware that I could not be married without + informing my husband</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>and the municipal authorities of my parentage, by + presenting copies</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>of the registers in Nice. Count Del Ferice was good + enough to</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>overlook some little peculiarity in the relation + between the dates</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>of my birth and your marriage. We will therefore + say no more about</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>the matter. The object of this letter is to let you + know that those</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>facts have been communicated to several persons, as + a matter of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>necessity. I do not expect you to congratulate me. + I congratulate</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>myself, however, with all my heart. Within two + years I have freed</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>myself from my worthy mother, I have placed myself + beyond your</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>power to injure me, and I have escaped ruining a + man I loved by</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>marrying him. I have laid the foundations of peace + if not of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>happiness.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"The Princess is very ill but hopes to reach + Normandy before the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>summer begins. My husband will be obliged to be + often in Rome but</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>will come to me from time to time, as I cannot + leave the Princess</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>at present. She is trying, however, to select among + her</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>acquaintance another lady in waiting—the more + willingly as she is</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>not pleased with my marriage. Is that a + satisfaction to you? I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>expect to spend the winter in Rome.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"MARIA CONSUELO DEL FERICE."</span><br /> + + <p>This was the letter by which Maria Consuelo announced her marriage to the father + whom she so sincerely hated. For cruelty of language and expression it was not to be + compared with the one she had written to him after parting with Orsino. But had she + known how the news she now conveyed would affect the old man who was to learn it, her + heart might have softened a little towards him, even after all she had suffered. Very + different were the lines Orsino received from her at the same time.</p> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"My dear Friend—When you read this letter, + which I write on the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>eve of my marriage, but shall not send till some + days have passed,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>you must think of me as the wife of Ugo Del Ferice. + To-night, I am</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>still Maria Consuelo. I have something to say to + you, and you must</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>read it patiently, for I shall never say it + again—and after all,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>it will not be much. Is it right of me to say it? I + do not know.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Until to-morrow I have still time to refuse to be + married.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Therefore I am still a free agent, and entitled to + think freely.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>After to-morrow it will be different.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"I wish, dear, that I could tell you all the + truth. Perhaps you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>would not be ashamed of having loved the daughter + of Lucrezia</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>Ferris. But I cannot tell you all. There are + reasons why you had</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>better never know it. But I will tell you this, for + I must say it</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>once. I love you very dearly. I loved you long ago, + I loved you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>when I left you in Rome, I have loved you ever + since, and I am</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>afraid that I shall love you until I + die.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"It is not foolish of me to write the words, + though it may be</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>wrong. If I love you, it is because I know you. We + shall meet</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>before long, and then meet, perhaps, hundreds of + times, and more,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>for I am to live in Rome. I know that you will be + all you should</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>be, or I would not speak now as I never spoke + before, at the moment</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>when I am raising an impassable barrier between us + by my own free</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>will. If you ever loved me—and you + did—you will respect that</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>barrier in deed and word, and even in thought. You + will remember</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>only that I loved you with all my heart on the day + before my</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>marriage. You will forget even to think that I may + love you still</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>to-morrow, and think tenderly of you on the day + after that.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"You are free now, dear, and can begin your real + life. How do I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>know it? Del Ferice has told me that he has + released you—for we</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>sometimes speak of you. He has even shown me a copy + of the legal</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>act of release, which he chanced to find among the + papers he had</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>brought. An accident, perhaps. Or, perhaps he knows + that I loved</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>you. I do not care—I had a right to, + then.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"So you are quite free. I like to think that you + have come out of</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>all your troubles quite unscathed, young, your name + untarnished,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>your hands clean. I am glad that you answered the + letter I wrote to</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>you from Egypt and told me all, and wrote so often + afterwards. I</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>could not do much beyond give you my sympathy, and + I gave it</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>all—to the uttermost. You will not need any + more of it. You are</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>free now, thank God!</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"If you think of me, wish me peace, dear—I + do not ask for anything</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>nearer to happiness than that. But I wish you many + things, the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>least of which should make you happy. Most of all, + I wish that you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>may some day love well and truly, and win the + reality of which you</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>once thought you held the shadow. Can I say more + than that? No</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>loving woman can.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"And so, good-bye—good-bye, love of all my + life, good-bye dear,</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>dear Orsino—I think this is the hardest + good-bye of all—when we</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>are to meet so soon. I cannot write any more. Once + again, the</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>last—the very last time, for ever—I + love you.</span><br /> + <span style='margin-left: 2.5em;'>"MARIA CONSUELO."</span><br /> + + <p>A strange sensation came over Orsino as he read this letter. He was not able at + first to realise much beyond the fact that Maria Consuelo was actually married to Del + Ferice—a match than which none imaginable could have been more unexpected. But + he felt that there was more behind the facts than he was able to grasp, almost more + than he dared to guess at. A mysterious horror filled his mind as he read and reread + the lines. There was no doubting the sincerity of what she said. He doubted the + survival of his own love much more. She could have no reason whatever for writing as + she did, on the eve of her marriage, no reason beyond the irresistible desire to + speak out all her heart once only and for the last time. Again and again he went over + the passages which struck him as most strange. Then the truth flashed upon him. Maria + Consuelo had sold herself to free him from his difficulties, to save him from the + terrible alternatives of either wasting his life as Del Ferice's slave or of ruining + his family.</p> + <p>With a smothered exclamation, between an oath and a groan of pain, Orsino threw + himself upon the divan and buried his face in his hands. It is kinder to leave him + there for a time, alone.</p> + <p>Poor Spicca broke down under this last blow. In vain old Santi got out the cordial + from the press in the corner, and did his best to bring his master back to his + natural self. In vain Spicca roused himself, forced himself to eat, went out, walked + his hour, dragging his feet after him, and attempted to exchange a word with his + friends at the club. He seemed to have got his death wound. His head sank lower on + his breast, his long emaciated frame stooped more and more, the thin hands grew daily + more colourless, and the deathly face daily more deathly pale. Days passed away, and + weeks, and it was early June. He no longer tried to go out. Santi tried to prevail + upon him to take a little air in a cab, on the Via Appia. It would be money well + spent, he said, apologising for suggesting such extravagance. Spicca shook his head, + and kept to his chair by the open window. Then, on a certain morning, he was worse + and had not the strength to rise from his bed.</p> + <p>On that very morning a telegram came. He looked at it as though hardly + understanding what he should do, as Santi held it before him. Then he opened it. His + fingers did not tremble even now. The iron nerve of the great swordsman survived + still.</p> + <p>"Ventnor—Rome. Count Spicca. The Princess is dead. I know the truth at last. + God forgive me and bless you. I come to you at once.—Maria Consuelo."</p> + <p>Spicca read the few words printed on the white strip that was pasted to the yellow + paper. Then his hands sank to his sides and he closed his eyes. Santi thought it was + the end, and burst into tears as he fell to his knees by the bed.</p> + <p>Half an hour passed. Then Spicca raised his head, and made a gesture with his + hand.</p> + <p>"Do not be a fool, Santi, I am not dead yet," he said, with kindly impatience. + "Get up and send for Don Orsino Saracinesca, if he is still in Rome."</p> + <p>Santi left the room, drying his eyes and uttering incoherent exclamations of + astonishment mingled with a singular cross fire of praise and prayer directed to the + Saints and of imprecations upon himself for his own stupidity.</p> + <p>Before noon Orsino appeared. He was gaunt and pale, and more like San Giacinto + than ever. There was a settled hardness in his face which was never again to + disappear permanently. But he was horror-struck by Spicca's appearance. He had no + idea that a man already so cadaverous could still change as the old man had changed. + Spicca seemed little more than a grey shadow barely resting upon the white bed. He + put the telegram into Orsino's hands. The young man read it twice and his face + expressed his astonishment. Spicca smiled faintly, as he watched him.</p> + <p>"What does it mean?" asked Orsino. "Of what truth does she speak? She hated you, + and now, all at once, she loves you. I do not understand."</p> + <p>"How should you?" The old man spoke in a clear, thin voice, very unlike his own. + "You could not understand. But before I die, I will tell you."</p> + <p>"Do not talk of dying—"</p> + <p>"No. It is not necessary. I realise it enough, and you need not realise it at all. + I have not much to tell you, but a little truth will sometimes destroy many + falsehoods. You remember the story about Lucrezia Ferris? Maria Consuelo wrote it to + you."</p> + <p>"Remember it! Could I forget it?"</p> + <p>"You may as well. There is not a word of truth in it. Lucrezia Ferris is not her + mother."</p> + <p>"Not her mother!"</p> + <p>"No. I only wonder how you could ever have believed that a Piedmontese nurse could + be the mother of Maria Consuelo. Nor am I Maria Consuelo's father. Perhaps that will + not surprise you so much. She does not resemble me, thank Heaven!"</p> + <p>"What is she then? Who is she?" asked Orsino impatiently.</p> + <p>"To tell you that I must tell you the story. When I was young—very long + before you were born—I travelled much, and I was well received. I was rich and + of good family. At a certain court in Europe—I was at one time in the + diplomacy—I loved a lady whom I could not have married, even had she been free. + Her station was far above mine. She was also considerably older than I, and she paid + very little attention to me, I confess. But I loved her. She is just dead. She was + that princess mentioned in this telegram. Do you understand? Do you hear me? My voice + is weak."</p> + <p>"Perfectly. Pray go on."</p> + <p>"Maria Consuelo is her grandchild—the granddaughter of the only woman I ever + loved. Understand that, too. It happened in this way. My Princess had but one + daughter, the Princess Marie, a mere child when I first saw her—not more than + fourteen years old. We were all in Nice, one winter thirty years ago—some four + years after I had first met the Princess. I travelled in order to see her, and she + was always kind to me, though she did not love me. Perhaps I was useful, too, before + that. People were always afraid of me, because I could handle the foils. It was + thirty years ago, and the Princess Marie was eighteen. Poor child!"</p> + <p>Spicca paused a moment, and passed his transparent hand over his eyes.</p> + <p>"I think I understand," said Orsino.</p> + <p>"No you do not," answered Spicca, with unexpected sharpness. "You will not + understand, until I have told you everything. The Princess Marie fell ill, or + pretended to fall ill while we were at Nice. But she could not conceal the truth + long—at least not from her mother. She had already taken into her confidence a + little Piedmontese maid, scarcely older than herself—a certain Lucrezia + Ferris—and she allowed no other woman to come near her. Then she told her + mother the truth. She loved a man of her own rank and not much older—not yet of + age, in fact. Unfortunately, as happens with such people, a marriage was + diplomatically impossible. He was not of her nationality and the relations were + strained. But she had married him nevertheless, secretly and, as it turned out, + without any legal formalities. It is questionable whether the marriage, even then, + could have been proved to be valid, for she was a Catholic and he was not, and a + Catholic priest had married them without proper authorisation or dispensation. But + they were both in earnest, both young and both foolish. The husband—his name is + of no importance—was very far away at the time we were in Nice, and was quite + unable to come to her. She was about to be a mother and she turned to her own mother + in her extremity, with a full confession of the truth."</p> + <p>"I see," said Orsino. "And you adopted—"</p> + <p>"You do not see yet. The Princess came to me for advice. The situation was an + extremely delicate one from all points of view. To declare the marriage at that + moment might have produced extraordinary complications, for the countries to which, + the two young people belonged were on the verge of a war which was only retarded by + the extraordinary genius of one man. To conceal it seemed equally dangerous, if not + more so. The Princess Marie's reputation was at stake—the reputation of a young + girl, as people supposed her to be, remember that. Various schemes suggested + themselves. I cannot tell what would have been done, for fate decided the + matter—tragically, as fate does. The young husband was killed while on a + shooting expedition—at least so it was stated. I always believed that he shot + himself. It was all very mysterious. We could not keep the news from the Princess + Marie. That night Maria Consuelo was born. On the next day, her mother died. The + shock had killed her. The secret was now known to the old Princess, to me, to + Lucrezia Ferris and to the French doctor—a man of great skill and discretion. + Maria Consuelo was the nameless orphan child of an unacknowledged marriage—of a + marriage which was certainly not legal, and which the Church must hesitate to ratify. + Again we saw that the complications, diplomatic and of other kinds, which would arise + if the truth were published, would be enormous. The Prince himself was not yet in + Nice and was quite ignorant of the true cause of his daughter's sudden death. But he + would arrive in forty-eight hours, and it was necessary to decide upon some course. + We could rely upon the doctor and upon our two selves—the Princess and I. + Lucrezia Ferris seemed to be a sensible, quiet girl, and she certainly proved to be + discreet for a long time. The Princess was distracted with grief and beside herself + with anxiety. Remember that I loved her—that explains what I did. I proposed + the plan which was carried out and with which you are acquainted. I took the child, + declared it to be mine, and married Lucrezia. The only legal documents in existence + concerning Maria Consuelo prove her to be my daughter. The priest who had married the + poor Princess Marie could never be found. Terrified, perhaps, at what he had done, he + disappeared—probably as a monk in an Austrian monastery. I hunted him for + years. Lucrezia Ferris was discreet for two reasons. She received a large sum of + money, and a large allowance afterwards, and later on it appears that she further + enriched herself at Maria Consuelo's expense. Avarice was her chief fault, and by it + we held her. Secondly, however, she was well aware, and knows to-day, that no one + would believe her story if she told the truth. The proofs are all positive and legal + for Maria Consuelo's supposed parentage, and there is not a trace of evidence in + favour of the truth. You know the story now. I am glad I have been able to tell it to + you. I will rest now, for I am very tired. If I am alive to-morrow, come and see + me—good-bye, in case you should not find me."</p> + <p>Orsino pressed the wasted hand and went out silently, more affected than he owned + by the dying man's words and looks. It was a painful story of well-meant mistakes, he + thought, and it explained many things which he had not understood. Linking it with + all he knew besides, he had the whole history of Spicca's mysterious, broken life, + together with the explanation of some points in his own which had never been clear to + him. The old cynic of a duellist had been a man of heart, after all, and had + sacrificed his whole existence to keep a secret for a woman whom he loved but who did + not care for him. That was all. She was dead and he was dying. The secret was already + half buried in the past. If it were told now, no one would believe it.</p> + <p>Orsino returned on the following day. He had sent for news several times, and was + told that Spicca still lingered. He saw him again but the old man seemed very weak + and only spoke a few words during the hour Orsino spent with him. The doctor had said + that he might possibly live, but that there was not much hope.</p> + <p>And again on the next day Orsino came back. He started as he entered the room. An + old Franciscan, a Minorite, was by the bedside, speaking in low tones. Orsino made as + though he would withdraw, but Spicca feebly beckoned to him to stay, and the monk + rose.</p> + <p>"Good-bye," whispered Spicca, following him with his sunken eyes.</p> + <p>Orsino led the Franciscan out. At the outer door the latter turned to Orsino with + a strange look and laid a hand upon his arm.</p> + <p>"Who are you, my son?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Orsino Saracinesca."</p> + <p>"A friend of his?"</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"He has done terrible things in his long life. But he has done noble things, too, + and has suffered much, and in silence. He has earned his rest, and God will forgive + him."</p> + <p>The monk bowed his head and went out. Orsino re-entered the room and took the + vacant chair beside the bed. He touched Spicca's hand almost affectionately, but the + latter withdrew it with an effort. He had never liked sympathy, and liked it least + when another would have needed it most. For a considerable time neither spoke. The + pale hand lay peacefully upon the pillows, the long, shadowy frame was wrapped in a + gown of dark woollen material.</p> + <p>"Do you think she will come to-day?" asked the old man at length.</p> + <p>"She may come to-day—I hope so," Orsino answered.</p> + <p>A long pause followed.</p> + <p>"I hope so, too," Spicca whispered. "I have not much strength left. I cannot wait + much longer."</p> + <p>Again there was silence. Orsino knew that there was nothing to be said, nothing at + least which he could say, to cheer the last hours of the lonely life. But Spicca + seemed contented that he should sit there.</p> + <p>"Give me that photograph," he said, suddenly, a quarter of an hour later.</p> + <p>Orsino looked about him but could not see what Spicca wanted.</p> + <p>"Hers," said the feeble voice, "in the next room."</p> + <p>It was the photograph in the little chiselled frame—the same frame which had + once excited Donna Tullia's scorn. Orsino brought it quickly from its place over the + chimney-piece, and held it before his friend's eyes. Spicca gazed at it a long time + in silence.</p> + <p>"Take it away," he said, at last. "It is not like her."</p> + <p>Orsino put it aside and sat down again. Presently Spicca turned a little on the + pillow and looked at him.</p> + <p>"Do you remember that I once said I wished you might marry her?" he asked.</p> + <p>"Yes."</p> + <p>"It was quite true. You understand now? I could not tell you then."</p> + <p>"Yes. I understand everything now."</p> + <p>"But I am sorry I said it."</p> + <p>"Why?" "Perhaps it influenced you and has hurt your life. I am sorry. You must + forgive me."</p> + <p>"For Heaven's sake, do not distress yourself about such trifles," said Orsino, + earnestly. "There is nothing to forgive."</p> + <p>"Thank you."</p> + <p>Orsino looked at him, pondering on the peaceful ending of the strange life, and + wondering what manner of heart and soul the man had really lived with. With the + intuition which sometimes comes to dying persons, Spicca understood, though it was + long before he spoke again. There was a faint touch of his old manner in his + words.</p> + <p>"I am an awful example, Orsino," he said, with the ghost of a smile. "Do not + imitate me. Do not sacrifice your life for the love of any woman. Try and appreciate + sacrifices in others."</p> + <p>The smile died away again.</p> + <p>"And yet I am glad I did it," he added, a moment later. "Perhaps it was all a + mistake—but I did my best."</p> + <p>"You did indeed," Orsino answered gravely.</p> + <p>He meant what he said, though he felt that it had indeed been all a mistake, as + Spicca suggested. The young face was very thoughtful. Spicca little knew how hard his + last cynicism hit the man beside him, for whose freedom and safety the woman of whom + Spicca was thinking had sacrificed so very much. He would die without knowing + that.</p> + <p>The door opened softly and a woman's light footstep was on the threshold. Maria + Consuelo came silently and swiftly forward with outstretched hands that had clasped + the dying man's almost before Orsino realised that it was she herself. She fell on + her knees beside the bed and pressed the powerless cold fingers to her forehead.</p> + <p>Spicca started and for one moment raised his head from the pillow. It fell back + almost instantly. A look of supreme happiness flashed over the deathly features, + followed by an expression of pain.</p> + <p>"Why did you marry him?" he asked in tones so loud that Orsino started, and Maria + Consuelo looked up with streaming eyes.</p> + <p>She did not answer, but tried to soothe him, rising and caressing his hand, and + smoothing his pillows.</p> + <p>"Tell me why you married him!" he cried again. "I am dying—I must know!"</p> + <p>She bent down very low and whispered into his ear. He shook his head + impatiently.</p> + <p>"Louder! I cannot hear! Louder!"</p> + <p>Again she whispered, more distinctly this time, and casting an imploring glance at + Orsino, who was too much disturbed to understand.</p> + <p>"Louder!" gasped the dying man, struggling to sit up. "Louder! O my God! I shall + die without hearing you—without knowing—"</p> + <p>It would have been inhuman to torture the departing soul any longer. Then Maria + Consuelo made her last sacrifice. She spoke in calm, clear tones.</p> + <p>"I married to save the man I loved."</p> + <p>Spicca's expression changed. For fully twenty seconds his sunken eyes remained + fixed, gazing into hers. Then the light began to flash in them for the last time, + keen as the lightning.</p> + <p>"God have mercy on you! God reward you!" he cried.</p> + <p>The shadowy figure quivered throughout its length, was still, then quivered again, + then sprang up suddenly with a leap, and Spicca was standing on the floor, clasping + Maria Consuelo in his arms. All at once there was colour in his face and the fire + grew bright in his glance.</p> + <p>"Oh, my darling, I have loved you so!" he cried.</p> + <p>He almost lifted her from the ground as he pressed his lips passionately upon her + forehead. His long thin hands relaxed suddenly, and the light broke in his eyes as + when a mirror is shivered by a blow. For an instant that seemed an age, he stood + upright, dead already, and then fell back all his length across the bed with wide + extended arms.</p> + <p>There was a short, sharp sob, and then a sound of passionate weeping filled the + silent room. Strongly and tenderly Orsino laid his dead friend upon the couch as he + had lain alive but two minutes earlier. He crossed the hands upon the breast and + gently closed the staring eyes. He could not have had Maria Consuelo see him as he + had fallen, when she next looked up.</p> + <p>A little later they stood side by side, gazing at the calm dead face, in a long + silence. How long they stood, they never knew, for their hearts were very full. The + sun was going down and the evening light filled the room.</p> + <p>"Did he tell you, before he died—about me?" asked Maria Consuelo in a low + voice.</p> + <p>"Yes. He told me everything."</p> + <p>Maria Consuelo went forward and bent over the face and kissed the white forehead, + and made the sign of the Cross upon it. Then she turned and took Orsino's hand in + hers.</p> + <p>"I could not help your hearing what I said, Orsino. He was dying, you see. You + know all, now."</p> + <p>Orsino's fingers pressed hers desperately. For a moment he could not speak. Then + the agonised words came with a great effort, harshly but ringing from the heart.</p> + <p>"And I can give you nothing!"</p> + <p>He covered his face and turned away.</p> + <p>"Give me your friendship, dear—I never had your love," she said.</p> + <p>It was long before they talked together again.</p> + <p>This is what I know of young Orsino Saracinesca's life up to the present time. + Maria Consuelo, Countess Del Ferice, was right. She never had his love as he had + hers. Perhaps the power of loving so is not in him. He is, after all, more like San + Giacinto than any other member of the family, cold, perhaps, and hard by nature. But + these things which I have described have made a man of him at an age when many men + are but boys, and he has learnt what many never learn at all—that there is more + true devotion to be found in the world than most people will acknowledge. He may some + day be heard of. He may some day fall under the great passion. Or he may never love + at all and may never distinguish himself any more than his father has done. One or + the other may happen, but not both, in all probability. The very greatest passion is + rarely compatible with the very greatest success except in extraordinary good or bad + natures. And Orsino Saracinesca is not extraordinary in any way. His character has + been formed by the unusual circumstances in which he was placed when very young, + rather than by anything like the self-development which we hear of in the lives of + great men. From a somewhat foolish and affectedly cynical youth he has grown into a + decidedly hard and cool-headed man. He is very much seen in society but talks little + on the whole. If, hereafter, there should be anything in his life worth recording, + another hand than mine may write it down for future readers.</p> + <p>If any one cares to ask why I have thought it worth the trouble to describe his + early years so minutely, I answer that the young man of the Transition Period + interests me. Perhaps I am singular in that. Orsino Saracinesca is a fair type, I + think, of his class at his age. I have done my best to be just to him.</p> + <br /> + + <p>THE END.</p> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Orsino, by F. 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Marion Crawford + +Release Date: August 19, 2004 [EBook #13218] +[Last updated: December 22, 2015] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DON ORSINO *** + + + + +Produced by Audrey Longhurst, Josephine Paolucci and the Online +Distributed Proofreading Team. + + + + + +DON ORSINO + + +BY + +F. MARION CRAWFORD + +AUTHOR OF "THE THREE FATES," "ZOROASTER," "DR. CLAUDIUS," "SARACINESCA," +ETC. + + +NEW YORK GROSSET & DUNLAP PUBLISHERS + +1891, MACMILLAN AND CO. + +Reprinted January, April, December, 1893; June, 1894; January, November, +1895; June, 1896, January, 1898, June, 1899; July, 1901 June, 1903; +June, 1905; January, 1907. + + +_Fifty-sixth Thousand_ + + +Norwood Press J.S. Cushing & Co.--Berwick & Smith Norwood Mass. U.S.A. + + + + +DON ORSINO. + +CHAPTER I. + + +Don Orsino Saracinesca is of the younger age and lives in the younger +Rome, with his father and mother, under the roof of the vast old palace +which has sheltered so many hundreds of Saracinesca in peace and war, +but which has rarely in the course of the centuries been the home of +three generations at once during one and twenty years. + +The lover of romance may lie in the sun, caring not for the time of day +and content to watch the butterflies that cross his blue sky on the way +from one flower to another. But the historian is an entomologist who +must be stirring. He must catch the moths, which are his facts, in the +net which is his memory, and he must fasten them upon his paper with +sharp pins, which are dates. + +By far the greater number of old Prince Saracinesca's contemporaries are +dead, and more or less justly forgotten. Old Valdarno died long ago in +his bed, surrounded by sons and daughters. The famous dandy of other +days, the Duke of Astrardente, died at his young wife's feet some three +and twenty years before this chapter of family history opens. Then the +primeval Prince Montevarchi came to a violent end at the hands of his +librarian, leaving his English princess consolable but unconsoled, +leaving also his daughter Flavia married to that other Giovanni +Saracinesca who still bears the name of Marchese di San Giacinto; while +the younger girl, the fair, brown-eyed Faustina, loved a poor +Frenchman, half soldier and all artist. The weak, good-natured Ascanio +Bellegra reigns in his father's stead, the timidly extravagant master of +all that wealth which the miser's lean and crooked fingers had consigned +to a safe keeping. Frangipani too, whose son was to have married +Faustina, is gone these many years, and others of the older and graver +sort have learned the great secret from the lips of death. + +But there have been other and greater deaths, beside which the mortality +of a whole society of noblemen sinks into insignificance. An empire is +dead and another has arisen in the din of a vast war, begotten in +bloodshed, brought forth in strife, baptized with fire. The France we +knew is gone, and the French Republic writes "Liberty, Fraternity, +Equality" in great red letters above the gate of its habitation, which +within is yet hung with mourning. Out of the nest of kings and princes +and princelings, and of all manner of rulers great and small, rises the +solitary eagle of the new German Empire and hangs on black wings between +sky and earth, not striking again, but always ready, a vision of armed +peace, a terror, a problem--perhaps a warning. + +Old Rome is dead, too, never to be old Rome again. The last breath has +been breathed, the aged eyes are closed for ever, corruption has done +its work, and the grand skeleton lies bleaching upon seven hills, half +covered with the piecemeal stucco of a modern architectural body. The +result is satisfactory to those who have brought it about, if not to the +rest of the world. The sepulchre of old Rome is the new capital of +united Italy. + +The three chief actors are dead also--the man of heart, the man of +action and the man of wit, the good, the brave and, the cunning, the +Pope, the King and the Cardinal--Pius the Ninth, Victor Emmanuel the +Second, Giacomo Antonelli. Rome saw them all dead. + +In a poor chamber of the Vatican, upon a simple bed, beside which burned +two waxen torches in the cold morning light, lay the body of the man +whom none had loved and many had feared, clothed in the violet robe of +the cardinal-deacon. The keen face was drawn up on one side with a +strange look of mingled pity and contempt. The delicate, thin hands were +clasped together on the breast. The chilly light fell upon the dead +features, the silken robe and the stone floor. A single servant in a +shabby livery stood in a corner, smiling foolishly, while the tears +stood in his eyes and wet his unshaven cheeks. Perhaps he cared, as +servants will, when no one else cares. The door opened almost directly +upon a staircase and the noise of the feet of those passing up and down +upon the stone steps disturbed the silence in the death chamber. At +night the poor body was thrust unhonoured into a common coach and driven +out to its resting-place. + +In a vast hall, upon an enormous catafalque, full thirty feet above the +floor, lay all that was left of the honest king. Thousands of wax +candles cast their light up to the dark, shapeless face, and upon the +military accoutrements of the uniform in which the huge body was +clothed. A great crowd pressed to the railing to gaze their fill and go +away. Behind the division tall troopers in cuirasses mounted guard and +moved carelessly about. It was all tawdry, but tawdry on a magnificent +scale--all unlike the man in whose honour it was done. For he had been +simple and brave. + +When he was at last borne to his tomb in the Pantheon, a file of +imperial and royal princes marched shoulder to shoulder down the street +before him, and the black charger he had loved was led after him. + +In a dim chapel of St. Peter's lay the Pope, robed in white, the +jewelled tiara upon his head, his white face calm and peaceful. Six +torches burned beside him; six nobles of the guard stood like statues +with drawn swords, three on his right hand and three on his left. That +was all. The crowd passed in single file before the great closed gates +of the Julian Chapel. + +At night he was borne reverently by loving hands to the deep crypt +below. But at another time, at night also, the dead man was taken up +and driven towards the gate to be buried without the walls. Then a great +crowd assembled in the darkness and fell upon the little band and stoned +the coffin of him who never harmed any man, and screamed out curses and +blasphemies till all the city was astir with riot. That was the last +funeral hymn. + +Old Rome is gone. The narrow streets are broad thoroughfares, the Jews' +quarter is a flat and dusty building lot, the fountain of Ponte Sisto is +swept away, one by one the mighty pines of Villa Ludovisi have fallen +under axe and saw, and a cheap, thinly inhabited quarter is built upon +the site of the enchanted garden. The network of by-ways from the +Jesuits' church to the Sant' Angelo bridge is ploughed up and opened by +the huge Corso Vittorio Emmanuele. Buildings which strangers used to +search for in the shade, guide-book and map in hand, are suddenly +brought into the blaze of light that fills broad streets and sweeps +across great squares. The vast Cancelleria stands out nobly to the sun, +the curved front of the Massimo palace exposes its black colonnade to +sight upon the greatest thoroughfare of the new city, the ancient Arco +de' Cenci exhibits its squalor in unshadowed sunshine, the Portico of +Octavia once more looks upon the river. + +He who was born and bred in the Rome of twenty years ago comes back +after a long absence to wander as a stranger in streets he never knew, +among houses unfamiliar to him, amidst a population whose speech sounds +strange in his ears. He roams the city from the Lateran to the Tiber, +from the Tiber to the Vatican, finding himself now and then before some +building once familiar in another aspect, losing himself perpetually in +unprofitable wastes made more monotonous than the sandy desert by the +modern builder's art. Where once he lingered in old days to glance at +the river, or to dream of days yet older and long gone, scarce +conscious of the beggar at his elbow and hardly seeing the half dozen +workmen who laboured at their trades almost in the middle of the public +way--where all was once aged and silent and melancholy and full of the +elder memories--there, at that very corner, he is hustled and jostled by +an eager crowd, thrust to the wall by huge, grinding, creaking carts, +threatened with the modern death by the wheel of the modern omnibus, +deafened by the yells of the modern newsvendors, robbed, very likely, by +the light fingers of the modern inhabitant. + +And yet he feels that Rome must be Rome still. He stands aloof and gazes +at the sight as upon a play in which Rome herself is the great heroine +and actress. He knows the woman and he sees the artist for the first +time, not recognising her. She is a dark-eyed, black-haired, thoughtful +woman when not upon the stage. How should he know her in the strange +disguise, her head decked with Gretchen's fair tresses, her olive cheek +daubed with pink and white paint, her stately form clothed in garments +that would be gay and girlish but which are only unbecoming? He would +gladly go out and wait by the stage door until the performance is over, +to see the real woman pass him in the dim light of the street lamps as +she enters her carriage and becomes herself again. And so, in the +reality, he turns his back upon the crowd and strolls away, not caring +whither he goes until, by a mere accident, he finds himself upon the +height of Sant' Onofrio, or standing before the great fountains of the +Acqua Paola, or perhaps upon the drive which leads through the old Villa +Corsini along the crest of the Janiculum. Then, indeed, the scene thus +changes, the actress is gone and the woman is before him; the capital of +modern Italy sinks like a vision into the earth out of which it was +called up, and the capital of the world rises once more, unchanged, +unchanging and unchangeable, before the wanderer's eyes. The greater +monuments of greater times are there still, majestic and unmoved, the +larger signs of a larger age stand out clear and sharp; the tomb of +Hadrian frowns on the yellow stream, the heavy hemisphere of the +Pantheon turns its single opening to the sky, the enormous dome of the +world's cathedral looks silently down upon the sepulchre of the world's +masters. + +Then the sun sets and the wanderer goes down again through the chilly +evening air to the city below, to find it less modern than he had +thought. He has found what he sought and he knows that the real will +outlast the false, that the stone will outlive the stucco and that the +builder of to-day is but a builder of card-houses beside the architects +who made Rome. + +So his heart softens a little, or at least grows less resentful, for he +has realised how small the change really is as compared with the first +effect produced. The great house has fallen into new hands and the +latest tenant is furnishing the dwelling to his taste. That is all. He +will not tear down the walls, for his hands are too feeble to build them +again, even if he were not occupied with other matters and hampered by +the disagreeable consciousness of the extravagances he has already +committed. + +Other things have been accomplished, some of which may perhaps endure, +and some of which are good in themselves, while some are indifferent and +some distinctly bad. The great experiment of Italian unity is in process +of trial and the world is already forming its opinion upon the results. +Society, heedless as it necessarily is of contemporary history, could +not remain indifferent to the transformation of its accustomed +surroundings; and here, before entering upon an account of individual +doings, the chronicler may be allowed to say a few words upon a matter +little understood by foreigners, even when they have spent several +seasons in Rome and have made acquaintance with each other for the +purpose of criticising the Romans. + +Immediately after the taking of the city in 1870, three distinct +parties declared themselves, to wit, the Clericals or Blacks, the +Monarchists or Whites, and the Republicans or Beds. All three had +doubtless existed for a considerable time, but the wine of revolution +favoured the expression of the truth, and society awoke one morning to +find itself divided into camps holding very different opinions. + +At first the mass of the greater nobles stood together for the lost +temporal power of the Pope, while a great number of the less important +families followed two or three great houses in siding with the +Royalists. The Republican idea, as was natural, found but few +sympathisers in the highest class, and these were, I believe, in all +cases young men whose fathers were Blacks or Whites, and most of whom +have since thought fit to modify their opinions in one direction or the +other. Nevertheless the Red interest was, and still is, tolerably strong +and has been destined to play that powerful part in parliamentary life, +which generally falls to the lot of a compact third party, where a +fourth does not yet exist, or has no political influence, as is the case +in Rome. + +For there is a fourth body in Rome, which has little political but much +social importance. It was not possible that people who had grown up +together in the intimacy of a close caste-life, calling each other +"thee" and "thou," and forming the hereditary elements of a still feudal +organisation, should suddenly break off all acquaintance and be +strangers one to another. The brother, a born and convinced clerical, +found that his own sister had followed her husband to the court of the +new King. The rigid adherent of the old order met his own son in the +street, arrayed in the garb of an Italian officer. The two friends who +had stood side by side in good and evil case for a score of years saw +themselves suddenly divided by the gulf which lies between a Roman +cardinal and a Senator of the Italian Kingdom. The breach was sudden and +great, but it was bridged for many by the invention of a fourth, +proportional. The points of contact between White and Black became Grey, +and a social power, politically neutral and constitutionally +indifferent, arose as a mediator between the Contents and the +Malcontents. There were families that had never loved the old order but +which distinctly disliked the new, and who opened their doors to the +adherents of both. There is a house which has become Grey out of a sort +of superstition inspired by the unfortunate circumstances which oddly +coincided with each movement of its members to join the new order. There +is another, and one of the greatest, in which a very high hereditary +dignity in the one party, still exercised by force of circumstances, +effectually forbids the expression of a sincere sympathy with the +opposed power. Another there is, whose members are cousins of the one +sovereign and personal friends of the other. + +A further means of amalgamation has been found in the existence of the +double embassies of the great powers. Austria, France and Spain each +send an Ambassador to the King of Italy and an Ambassador to the Pope, +of like state and importance. Even Protestant Prussia maintains a +Minister Plenipotentiary to the Holy See. Russia has her diplomatic +agent to the Vatican, and several of the smaller powers keep up two +distinct legations. It is naturally neither possible nor intended that +these diplomatists should never meet on friendly terms, though they are +strictly interdicted from issuing official invitations to each other. +Their point of contact is another grey square on the chess-board. + +The foreigner, too, is generally a neutral individual, for if his +political convictions lean towards the wrong side of the Tiber his +social tastes incline to Court balls; or if he is an admirer of Italian +institutions, his curiosity may yet lead him to seek a presentation at +the Vatican, and his inexplicable though recent love of feudal princedom +may take him, card-case in hand, to that great stronghold of Vaticanism +which lies due west of the Piazza di Venezia and due north of the +Capitol. + +During the early years which followed the change, the attitude of +society in Rome was that of protest and indignation on the one hand, of +enthusiasm and rather brutally expressed triumph on the other. The line +was very clearly drawn, for the adherence was of the nature of personal +loyalty on both sides. Eight years and a half later the personal feeling +disappeared with the almost simultaneous death of Pius IX. and Victor +Emmanuel II. From that time the great strife degenerated by degrees into +a difference of opinion. It may perhaps be said also that both parties +became aware of their common enemy, the social democrat, soon after the +disappearance of the popular King whose great individual influence was +of more value to the cause of a united monarchy than all the political +clubs and organisations in Italy put together. He was a strong man. He +only once, I think, yielded to the pressure of a popular excitement, +namely, in the matter of seizing Rome when the French troops were +withdrawn, thereby violating a ratified Treaty. But his position was a +hard one. He regretted the apparent necessity, and to the day of his +death he never would sleep under the roof of Pius the Ninth's Palace on +the Quirinal, but had his private apartments in an adjoining building. +He was brave and generous. Such faults as he had were no burden to the +nation and concerned himself alone. The same praise may be worthily +bestowed upon his successor, but the personal influence is no longer the +same, any more than that of Leo XIII. can be compared with that of Pius +IX., though all the world is aware of the present Pope's intellectual +superiority and lofty moral principle. + +Let us try to be just. The unification of Italy has been the result of a +noble conception. The execution of the scheme has not been without +faults, and some of these faults have brought about deplorable, even +disastrous, consequences, such as to endanger the stability of the new +order. The worst of these attendant errors has been the sudden +imposition of a most superficial and vicious culture, under the name of +enlightenment and education. The least of the new Government's mistakes +has been a squandering of the public money, which, when considered with +reference to the country's resources, has perhaps no parallel in the +history of nations. + +Yet the first idea was large, patriotic, even grand. The men who first +steered the ship of the state were honourable, disinterested, +devoted--men like Minghetti, who will not soon be forgotten--loyal, +conservative monarchists, whose thoughts were free from exaggeration, +save that they believed almost too blindly in the power of a +constitution to build up a kingdom, and credited their fellows almost +too readily with a purpose as pure and blameless as their own. Can more +be said for these? I think not. They rest in honourable graves, their +doings live in honoured remembrance--would that there had been such +another generation to succeed them. + +And having said thus much, let us return to the individuals who have +played a part in the history of the Saracinesca. They have grown older, +some gracefully, some under protest, some most unbecomingly. + +In the end of the year 1887 old Leone Saracinesca is still alive, being +eighty-two years of age. His massive head has sunk a little between his +slightly rounded shoulders, and his white beard is no longer cut short +and square, but flows majestically down upon his broad breast. His step +is slow, but firm still, and when he looks up suddenly from under his +wrinkled lids, the fire is not even yet all gone from his eyes. He is +still contradictory by nature, but he has mellowed like rare wine in the +long years of prosperity and peace. When the change came in Rome he was +in the mountains at Saracinesca, with his daughter-in-law, Corona and +her children. His son Giovanni, generally known as Prince of Sant' +Ilario, was among the volunteers at the last and sat for half a day upon +his horse in the Pincio, listening to the bullets that sang over his +head while his men fired stray shots from the parapets of the public +garden into the road below. Giovanni is fifty-two years old, but though +his hair is grey at the temples and his figure a trifle sturdier and +broader than of old, he is little changed. His son, Orsino, who will +soon be of age, overtops him by a head and shoulders, a dark youth, +slender still, but strong and active, the chief person in this portion +of my chronicle. Orsino has three brothers of ranging ages, of whom the +youngest is scarcely twelve years old. Not one girl child has been given +to Giovanni and Corona and they almost wish that one of the sturdy +little lads had been a daughter. But old Saracinesca laughs and shakes +his head and says he will not die till his four grandsons are strong +enough to bear him to his grave upon their shoulders. + +Corona is still beautiful, still dark, still magnificent, though she has +reached the age beyond which no woman ever goes until after death. There +are few lines in the noble face and such as are there are not the scars +of heart wounds. Her life, too, has been peaceful and undisturbed by +great events these many years. There is, indeed, one perpetual anxiety +in her existence, for the old prince is an aged man and she loves him +dearly. The tough strength must give way some day and there will be a +great mourning in the house of Saracinesca, nor will any mourn the dead +more sincerely than Corona. And there is a shade of bitterness in the +knowledge that her marvellous beauty is waning. Can she be blamed for +that? She has been beautiful so long. What woman who has been first for +a quarter of a century can give up her place without a sigh? But much +has been given to her to soften the years of transition, and she knows +that also, when she looks from her husband to her four boys. + +Then, too, it seems more easy to grow old when she catches a glimpse +from time to time of Donna Tullia Del Ferice, who wears her years +ungracefully, and who was once so near to becoming Giovanni +Saracinesca's wife. Donna Tullia is fat and fiery of complexion, +uneasily vivacious and unsure of herself. Her disagreeable blue eyes +have not softened, nor has the metallic tone of her voice lost its +sharpness. Yet she should not be a disappointed woman, for Del Ferice is +a power in the land, a member of parliament, a financier and a +successful schemer, whose doors are besieged by parasites and his +dinner-table by those who wear fine raiment and dwell in kings' palaces. +Del Ferice is the central figure in the great building syndicates which +in 1887 are at the height of their power. He juggles with millions of +money, with miles of real estate, with thousands of workmen. He is +director of a bank, president of a political club, chairman of half a +dozen companies and a deputy in the chambers. But his face is +unnaturally pale, his body is over-corpulent, and he has trouble with +his heart. The Del Ferice couple are childless, to their own great +satisfaction. + +Anastase Gouache, the great painter, is also in Rome. Sixteen years ago +he married the love of his life, Faustina Montevarchi, in spite of the +strong opposition of her family. But times had changed. A new law +existed and the thrice repeated formal request for consent made by +Faustina to her mother, freed her from parental authority and brotherly +interference. She and her husband passed through some very lean years in +the beginning, but fortune has smiled upon them since that. Anastase is +very famous. His character has changed little. With the love of the +ideal republic in his heart, he shed his blood at Mentana for the great +conservative principle, he fired his last shot for the same cause at the +Porta Pia on the twentieth of September 1870; a month later he was +fighting for France under the gallant Charette--whether for France +imperial, regal or republican he never paused to ask; he was wounded in +fighting against the Commune, and decorated for painting the portrait of +Gambetta, after which he returned to Rome, cursed politics and married +the woman he loved, which was, on the whole, the wisest course he could +have followed. He has two children, both girls, aged now respectively +fifteen and thirteen. His virtues are many, but they do not include +economy. Though his savings are small and he depends upon his brush, he +lives in one wing of an historic palace and gives dinners which are +famous. He proposes to reform and become a miser when his daughters are +married. + +"Misery will be the foundation of my second manner, my angel," he says +to his wife, when he has done something unusually extravagant. + +But Faustina laughs softly and winds her arm about his neck as they look +together at the last great picture. Anastase has not grown fat. The gods +love him and have promised him eternal youth. He can still buckle round +his slim waist the military belt of twenty years ago, and there is +scarcely one white thread in his black hair. + +San Giacinto, the other Saracinesca, who married Faustina's elder sister +Flavia, is in process of making a great fortune, greater perhaps than +the one so nearly thrust upon him by old Montevarchi's compact with +Meschini the librarian and forger. He had scarcely troubled himself to +conceal his opinions before the change of government, being by nature a +calm, fearless man, and under the new order he unhesitatingly sided with +the Italians, to the great satisfaction of Flavia, who foresaw years of +dulness for the mourning party of the Blacks. He had already brought to +Rome the two boys who remained to him from his first marriage with +Serafina Baldi--the little girl who had been born between the other two +children had died in infancy--and the lads had been educated at a +military college, and in 1887 are both officers in the Italian cavalry, +sturdy and somewhat thick-skulled patriots, but gentlemen nevertheless +in spite of the peasant blood. They are tall fellows enough but neither +of them has inherited the father's colossal stature, and San Giacinto +looks with a very little envy on his young kinsman Orsino who has +outgrown his cousins. This second marriage has brought him issue, a boy +and a girl, and the fact that he has now four children to provide for +has had much to do with his activity in affairs. He was among the first +to see that an enormous fortune was to be made in the first rush for +land in the city, and he realised all he possessed, and borrowed to the +full extent of his credit to pay the first instalments on the land he +bought, risking everything with the calm determination and cool judgment +which lay at the root of his strong character. He was immensely +successful, but though he had been bold to recklessness at the right +moment, he saw the great crash looming in the near future, and when the +many were frantic to buy and invest, no matter at what loss, his +millions were in part safely deposited in national bonds, and in part as +securely invested in solid and profitable buildings of which the rents +are little liable to fluctuation. Brought up to know what money means, +he is not easily carried away by enthusiastic reports. He knows that +when the hour of fortune is at hand no price is too great to pay for +ready capital, but he understands that when the great rush for success +begins the psychological moment of finance is already passed. When he +dies, if such strength as his can yield to death, he will die the +richest man in Italy, and he will leave what is rare in Italian finance, +a stainless name. + +Of one person more I must speak, who has played a part in this family +history. The melancholy Spicca still lives his lonely life in the midst +of the social world. He affects to be a little old-fashioned in his +dress. His tall thin body stoops ominously and his cadaverous face is +more grave and ascetic than ever. He is said to have been suffering from +a mortal disease these fifteen years, but still he goes everywhere, +reads everything and knows every one. He is between sixty and seventy +years old, but no one knows his precise age. The foils he once used so +well hang untouched and rusty above his fireplace, but his reputation +survives the lost strength of his supple wrist, and there are few in +Rome, brave men or hairbrained youths, who would willingly anger him +even now. He is still the great duellist of his day; the emaciated +fingers might still find their old grip upon a sword hilt, the long, +listless arm might perhaps once more shoot out with lightning speed, the +dull eye might once again light up at the clash of steel. Peaceable, +charitable when none are at hand to see him give, gravely gentle now in +manner, Count Spicca is thought dangerous still. But he is indeed very +lonely in his old age, and if the truth be told his fortune seems to +have suffered sadly of late years, so that he rarely leaves Rome, even +in the hot summer, and it is very long since he spent six weeks in Paris +or risked a handful of gold at Monte Carlo. Yet his life is not over, +and he has still a part to play, for his own sake and for the sake of +another, as shall soon appear more clearly. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + + +Orsino Saracinesca's education was almost completed. It had been of the +modern kind, for his father had early recognised that it would be a +disadvantage to the young man in after life if he did not follow the +course of study and pass the examinations required of every Italian +subject who wishes to hold office in his own country. Accordingly, +though he had not been sent to public schools, Orsino had been regularly +entered since his childhood for the public examinations and had passed +them all in due order, with great difficulty and indifferent credit. +After this preliminary work he had been at an English University for +four terms, not with any view to his obtaining a degree after completing +the necessary residence, but in order that he might perfect himself in +the English language, associate with young men of his own age and +social standing, though of different nationality, and acquire that final +polish which is so highly valued in the human furniture of society's +temples. + +Orsino was not more highly gifted as to intelligence than many young men +of his age and class. Like many of them he spoke English admirably, +French tolerably, and Italian with a somewhat Roman twang. He had +learned a little German and was rapidly forgetting it again; Latin and +Greek had been exhibited to him as dead languages, and he felt no more +inclination to assist in their resurrection than is felt by most boys in +our day. He had been taught geography in the practical, continental +manner, by being obliged to draw maps from memory. He had been +instructed in history, not by parallels, but as it were by tangents, a +method productive of odd results, and he had advanced just far enough in +the study of mathematics to be thoroughly confused by the terms +"differentiation" and "integration." Besides these subjects, a multitude +of moral and natural sciences had been made to pass in a sort of +panorama before his intellectual vision, including physics, chemistry, +logic, rhetoric, ethics and political economy, with a view to +cultivating in him the spirit of the age. The Ministry of Public +Instruction having decreed that the name of God shall be for ever +eliminated from all modern books in use in Italian schools and +universities, Orsino's religious instruction had been imparted at home +and had at least the advantage of being homogeneous. + +It must not be supposed that Orsino's father and mother were satisfied +with this sort of education. But it was not easy to foresee what social +and political changes might come about before the boy reached mature +manhood. Neither Giovanni nor his wife were of the absolutely +"intransigent" way of thinking. They saw no imperative reason to prevent +their sons from joining at some future time in the public life of their +country, though they themselves preferred not to associate with the +party at present in power. Moreover Giovanni Saracinesca saw that the +abolition of primogeniture had put an end to hereditary idleness, and +that although his sons would be rich enough to do nothing if they +pleased, yet his grandchildren would probably have to choose between +work and genteel poverty, if it pleased the fates to multiply the race. +He could indeed leave one half of his wealth intact to Orsino, but the +law required that the other half should be equally divided among all; +and as the same thing would take place in the second generation, unless +a reactionary revolution intervened, the property would before long be +divided into very small moieties indeed. For Giovanni had no idea of +imposing celibacy upon his younger sons, still less of exerting any +influence he possessed to make them enter the Church. He was too broad +in his views for that. They promised to turn out as good men in a +struggle as the majority of those who would be opposed to them in life, +and they should fight their own battles unhampered by parental authority +or caste prejudice. + +Many years earlier Giovanni had expressed his convictions in regard to +the change of order then imminent. He had said that he would fight as +long as there was anything to fight for, but that if the change came he +would make the best of it. He was now keeping his word. He had fought as +far as fighting had been possible and had sincerely wished that his +warlike career might have offered more excitement and opportunity for +personal distinction than had been afforded him in spending an afternoon +on horseback, listening to the singing of bullets overhead. His amateur +soldiering was over long ago, but he was strong, brave and intelligent, +and if he had been convinced that a second and more radical revolution +could accomplish any good result, he would have been capable of devoting +himself to its cause with a single-heartedness not usual in these days. +But he was not convinced. He therefore lived a quiet life, making the +best of the present, improving his lands and doing his best to bring up +his sons in such a way as to give them a chance of success when the +struggle should come. Orsino was his eldest born and the results of +modern education became apparent in him first, as was inevitable. + +Orsino was at this time not quite twenty-one years of age, but the +important day was not far distant and in order to leave a lasting +memorial of the attaining of his majority Prince Saracinesca had decreed +that Corona should receive a portrait of her eldest son executed by the +celebrated Anastase Gouache. To this end the young man spent three +mornings in every week in the artist's palatial studio, a place about as +different from the latter's first den in the Via San Basilio as the +Basilica of Saint Peter is different from a roadside chapel in the +Abruzzi. Those who have seen the successful painter of the nineteenth +century in his glory will have less difficulty in imagining the scene of +Gouache's labours than the writer finds in describing it. The workroom +is a hall, the ceiling is a vault thirty feet high, the pavement is of +polished marble; the light enters by north windows which would not look +small in a good-sized church, the doors would admit a carriage and pair, +the tapestries upon the walls would cover the front of a modern house. +Everything is on a grand scale, of the best period, of the most genuine +description. Three or four originals of great masters, of Titian, of +Reubens, of Van Dyck, stand on huge easels in the most favourable +lights. Some scores of matchless antique fragments, both of bronze and +marble, are placed here and there upon superb carved tables and shelves +of the sixteenth century. The only reproduction visible in the place is +a very perfect cast of the Hermes of Olympia. The carpets are all of +Shiraz, Sinna, Gjordez or old Baku--no common thing of Smyrna, no +unclean aniline production of Russo-Asiatic commerce disturbs the +universal harmony. In a full light upon the wall hangs a single silk +carpet of wonderful tints, famous in the history of Eastern collections, +and upon it is set at a slanting angle a single priceless Damascus +blade--a sword to possess which an Arab or a Circassian would commit +countless crimes. Anastase Gouache is magnificent in all his tastes and +in all his ways. His studio and his dwelling are his only estate, his +only capital, his only wealth, and he does not take the trouble to +conceal the fact. The very idea of a fixed income is as distasteful to +him as the possibility of possessing it is distant and visionary. There +is always money in abundance, money for Faustina's horses and carriages, +money for Gouache's select dinners, money for the expensive fancies of +both. The paint pot is the mine, the brush is the miner's pick, and the +vein has never failed, nor the hand trembled in working it. A golden +youth, a golden river flowing softly to the red gold sunset of the +end--that is life as it seems to Anastase and Faustina. + +On the morning which opens this chronicle, Anastase was standing before +his canvas, palette and brushes in hand, considering the nature of the +human face in general and of young Orsino's face in particular. + +"I have known your father and mother for centuries," observed the +painter with a fine disregard of human limitations. "Your father is the +brown type of a dark man, and your mother is the olive type of a dark +woman. They are no more alike than a Red Indian and an Arab, but you are +like both. Are you brown or are you olive, my friend? That is the +question. I would like to see you angry, or in love, or losing at play. +Those things bring out the real complexion." + +Orsino laughed and showed a remarkably solid set of teeth. But he did +not find anything to say. + +"I would like to know the truth about your complexion," said Anastase, +meditatively. + +"I have no particular reason for being angry," answered Orsino, "and I +am not in love--" + +"At your age! Is it possible!" + +"Quite. But I will play cards with you if you like," concluded the young +man. + +"No," returned the other. "It would be of no use. You would win, and if +you happened to win much, I should be in a diabolical scrape. But I wish +you would fall in love. You should see how I would handle the green +shadows under your eyes." + +"It is rather short notice." + +"The shorter the better. I used to think that the only real happiness in +life lay in getting into trouble, and the only real interest in getting +out." + +"And have you changed your mind?" + +"I? No. My mind has changed me. It is astonishing how a man may love his +wife under favourable circumstances." + +Anastase laid down his brushes and lit a cigarette. Reubens would have +sipped a few drops of Rhenish from a Venetian glass. Teniers would have +lit a clay pipe. Duerer would perhaps have swallowed a pint of Nueremberg +beer, and Greuse or Mignard would have resorted to their snuff-boxes. We +do not know what Michelangelo or Perugino did under the circumstances, +but it is tolerably evident that the man of the nineteenth century +cannot think without talking and cannot talk without cigarettes. +Therefore Anastase began to smoke and Orsino, being young and imitative, +followed his example. + +"You have been an exceptionally fortunate man," remarked the latter, who +was not old enough to be anything but cynical in his views of life. + +"Do you think so? Yes--I have been fortunate. But I do not like to think +that my happiness has been so very exceptional. The world is a good +place, full of happy people. It must be--otherwise purgatory and hell +would be useless institutions." + +"You do not suppose all people to be good as well as happy then," said +Orsino with a laugh. + +"Good? What is goodness, my friend? One half of the theologians tell us +that we shall be happy if we are good and the other half assure us that +the only way to be good is to abjure earthly happiness. If you will +believe me, you will never commit the supreme error of choosing between +the two methods. Take the world as it is, and do not ask too many +questions of the fates. If you are willing to be happy, happiness will +come in its own shape." + +Orsino's young face expressed rather contemptuous amusement. At twenty, +happiness is a dull word, and satisfaction spells excitement. + +"That is the way people talk," he said. "You have got everything by +fighting for it, and you advise me to sit still till the fruit drops +into my mouth." + +"I was obliged to fight. Everything comes to you naturally--fortune, +rank--everything, including marriage. Why should you lift a hand?" + +"A man cannot possibly be happy who marries before he is thirty years +old," answered Orsino with conviction. "How do you expect me to occupy +myself during the next ten years?" + +"That is true," Gouache replied, somewhat thoughtfully, as though the +consideration had not struck him. + +"If I were an artist, it would be different." + +"Oh, very different. I agree with you." Anastase smiled good-humouredly. + +"Because I should have talent--and a talent is an occupation in itself." + +"I daresay you would have talent," Gouache answered, still laughing. + +"No--I did not mean it in that way--I mean that when a man has a talent +it makes him think of something besides himself." + +"I fancy there is more truth in that remark than either you or I would +at first think," said the painter in a meditative tone. + +"Of course there is," returned the youthful philosopher, with more +enthusiasm than he would have cared to show if he had been talking to a +woman. "What is talent but a combination of the desire to do and the +power to accomplish? As for genius, it is never selfish when it is at +work." + +"Is that reflection your own?" + +"I think so," answered Orsino modestly. He was secretly pleased that a +man of the artist's experience and reputation should be struck by his +remark. + +"I do not think I agree with you," said Gouache. + +Orsino's expression changed a little. He was disappointed, but he said +nothing. + +"I think that a great genius is often ruthless. Do you remember how +Beethoven congratulated a young composer after the first performance of +his opera? 'I like your opera--I will write music to it.' That was a +fine instance of unselfishness, was it not. I can see the young man's +face--" Anastase smiled. + +"Beethoven was not at work when he made the remark," observed Orsino, +defending himself. + +"Nor am I," said Gouache, taking up his brushes again. "If you will +resume the pose--so--thoughtful but bold--imagine that you are already +an ancestor contemplating posterity from the height of a nobler age--you +understand. Try and look as if you were already framed and hanging in +the Saracinesca gallery between a Titian and a Giorgione." + +Orsino resumed his position and scowled at Anastase with a good will. + +"Not quite such a terrible frown, perhaps," suggested the latter. "When +you do that, you certainly look like the gentleman who murdered the +Colonna in a street brawl--I forget how long ago. You have his portrait. +But I fancy the Princess would prefer--yes--that is more natural. You +have her eyes. How the world raved about her twenty years ago--and raves +still, for that matter." + +"She is the most beautiful woman in the world," said Orsino. There was +something in the boy's unaffected admiration of his mother which +contrasted pleasantly with his youthful affectation of cynicism and +indifference. His handsome face lighted up a little, and the painter +worked rapidly. + +But the expression was not lasting. Orsino was at the age when most +young men take the trouble to cultivate a manner, and the look of +somewhat contemptuous gravity which he had lately acquired was already +becoming habitual. Since all men in general have adopted the fashion of +the mustache, youths who are still waiting for the full crop seem to +have difficulty in managing their mouths. Some draw in their lips with +that air of unnatural sternness observable in rough weather among +passengers on board ship, just before they relinquish the struggle and +retire from public life. Others contract their mouths to the shape of a +heart, while there are yet others who lose control of the pendant lower +lip and are content to look like idiots, while expecting the hairy +growth which is to make them look like men. Orsino had chosen the least +objectionable idiosyncrasy and had elected to be of a stern countenance. +When he forgot himself he was singularly handsome, and Gouache lay in +wait for his moments of forgetfulness. + +"You are quite right," said the Frenchman. "From the classic point of +view your mother was and is the most beautiful dark woman in the world. +For myself--well in the first place, you are her son, and secondly I am +an artist and not a critic. The painter's tongue is his brush and his +words are colours." + +"What were you going to say about my mother?" asked Orsino with some +curiosity. + +"Oh--nothing. Well, if you must hear it, the Princess represents my +classical ideal, but not my personal ideal. I have admired some one else +more." + +"Donna Faustina?" enquired Orsino. + +"Ah well, my friend--she is my wife, you see. That always makes a great +difference in the degree of admiration--" + +"Generally in the opposite direction," Orsino observed in a tone of +elderly unbelief. + +Gouache had just put his brush into his mouth and held it between his +teeth as a poodle carries a stick, while he used his thumb on the +canvas. The modern painter paints with everything, not excepting his +fingers. He glanced at his model and then at his work, and got his +effect before he answered. + +"You are very hard upon marriage," he said quietly. "Have you tried it?" + +"Not yet. I will wait as long as possible, before I do. It is not every +one who has your luck." + +"There was something more than luck in my marriage. We loved each other, +it is true, but there were difficulties--you have no idea what +difficulties there were. But Faustina was brave and I caught a little +courage from her. Do you know that when the Serristori barracks were +blown up she ran out alone to find me merely because she thought I might +have been killed? I found her in the ruins, praying for me. It was +sublime." + +"I have heard that. She was very brave--" + +"And I a poor Zouave--and a poorer painter. Are there such women +nowadays? Bah! I have not known them. We used to meet at churches and +exchange two words while her maid was gone to get her a chair. Oh, the +good old time! And then the separations--the taking of Rome, when the +old Princess carried all the family off to England and stayed there +while we were fighting for poor France--and the coming back and the +months of waiting, and the notes dropped from her window at midnight and +the great quarrel with her family when we took advantage of the new law. +And then the marriage itself--what a scandal in Rome! But for the +Princess, your mother, I do not know what we should have done. She +brought Faustina to the church and drove us to the station in her own +carriage--in the face of society. They say that Ascanio Bellegra hung +about the door of the church while we were being married, but he had not +the courage to come in, for fear of his mother. We went to Naples and +lived on salad and love--and we had very little else for a year or two. +I was not much known, then, except in Rome, and Roman society refused to +have its portrait painted by the adventurer who had run away with a +daughter of Casa Montevarchi. Perhaps, if we had been rich, we should +have hated each other by this time. But we had to live for each other in +those days, for every one was against us. I painted, and she kept +house--that English blood is always practical in a desert. And it was a +desert. The cooking--it would have made a billiard ball's hair stand on +end with astonishment. She made the salad, and then evolved the roast +from the inner consciousness. I painted a chaudfroid on an old plate. It +was well done--the transparent quality of the jelly and the delicate +ortolans imprisoned within, imploring dissection. Well, must I tell you? +We threw it away. It was martyrdom. Saint Anthony's position was +enviable compared with ours. Beside us that good man would have seemed +but a humbug. Yet we lived through it all. I repeat it. We lived, and we +were happy. It is amazing, how a man may love his wife." + +Anastase had told his story with many pauses, working hard while he +spoke, for though he was quite in earnest in all he said, his chief +object was to distract the young man's attention, so as to bring out his +natural expression. Having exhausted one of the colours he needed, he +drew back and contemplated his work. Orsino seemed lost in thought. + +"What are you thinking about?" asked the painter. + +"Do you think I am too old to become an artist?" enquired the young man. + +"You? Who knows? But the times are too old. It is the same thing." + +"I do not understand." + +"You are in love with the life--not with the profession. But the life is +not the same now, nor the art either. Bah! In a few years I shall be out +of fashion. I know it. Then we will go back to first principles. A +garret to live in, bread and salad for dinner. Of course--what do you +expect? That need not prevent us from living in a palace as long as we +can." + +Thereupon Anastase Gouache hummed a very lively little song as he +squeezed a few colours from the tubes. Orsino's face betrayed his +discontentment. + +"I was not in earnest," he said. "At least, not as to becoming an +artist. I only asked the question to be sure that you would answer it +just as everybody answers all questions of the kind--by discouraging my +wish do anything for myself." + +"Why should you do anything? You are so rich!" + +"What everybody says! Do you know what we rich men, or we men who are to +be rich, are expected to be? Farmers. It is not gay." + +"It would be my dream--pastoral, you know--Normandy cows, a river with +reeds, perpetual Angelus, bread and milk for supper. I adore milk. A +nymph here and there--at your age, it is permitted. My dear friend, why +not be a farmer?" + +Orsino laughed a little, in spite of himself. + +"I suppose that is an artist's idea of farming." + +"As near the truth as a farmer's idea of art, I daresay," retorted +Gouache. + +"We see you paint, but you never see us at work. That is the +difference--but that is not the question. Whatever I propose, I get the +same answer. I imagine you will permit me to dislike farming as a +profession." + +"For the sake of argument, only," said Gouache gravely. + +"Good. For the sake of argument. We will suppose that I am myself in all +respects what I am, excepting that I am never to have any land, and only +enough money to buy cigarettes. I say, 'Let me take a profession. Let me +be a soldier.' Every one rises up and protests against the idea of a +Saracinesca serving in the Italian army. Why? Remember that your father +was a volunteer officer under Pope Pius Ninth.' It is comic. He spent an +afternoon on the Pincio for his convictions, and then retired into +private life. 'Let me serve in a foreign army--France, Austria, Russia, +I do not care.' They are more horrified than ever. 'You have not a spark +of patriotism! To serve a foreign power! How dreadful! And as for the +Russians, they are all heretics.' Perhaps they are. I will try +diplomacy. 'What? Sacrifice your convictions? Become the blind +instrument of a scheming, dishonest ministry? It is unworthy of a +Saracinesca!' I will think no more about it. Let me be a lawyer and +enter public life. 'A lawyer indeed! Will you wrangle in public with +notaries' sons, defend murderers and burglars, and take fees like the +old men who write letters for the peasants under a green umbrella in +the street? It would be almost better to turn musician and give +concerts.' 'The Church, perhaps?' I suggest. 'The Church? Are you not +the heir, and will you not be the head of the family some day? You must +be mad.' 'Then give me a sum of money and let me try my luck with my +cousin San Giacinto.' 'Business? If you make money it is a degradation, +and with these new laws you cannot afford to lose it. Besides, you will +have enough of business when you have to manage your estates.' So all my +questions are answered, and I am condemned at twenty to be a farmer for +my natural life. I say so. 'A farmer, forsooth! Have you not the world +before you? Have you not received the most liberal education? Are you +not rich? How can you take such a narrow view! Come out to the Villa and +look at those young thoroughbreds, and afterwards we will drop in at the +club before dinner. Then there is that reception at the old Principessa +Befana's to-night, and the Duchessa della Seccatura is also at home.' +That is my life, Monsieur Gouache. There you have the question, the +answer and the result. Admit that it is not gay." + +"It is very serious, on the contrary," answered Gouache who had listened +to the detached Jeremiah with more curiosity and interest than he often +shewed. + +"I see nothing for it, but for you to fall in love without losing a +single moment." + +Orsino laughed a little harshly. + +"I am in the humour, I assure you," he answered. + +"Well, then--what are you waiting for?" enquired Gouache, looking at +him. + +"What for? For an object for my affections, of course. That is rather +necessary under the circumstances." + +"You may not wait long, if you will consent to stay here another quarter +of an hour," said Anastase with a laugh. "A lady is coming, whose +portrait I am painting--an interesting woman--tolerably +beautiful--rather mysterious--here she is, you can have a good look at +her, before you make up your mind." + +Anastase took the half-finished portrait of Orsino from the easel and +put another in its place, considerably further advanced in execution. +Orsino lit a cigarette in order to quicken his judgment, and looked at +the canvas. + +The picture was decidedly striking and one felt at once that it must be +a good likeness. Gouache was evidently proud of it. It represented a +woman, who was certainly not yet thirty years of age, in full dress, +seated in a high, carved chair against a warm, dark background. A mantle +of some sort of heavy, claret-coloured brocade, lined with fur, was +draped across one of the beautiful shoulders, leaving the other bare, +the scant dress of the period scarcely breaking the graceful lines from +the throat to the soft white hand, of which the pointed fingers hung +carelessly over the carved extremity of the arm of the chair. The lady's +hair was auburn, her eyes distinctly yellow. The face was an unusual one +and not without attraction, very pale, with a full red mouth too wide +for perfect beauty, but well modelled--almost too well, Gouache thought. +The nose was of no distinct type, and was the least significant feature +in the face, but the forehead was broad and massive, the chin soft, +prominent and round, the brows much arched and divided by a vertical +shadow which, in the original, might be the first indication of a tiny +wrinkle. Orsino fancied that one eye or the other wandered a very +little, but he could not tell which--the slight defect made the glance +disquieting and yet attractive. Altogether it was one of those faces +which to one man say too little, and to another too much. + +Orsino affected to gaze upon the portrait with unconcern, but in reality +he was oddly fascinated by it, and Gouache did not fail to see the +truth. + +"You had better go away, my friend," he said, with a smile. "She will be +here in a few minutes and you will certainly lose your heart if you see +her." + +"What is her name?" asked Orsino, paying no attention to the remark. + +"Donna Maria Consuelo--something or other--a string of names ending in +Aragona. I call her Madame d'Aragona for shortness, and she does not +seem to object." + +"Married? And Spanish?" + +"I suppose so," answered Gouache. "A widow I believe. She is not Italian +and not French, so she must be Spanish." + +"The name does not say much. Many people put 'd'Aragona' after their +names--some cousins of ours, among others--they are Aranjuez +d'Aragona--my father's mother was of that family." + +"I think that is the name--Aranjuez. Indeed I am sure of it, for +Faustina remarked that she might be related to you." + +"It is odd. We have not heard of her being in Rome--and I am not sure +who she is. Has she been here long?" + +"I have known her a month--since she first came to my studio. She lives +in a hotel, and she comes alone, except when I need the dress and then +she brings her maid, an odd creature who never speaks and seems to +understand no known language." + +"It is an interesting face. Do you mind if I stay till she comes? We +may really be cousins, you know." + +"By all means--you can ask her. The relationship would be with her +husband, I suppose." + +"True. I had not thought of that; and he is dead, you say?" + +Gouache did not answer, for at that moment the lady's footfall was heard +upon the marble floor, soft, quick and decided. She paused a moment in +the middle of the room when she saw that the artist was not alone. He +went forward to meet her and asked leave to present Orsino, with that +polite indistinctness which leaves to the persons introduced the task of +discovering one another's names. + +Orsino looked into the lady's eyes and saw that the slight peculiarity +of the glance was real and not due to any error of Gouache's drawing. He +recognised each feature in turn in the one look he gave at the face +before he bowed, and he saw that the portrait was indeed very good. He +was not subject to shyness. + +"We should be cousins, Madame," he said. "My father's mother was an +Aranjuez d'Aragona." + +"Indeed?" said the lady with calm indifference, looking critically at +the picture of herself. + +"I am Orsino Saracinesca," said the young man, watching her with some +admiration. + +"Indeed?" she repeated, a shade less coldly. "I think I have heard my +poor husband say that he was connected with your family. What do you +think of my portrait? Every one has tried to paint me and failed, but my +friend Monsieur Gouache is succeeding. He has reproduced my hideous nose +and my dreadful mouth with a masterly exactness. No--my dear Monsieur +Gouache--it is a compliment I pay you. I am in earnest. I do not want a +portrait of the Venus of Milo with red hair, nor of the Minerva Medica +with yellow eyes, nor of an imaginary Medea in a fur cloak. I want +myself, just as I am. That is exactly what you are doing for me. Myself +and I have lived so long together that I desire a little memento of the +acquaintance." + +"You can afford to speak lightly of what is so precious to others," said +Gouache, gallantly. Madame d'Aranjuez sank into the carved chair Orsino +had occupied. + +"This dear Gouache--he is charming, is he not?" she said with a little +laugh. Orsino looked at her. + +"Gouache is right," he thought, with the assurance of his years. "It +would be amusing to fall in love with her." + + + + +CHAPTER III. + + +Gouache was far more interested in his work than in the opinions which +his two visitors might entertain of each other. He looked at the lady +fixedly, moved his easel, raised the picture a few inches higher from +the ground and looked again. Orsino watched the proceedings from a +little distance, debating whether he should go away or remain. Much +depended upon Madame d'Aragona's character, he thought, and of this he +knew nothing. Some women are attracted by indifference, and to go away +would be to show a disinclination to press the acquaintance. Others, he +reflected, prefer the assurance of the man who always stays, even +without an invitation, rather than lose his chance. On the other hand a +sitting in a studio is not exactly like a meeting in a drawing-room. The +painter has a sort of traditional, exclusive right to his sitter's sole +attention. The sitter, too, if a woman, enjoys the privilege of +sacrificing one-half her good looks in a bad light, to favour the other +side which is presented to the artist's view, and the third person, if +there be one, has a provoking habit of so placing himself as to receive +the least flattering impression. Hence the great unpopularity of the +third person--or "the third inconvenience," as the Romans call him. + +Orsino stood still for a few moments, wondering whether either of the +two would ask him to sit down. As they did not, he was annoyed with them +and determined to stay, if only for five minutes. He took up his +position, in a deep seat under the high window, and watched Madame +d'Aragona's profile. Neither she nor Gouache made any remark. Gouache +began to brush over the face of his picture. Orsino felt that the +silence was becoming awkward. He began to regret that he had remained, +for he discovered from his present position that the lady's nose was +indeed her defective feature. + +"You do not mind my staying a few minutes?" he said, with a vague +interrogation. + +"Ask Madame, rather," answered Gouache, brushing away in a lively +manner. Madame said nothing, and seemed not to have heard. + +"Am I indiscreet?" asked Orsino. + +"How? No. Why should you not remain? Only, if you please, sit where I +can see you. Thanks. I do not like to feel that some one is looking at +me and that I cannot look at him, if I please--and as for me, I am +nailed in my position. How can I turn my head? Gouache is very severe." + +"You may have heard, Madame, that a beautiful woman is most beautiful in +repose," said Gouache. + +Orsino was annoyed, for he had of course wished to make exactly the same +remark. But they were talking in French, and the Frenchman had the +advantage of speed. + +"And how about an ugly woman?" asked Madame d'Aragona. + +"Motion is most becoming to her--rapid motion--the door," answered the +artist. + +Orsino had changed his position and was standing behind Gouache. + +"I wish you would sit down," said the latter, after a short pause. "I +do not like to feel that any one is standing behind me when I am at +work. It is a weakness, but I cannot help it. Do you believe in mental +suggestion, Madame?" + +"What is that?" asked Madame d'Aragona vaguely. + +"I always imagine that a person standing behind me when I am at work is +making me see everything as he sees," answered Gouache, not attempting +to answer the question. + +Orsino, driven from pillar to post, had again moved away. + +"And do you believe in such absurd superstitions?" enquired Madame +d'Aragona with a contemptuous curl of her heavy lips. "Monsieur de +Saracinesca, will you not sit down? You make me a little nervous." + +Gouache raised his finely marked eyebrows almost imperceptibly at the +odd form of address, which betrayed ignorance either of worldly usage or +else of Orsino's individuality. He stepped back from the canvas and +moved a chair forward. + +"Sit here, Prince," he said. "Madame can see you, and you will not be +behind me." + +Orsino took the proffered seat without any remark. Madame d'Aragona's +expression did not change, though she was perfectly well aware that +Gouache had intended to correct her manner of addressing the young man. +The latter was slightly annoyed. What difference could it make? It was +tactless of Gouache, he thought, for the lady might be angry. + +"Are you spending the winter in Rome, Madame?" he asked. He was +conscious that the question lacked originality, but no other presented +itself to him. + +"The winter?" repeated Madame d'Aragona dreamily. "Who knows? I am here +at present, at the mercy of the great painter. That is all I know. Shall +I be here next month, next week? I cannot tell. I know no one. I have +never been here before. It is dull. This was my object," she added, +after a short pause. "When it is accomplished I will consider other +matters. I may be obliged to accompany their Royal Highnesses to Egypt +in January. That is next month, is it not?" + +It was so very far from clear who the royal highnesses in question might +be, that Orsino glanced at Gouache, to see whether he understood. But +Gouache was imperturbable. + +"January, Madame, follows December," he answered. "The fact is confirmed +by the observations of many centuries. Even in my own experience it has +occurred forty-seven times in succession." + +Orsino laughed a little, and as Madame d'Aragona's eyes met his, the red +lips smiled, without parting. + +"He is always laughing at me," she said pleasantly. + +Gouache was painting with great alacrity. The smile was becoming to her +and he caught it as it passed. It must be allowed that she permitted it +to linger, as though she understood his wish, but as she was looking at +Orsino, he was pleased. + +"If you will permit me to say it, Madame," he observed, "I have never +seen eyes like yours." + +He endeavoured to lose himself in their depths as he spoke. Madame +d'Aragona was not in the least annoyed by the remark, nor by the look. + +"What is there so very unusual about my eyes?" she enquired. The smile +grew a little more faint and thoughtful but did not disappear. + +"In the first place, I have never seen eyes of a golden-yellow colour." + +"Tigers have yellow eyes," observed Madame d'Aragona. + +"My acquaintance with that animal is at second hand--slight, to say the +least." + +"You have never shot one?" + +"Never, Madame. They do not abound in Rome--nor even, I believe, in +Albano. My father killed one when he was a young man." + +"Prince Saracinesca?" + +"Sant' Ilario. My grandfather is still alive." + +"How splendid! I adore strong races." + +"It is very interesting," observed Gouache, poking the stick of a brush +into the eye of his picture. "I have painted three generations of the +family, I who speak to you, and I hope to paint the fourth if Don Orsino +here can be cured of his cynicism and induced to marry Donna--what is +her name?" He turned to the young man. + +"She has none--and she is likely to remain nameless," answered Orsino +gloomily. + +"We will call her Donna Ignota," suggested Madame d'Aragona. + +"And build altars to the unknown love," added Gouache. + +Madame d'Aragona smiled faintly, but Orsino persisted in looking grave. + +"It seems to be an unpleasant subject, Prince." + +"Very unpleasant, Madame," answered Orsino shortly. + +Thereupon Madame d'Aragona looked at Gouache and raised her brows a +little as though to ask a question, knowing perfectly well that Orsino +was watching her. The young man could not see the painter's eyes, and +the latter did not betray by any gesture that he was answering the +silent interrogation. + +"Then I have eyes like a tiger, you say. You frighten me. How +disagreeable--to look like a wild beast!" + +"It is a prejudice," returned Orsino. "One hears people say of a woman +that she is beautiful as a tigress." + +"An idea!" exclaimed Gouache, interrupting. "Shall I change the damask +cloak to a tiger's skin? One claw just hanging over the white +shoulder--Omphale, you know--in a modern drawing-room--a small cast of +the Farnese Hercules upon a bracket, there, on the right. Decidedly, +here is an idea. Do you permit, Madame!" + +"Anything you like--only do not spoil the likeness," answered Madame +d'Aragona, leaning back in her chair, and looking sleepily at Orsino +from beneath her heavy, half-closed lids. + +"You will spoil the whole picture," said Orsino, rather anxiously. + +Gouache laughed. + +"What harm if I do? I can restore it in five minutes--" + +"Five minutes!" + +"An hour, if you insist upon accuracy of statement," replied Gouache +with a shade of annoyance. + +He had an idea, and like most people whom fate occasionally favours with +that rare commodity he did not like to be disturbed in the realisation +of it. He was already squeezing out quantities of tawny colours upon his +palette. + +"I am a passive instrument," said Madame d'Aragona. "He does what he +pleases. These men of genius--what would you have? Yesterday a gown from +Worth--to-day a tiger's skin--indeed, I tremble for to-morrow." + +She laughed a little and turned her head away. + +"You need not fear," answered Gouache, daubing in his new idea with an +enormous brush. "Fashions change. Woman endures. Beauty is eternal. +There is nothing which may not be made becoming to a beautiful woman." + +"My dear Gouache, you are insufferable. You are always telling me that I +am beautiful. Look at my nose." + +"Yes. I am looking at it." + +"And my mouth." + +"I look. I see. I admire. Have you any other personal observations to +make? How many claws has a tiger, Don Orsino? Quick! I am painting the +thing." + +"One less than a woman." + +Madame d'Aragona looked at the young man a moment, and broke into a +laugh. + +"There is a charming speech. I like that better than Gouache's +flattery." + +"And yet you admit that the portrait is like you," said Gouache. + +"Perhaps I flatter you, too." + +"Ah! I had not thought of that." + +"You should be more modest." + +"I lose myself--" + +"Where?" + +"In your eyes, Madame. One, two, three, four--are you sure a tiger has +only four claws? Where is the creature's thumb--what do you call it? It +looks awkward." + +"The dew-claw?" asked Orsino. "It is higher up, behind the paw. You +would hardly see it in the skin." + +"But a cat has five claws," said Madame d'Aragona. "Is not a tiger a +cat? We must have the thing right, you know, if it is to be done at +all." + +"Has a cat five claws?" asked Anastase, appealing anxiously to Orsino. + +"Of course, but you would only see four on the skin." + +"I insist upon knowing," said Madame d'Aragona. "This is dreadful! Has +no one got a tiger? What sort of studio is this--with no tiger!" + +"I am not Sarah Bernhardt, nor the emperor of Siam," observed Gouache, +with a laugh. + +But Madame d'Aragona was not satisfied. + +"I am sure you could procure me one, Prince," she said, turning to +Orsino. "I am sure you could, if you would! I shall cry if I do not have +one, and it will be your fault." + +"Would you like the animal alive or dead?" inquired Orsino gravely, and +he rose from his seat. + +"Ah, I knew you could procure the thing!" she exclaimed with grateful +enthusiasm. "Alive or dead, Gouache? Quick--decide!" + +"As you please, Madame. If you decide to have him alive, I will ask +permission to exchange a few words with my wife and children, while some +one goes for a priest." + +"You are sublime, to-day. Dead, then, if you please, Prince. Quite +dead--but do not say that I was afraid--" + +"Afraid? With, a Saracinesca and a Gouache to defend your life, Madame? +You are not serious." + +Orsino took his hat. + +"I shall be back in a quarter of an hour," he said, as he bowed and went +out. + +Madame d'Aragona watched his tall young figure till he disappeared. + +"He does not lack spirit, your young friend," she observed. + +"No member of that family ever did, I think," Gouache answered. "They +are a remarkable race." + +"And he is the only son?" + +"Oh no! He has three younger brothers." + +"Poor fellow! I suppose the fortune is not very large." + +"I have no means of knowing," replied Gouache indifferently. "Their +palace is historic. Their equipages are magnificent. That is all that +foreigners see of Roman families." + +"But you know them intimately?" + +"Intimately--that is saying too much. I have painted their portraits." + +Madame d'Aragona wondered why he was so reticent, for she knew that he +had himself married the daughter of a Roman prince, and she concluded +that he must know much of the Romans. + +"Do you think he will bring the tiger?" she asked presently. + +"He is quite capable of bringing a whole menagerie of tigers for you to +choose from." + +"How interesting. I like men who stop at nothing. It was really +unpardonable of you to suggest the idea and then to tell me calmly that +you had no model for it." + +In the meantime Orsino had descended the stairs and was hailing a +passing cab. He debated for a moment what he should do. It chanced that +at that time there was actually a collection of wild beasts to be seen +in the Prati di Castello, and Orsino supposed that the owner might be +induced, for a large consideration, to part with one of his tigers. He +even imagined that he might shoot the beast and bring it back in the +cab. But, in the first place, he was not provided with an adequate sum +of money nor did he know exactly how to lay his hand on so large a sum +as might be necessary, at a moment's notice. He was still under age, and +his allowance had not been calculated with a view to his buying +menageries. Moreover he considered that even if his pockets had been +full of bank notes, the idea was ridiculous, and he was rather ashamed +of his youthful impulse. It occurred to him that what was necessary for +the picture was not the carcase of the tiger but the skin, and he +remembered that such a skin lay on the floor in his father's private +room--the spoil of the animal Giovanni Saracinesca had shot in his +youth. It had been well cared for and was a fine specimen. + +"Palazzo Saracinesca," he said to the cabman. + +Now it chanced, as such things will chance in the inscrutable ways of +fate, that Sant' Ilario was just then in that very room and busy with +his correspondence. Orsino had hoped to carry off what he wanted, +without being questioned, in order to save time, but he now found +himself obliged to explain his errand. + +Sant' Ilario looked, up in some surprise as his son entered. + +"Well, Orsino? Is anything the matter?" he asked. + +"Nothing serious, father. I want to borrow your tiger's skin for +Gouache. Will you lend it to me?" + +"Of course. But what in the world does Gouache want of it? Is he +painting you in skins--the primeval youth of the forest?" + +"No--not exactly. The fact is, there is a lady there. Gouache talks of +painting her as a modern Omphale, with a tiger's skin and a cast of +Hercules in the background--" + +"Hercules wore a lion's skin--not a tiger's. He killed the Nemean lion." + +"Did he?" inquired Orsino indifferently. "It is all the same--they do +not know it, and they want a tiger. When I left they were debating +whether they wanted it alive or dead. I thought of buying one at the +Prati di Castello, but it seemed cheaper to borrow the skin of you. May +I take it?" + +Sant' Ilario laughed. Orsino rolled up the great hide and carried it to +the door. + +"Who is the lady, my boy?" + +"I never saw her before--a certain Donna Maria d'Aranjuez d'Aragona. I +fancy she must be a kind of cousin. Do you know anything about her?" + +"I never heard of such a person. Is that her own name?" + +"No--she seems to be somebody's widow." + +"That is definite. What is she like?" + +"Passably handsome--yellow eyes, reddish hair, one eye wanders." + +"What an awful picture! Do not fall in love with her, Orsino." + +"No fear of that--but she is amusing, and she wants the tiger." + +"You seem to be in a hurry," observed Sant' Ilario, considerably amused. + +"Naturally. They are waiting for me." + +"Well, go as fast as you can--never keep a woman waiting. By the way, +bring the skin back. I would rather you bought twenty live tigers at the +Prati than lose that old thing." + +Orsino promised and was soon in his cab on the way to Gouache's studio, +having the skin rolled up on his knees, the head hanging out on one side +and the tail on the other, to the infinite interest of the people in the +street. He was just congratulating himself on having wasted so little +time in conversation with his father, when the figure of a tall woman +walking towards him on the pavement, arrested his attention. His cab +must pass close by her, and there was no mistaking his mother at a +hundred yards' distance. She saw him too and made a sign with her +parasol for him to stop. + +"Good-morning, Orsino," said the sweet deep voice. + +"Good-morning, mother," he answered, as he descended hat in hand, and +kissed the gloved fingers she extended to him. + +He could not help thinking, as he looked at her, that she was infinitely +more beautiful even now than Madame d'Aragona. As for Corona, it seemed +to her that there was no man on earth to compare with her eldest son, +except Giovanni himself, and there all comparison ceased. Their eyes met +affectionately and it would have been, hard to say which was the more +proud of the other, the son of his mother, or the mother of her son. +Nevertheless Orsino was in a hurry. Anticipating all questions he told +her in as few words as possible the nature of his errand, the object of +the tiger's skin, and the name of the lady who was sitting to Gouache. + +"It is strange," said Corona. "I have never heard your father speak of +her." + +"He has never heard of her either. He just told me so." + +"I have almost enough curiosity to get into your cab and go with you." + +"Do, mother." There was not much enthusiasm in the answer. + +Corona looked at him, smiled, and shook her head. + +"Foolish boy! Did you think I was in earnest? I should only spoil your +amusement in the studio, and the lady would see that I had come to +inspect her. Two good reasons--but the first is the better, dear. Go--do +not keep them waiting." + +"Will you not take my cab? I can get another." + +"No. I am in no hurry. Good-bye." + +And nodding to him with an affectionate smile, Corona passed on, leaving +Orsino free at last to carry the skin to its destination. + +When he entered the studio he found Madame d'Aragona absorbed in the +contemplation of a piece of old tapestry which hung opposite to her, +while Gouache was drawing in a tiny Hercules, high up in the right hand +corner of the picture, as he had proposed. The conversation seemed to +have languished, and Orsino was immediately conscious that the +atmosphere had changed since he had left. He unrolled the skin as he +entered, and Madame d'Aragona looked at it critically. She saw that the +tawny colours would become her in the portrait and her expression grew +more animated. + +"It is really very good of you," she said, with a grateful glance. + +"I have a disappointment in store for you," answered Orsino. "My father +says that Hercules wore a lion's skin. He is quite right, I remember all +about it." + +"Of course," said Gouache. "How could we make such a mistake!" + +He dropped the bit of chalk he held and looked at Madame d'Aragona. + +"What difference does it make?" asked the latter. "A lion--a tiger! I am +sure they are very much alike." + +"After all, it is a tiresome idea," said the painter. "You will be much +better in the damask cloak. Besides, with the lion's skin you should +have the club--imagine a club in your hands! And Hercules should be +spinning at your feet--a man in a black coat and a high collar, with a +distaff! It is an absurd idea." + +"You should not call my ideas absurd and tiresome. It is not civil." + +"I thought it had been mine," observed Gouache. + +"Not at all. I thought of it--it was quite original." + +Gouache laughed a little and looked at Orsino as though asking his +opinion. + +"Madame is right," said the latter. "She suggested the whole idea--by +having yellow eyes." + +"You see, Gouache. I told you so. The Prince takes my view. What will +you do?" + +"Whatever you command--" + +"But I do not want to be ridiculous--" + +"I do not see--" + +"And yet I must have the tiger." + +"I am ready." + +"Doubtless--but you must think of another subject, with a tiger in it." + +"Nothing easier. Noble Roman damsel--Colosseum--tiger about to +spring--rose--" + +"Just heaven! What an old story! Besides, I have not the type." + +"The 'Mysteries of Dionysus,'" suggested Gouache. "Thyrsus, leopard's +skin--" + +"A Bacchante! Fie, Monsieur--and then, the leopard, when we only have a +tiger." + +"Indian princess interviewed by a man-eater--jungle--new moon--tropical +vegetation--" + +"You can think of nothing but subjects for a dark type," said Madame +d'Aragona impatiently. + +"The fact is, in countries where the tiger walks abroad, the women are +generally brunettes." + +"I hate facts. You who are enthusiastic, can you not help us?" She +turned to Orsino. + +"Am I enthusiastic?" + +"Yes, I am sure of it. Think of something." + +Orsino was not pleased. He would have preferred to be thought cold and +impassive. + +"What can I say? The first idea was the best. Get a lion instead of a +tiger--nothing is simpler." + +"For my part I prefer the damask cloak and the original picture," said +Gouache with decision. "All this mythology is too complicated--too +Pompeian--how shall I say? Besides there is no distinct allusion. A +Hercules on a bracket--anybody may have that. If you were the Marchessa +di San Giacinto, for instance--oh, then everyone would laugh." + +"Why? What is that?" + +"She married my cousin," said Orsino. "He is an enormous giant, and they +say that she has tamed him." + +"Ah no! That would not do. Something else, please." + +Orsino involuntarily thought of a sphynx as he looked at the massive +brow, the yellow, sleepy eyes, and the heavy mouth. He wondered how the +late Aranjuez had lived and what death he had died. + +He offered the suggestion. + +"It would be appropriate," replied Madame d'Aragona. "The Sphynx in the +Desert. Rome is a desert to me." + +"It only depends on you--" Orsino began. + +"Oh, of course! To make acquaintances, to show myself a little +everywhere--it is simple enough. But it wearies me--until one is caught +up in the machinery, a toothed wheel going round with the rest, one only +bores oneself, and I may leave so soon. Decidedly it is not worth the +trouble. Is it?" + +She turned her eyes to Orsino as though asking his advice. Orsino +laughed. + +"How can you ask that question!" he exclaimed. "Only let the trouble be +ours." + +"Ah! I said you were enthusiastic." She shook her head, and rose from +her seat. "It is time for me to go. We have done nothing this morning, +and it is all your fault, Prince." + +"I am distressed--I will not intrude upon your next sitting." + +"Oh--as far as that is concerned--" She did not finish the sentence, but +took up the neglected tiger's skin from the chair on which it lay. + +She threw it over her shoulders, bringing the grinning head over her +hair and holding the forepaws in her pointed white fingers. She came +very near to Gouache and looked into his eyes, her closed lips smiling. + +"Admirable!" exclaimed Gouache. "It is impossible to tell where the +woman ends and the tiger begins. Let me draw you like that." + +"Oh no! Not for anything in the world." + +She turned away quickly and dropped the skin from her shoulders. + +"You will not stay a little longer? You will not let me try?" Gouache +seemed disappointed. + +"Impossible," she answered, putting on her hat and beginning to arrange +her veil before a mirror. + +Orsino watched her as she stood, her arms uplifted, in an attitude which +is almost always graceful, even for an otherwise ungraceful woman. +Madame d'Aragona was perhaps a little too short, but she was justly +proportioned and appeared to be rather slight, though the tight-fitting +sleeves of her frock betrayed a remarkably well turned arm. Not seeing +her face, one might not have singled her out of many as a very striking +woman, for she had neither the stateliness of Orsino's mother, nor the +enchanting grace which distinguished Gouache's wife. But no one could +look into her eyes without feeling that she was very far from being an +ordinary woman. + +"Quite impossible," she repeated, as she tucked in the ends of her veil +and then turned upon the two men. "The next sitting? Whenever you +like--to-morrow--the day after--name the time." + +"When to-morrow is possible, there is no choice," said Gouache, "unless +you will come again to-day." + +"To-morrow, then, good-bye." She held out her hand. + +"There are sketches on each of my fingers, Madame--principally, of +tigers." + +"Good-bye then--consider your hand shaken. Are you going, Prince?" + +Orsino had taken his hat and was standing beside her. + +"You will allow me to put you into your carriage." + +"I shall walk." + +"So much the better. Good-bye, Monsieur Gouache." + +"Why say, Monsieur?" + +"As you like--you are older than I." + +"I? Who has told you that legend? It is only a myth. When you are sixty +years old, I shall still be five-and-twenty." + +"And I?" enquired Madame d'Aragona, who was still young enough to laugh +at age. + +"As old as you were yesterday, not a day older." + +"Why not say to-day?" + +"Because to-day has a to-morrow--yesterday has none." + +"You are delicious, my dear Gouache. Good-bye." + +Madame d'Aragona went out with Orsino, and they descended the broad +staircase together. Orsino was not sure whether he might not be showing +too much anxiety to remain in the company of his new acquaintance, and +as he realised how unpleasant it would be to sacrifice the walk with +her, he endeavoured to excuse to himself his derogation from his +self-imposed character of cool superiority and indifference. She was +very amusing, he said to himself, and he had nothing in the world to do. +He never had anything to do, since his education had been completed. Why +should he not walk with Madame d'Aragona and talk to her? It would be +better than hanging about the club or reading a novel at home. The +hounds did not meet on that day, or he would not have been at Gouache's +at all. But they were to meet to-morrow, and he would therefore not see +Madame d'Aragona. + +"Gouache is an old friend of yours, I suppose," observed the lady. + +"He was a friend of my father's. He is almost a Roman. He married a +distant connection of mine, Donna Faustina Montevarchi." + +"Ah yes--I have heard. He is a man of immense genius." + +"He is a man I envy with all my heart," said Orsino. + +"You envy Gouache? I should not have thought--" + +"No? Ah, Madame, to me a man who has a career, a profession, an +interest, is a god." + +"I like that," answered Madame d'Aragona. "But it seems to me you have +your choice. You have the world before you. Write your name upon it. You +do not lack enthusiasm. Is it the inspiration that you need?" + +"Perhaps," said Orsino glancing meaningly at her as she looked at him. + +"That is not new," thought she, "but he is charming, all the same. They +say," she added aloud, "that genius finds inspiration everywhere." + +"Alas, I am not a genius. What I ask is an occupation, and permanent +interest. The thing is impossible, but I am not resigned." + +"Before thirty everything is possible," said Madame d'Aragona. She knew +that the mere mention of so mature an age would be flattering to such a +boy. + +"The objections are insurmountable," replied Orsino. + +"What objections? Remember that I do not know Rome, nor the Romans." + +"We are petrified in traditions. Spicca said the other day that there +was but one hope for us. The Americans may yet discover Italy, as we +once discovered America." + +Madame d'Aragona smiled. + +"Who is Spicca?" she enquired, with a lazy glance at her companion's +face. + +"Spicca? Surely you have heard of him. He used to be a famous duellist. +He is our great wit. My father likes him very much--he is an odd +character." + +"There will be all the more credit in succeeding, if you have to break +through a barrier of tradition and prejudice," said Madame d'Aragona, +reverting rather abruptly to the first subject. + +"You do not know what that means." Orsino shook his head incredulously. +"You have never tried it." + +"No. How could a woman be placed in such a position?" + +"That is just it. You cannot understand me." + +"That does not follow. Women often understand men--men they love or +detest--better than men themselves." + +"Do you love me, Madame?" asked Orsino with a smile. + +"I have just made your acquaintance," laughed Madame d'Aragona. "It is a +little too soon." + +"But then, according to you, if you understand me, you detest me." + +"Well? If I do?" She was still laughing. + +"Then I ought to disappear, I suppose." + +"You do not understand women. Anything is better than indifference. +When you see that you are disliked, then refuse to go away. It is the +very moment to remain. Do not submit to dislike. Revenge yourself." + +"I will try," said Orsino, considerably amused. + +"Upon me?" + +"Since you advise it--" + +"Have I said that I detest you?" + +"More or less." + +"It was only by way of illustration to my argument. I was not serious." + +"You have not a serious character, I fancy," said Orsino. + +"Do you dare to pass judgment on me after an hour's acquaintance?" + +"Since you have judged me! You have said five times that I am +enthusiastic." + +"That is an exaggeration. Besides, one cannot say a true thing too +often." + +"How you run on, Madame!" + +"And you--to tell me to my face that I am not serious! It is unheard of. +Is that the way you talk to your compatriots?" + +"It would not be true. But they would contradict me, as you do. They +wish to be thought gay." + +"Do they? I would like to know them." + +"Nothing is easier. Will you allow me the honour of undertaking the +matter?" + +They had reached the door of Madame d'Aragona's hotel. She stood still +and looked curiously at Orsino. + +"Certainly not," she answered, rather coldly. "It would be asking too +much of you--too much of society, and far too much of me. Thanks. +Good-bye." + +"May I come and see you?" asked Orsino. + +He knew very well that he had gone too far, and his voice was correctly +contrite. + +"I daresay we shall meet somewhere," she answered, entering the hotel. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + + +The rage of speculation was at its height in Rome. Thousands, perhaps +hundreds of thousands of persons were embarked in enterprises which soon +afterwards ended in total ruin to themselves and in very serious injury +to many of the strongest financial bodies in the country. Yet it is a +fact worth recording that the general principle upon which affairs were +conducted was an honest one. The land was a fact, the buildings put up +were facts, and there was actually a certain amount of capital, of +genuine ready money, in use. The whole matter can be explained in a few +words. + +The population of Rome had increased considerably since the Italian +occupation, and house-room was needed for the newcomers. Secondly, the +partial execution of the scheme for beautifying the city had destroyed +great numbers of dwellings in the most thickly populated parts, and more +house-room was needed to compensate the loss of habitations, while +extensive lots of land were suddenly set free and offered for sale upon +easy conditions in all parts of the town. + +Those who availed themselves of these opportunities before the general +rush began, realised immense profits, especially when they had some +capital of their own to begin with. But capital was not indispensable. A +man could buy his lot on credit; the banks were ready to advance him +money on notes of hand, in small amounts at high interest, wherewith to +build his house or houses. When the building was finished the bank took +a first mortgage upon the property, the owner let the house, paid the +interest on the mortgage out of the rent and pocketed the difference, as +clear gain. In the majority of eases it was the bank itself which sold +the lot of land to the speculator. It is clear therefore that the only +money which actually changed hands was that advanced in small sums by +the bank itself. + +As the speculation increased, the banks could not of course afford to +lock up all the small notes of hand they received from various quarters. +This paper became a circulating medium as far as Vienna, Paris and even +London. The crash came when Vienna, Paris and London lost faith in the +paper, owing, in the first instance, to one or two small failures, and +returned it upon Rome; the banks, unable to obtain cash for it at any +price, and being short of ready money, could then no longer discount the +speculator's further notes of hand; so that the speculator found himself +with half-built houses upon his hands which he could neither let, nor +finish, nor sell, and owing money upon bills which he had expected to +meet by giving the bank a mortgage on the now valueless property. + +That is what took place in the majority of cases, and it is not +necessary to go into further details, though of course chance played all +the usual variations upon the theme of ruin. + +What distinguishes the period of speculation in Rome from most other +manifestations of the kind in Europe is the prominent part played in it +by the old land-holding families, a number of which were ruined in wild +schemes which no sensible man of business would have touched. This was +more or less the result of recent changes in the laws regulating the +power of persons making a will. + +Previous to 1870 the law of primogeniture was as much respected in Rome +as in England, and was carried out with considerably greater strictness. +The heir got everything, the other children got practically nothing but +the smallest pittance. The palace, the gallery of pictures and statues, +the lands, the villages and the castles, descended in unbroken +succession from eldest son to eldest son, indivisible in principle and +undivided in fact. + +The new law requires that one half of the total property shall be +equally distributed by the testator amongst all his children. He may +leave the other half to any one he pleases, and as a matter of practice +he of course leaves it to his eldest son. + +Another law, however, forbids the alienation of all collections of works +of art either wholly or in part, if they have existed as such for a +certain length of time, and if the public has been admitted daily or on +any fixed days, to visit them. It is not in the power of the Borghese, +or the Colonna, for instance, to sell a picture or a statue out of their +galleries, nor to raise money upon such an object by mortgage or +otherwise. + +Yet these works of art figure at a very high valuation, in the total +property of which the testator must divide one half amongst his +children, though in point of fact they yield no income whatever. But it +is of no use to divide them, since none of the heirs could be at liberty +to take them away nor realise their value in any manner. + +The consequence is, that the principal heir, after the division has +taken place, finds himself the nominal master of certain enormously +valuable possessions, which in reality yield him nothing or next to +nothing. He also foresees that in the next generation the same state of +things will exist in a far higher degree, and that the position of the +head of the family will go from bad to worse until a crisis of some kind +takes place. + +Such a case has recently occurred. A certain Roman prince is bankrupt. +The sale of his gallery would certainly relieve the pressure, and would +possibly free him from debt altogether. But neither he nor his creditors +can lay a finger upon the pictures, nor raise a centime upon them. This +man, therefore, is permanently reduced to penury, and his creditors are +large losers, while he is still _de jure_ and _de facto_ the owner of +property probably sufficient to cover all his obligations. Fortunately, +he chances to be childless, a fact consoling, perhaps, to the +philanthropist, but not especially so to the sufferer himself. + +It is clear that the temptation to increase "distributable" property, +if one may coin such, an expression, is very great, and accounts for the +way in which many Roman gentlemen have rushed headlong into speculation, +though possessing none of the qualities necessary for success, and only +one of the requisites, namely, a certain amount of ready money, or free +and convertible property. A few have been fortunate, while the majority +of those who have tried the experiment have been heavy losers. It cannot +be said that any one of them all has shown natural talent for finance. + +Let the reader forgive these dry explanations if he can. The facts +explained have a direct bearing upon the story I am telling, but shall +not, as mere facts, be referred to again. + +I have already said that Ugo Del Ferice had returned to Rome soon after +the change, had established himself with his wife, Donna Tullia, and was +at the time I am speaking about, deeply engaged in the speculations of +the day. He had once been, tolerably popular in society, having been +looked upon as a harmless creature, useful in his way and very obliging. +But the circumstances which had attended his flight some years earlier +had become known, and most of his old acquaintances turned him the cold +shoulder. He had expected this and was neither disappointed nor +humiliated. He had made new friends and acquaintances during his exile, +and it was to his interest to stand by them. Like many of those who had +played petty and dishonourable parts in the revolutionary times, he had +succeeded in building up a reputation for patriotism upon a very slight +foundation, and had found persons willing to believe him a sufferer who +had escaped martyrdom for the cause, and had deserved the crown of +election to a constituency as a just reward of his devotion. The Romans +cared very little what became of him. The old Blacks confounded Victor +Emmanuel with Garibaldi, Cavour with Persiano, and Silvio Pellico with +Del Ferice in one sweeping condemnation, desiring nothing so much as +never to hear the hated names mentioned in their houses. The Grey +party, being also Roman, disapproved of Ugo on general principles and +particularly because he had been a spy, but the Whites, not being Romans +at all and entertaining an especial detestation for every distinctly +Roman opinion, received him at his own estimation, as society receives +most people who live in good houses, give good dinners and observe the +proprieties in the matter of visiting-cards. Those who knew anything +definite of the man's antecedents were mostly persons who had little +histories of their own, and they told no tales out of school. The great +personages who had once employed him would have been magnanimous enough +to acknowledge him in any case, but were agreeably disappointed when +they discovered that he was not amongst the common herd of pension +hunters, and claimed no substantial rewards save their politeness and a +line in the visiting lists of their wives. And as he grew in wealth and +importance they found that he could be useful still, as bank directors +and members of parliament can be, in a thousand ways. So it came to pass +that the Count and Countess Del Ferice became prominent persons in the +Roman world. + +Ugo was a man of undoubted talent. By his own individual efforts, though +with small scruple as to the means he employed, he had raised himself +from obscurity to a very enviable position. He had only once in his life +been carried away by the weakness of a personal enmity, and he had been +made to pay heavily for his caprice. If Donna Tullia had abandoned him +when he was driven out of Rome by the influence of the Saracinesca, he +might have disappeared altogether from the scene. But she was an odd +compound of rashness and foresight, of belief and unbelief, and she had +at that time felt herself bound by an oath she dared not break, besides +being attached to him by a hatred of Giovanni Saracinesca almost as +great as his own. She had followed him and had married him without +hesitation; but she had kept the undivided possession of her fortune +while allowing him a liberal use of her income. In return, she claimed +a certain liberty of action when she chose to avail herself of it. She +would not be bound in the choice of her acquaintances nor criticised in +the measure of like or dislike she bestowed upon them. She was by no +means wholly bad, and if she had a harmless fancy now and then, she +required her husband to treat her as above suspicion. On the whole, the +arrangement worked very well. Del Ferice, on his part, was unswervingly +faithful to her in word and deed, for he exhibited in a high degree that +unfaltering constancy which is bred of a permanent, unalienable, +financial interest. Bad men are often clever, but if their cleverness is +of a superior order they rarely do anything bad. It is true that when +they yield to the pressure of necessity their wickedness surpasses that +of other men in the same degree as their intelligence. Not only honesty, +but all virtue collectively, is the best possible policy, provided that +the politician can handle such a tremendous engine of evil as goodness +is in the hands of a thoroughly bad man. + +Those who desired pecuniary accommodation of the bank in which Del +Ferice had an interest, had no better friend than he. His power with the +directors seemed to be as boundless as his desire to assist the +borrower. But he was helpless to prevent the foreclosure of a mortgage, +and had been moved almost to tears in the expression of his sympathy +with the debtor and of his horror at the hard-heartedness shown by his +partners. To prove his disinterested spirit it only need be said that on +many occasions he had actually come forward as a private individual and +had taken over the mortgage himself, distinctly stating that he could +not hold it for more than a year, but expressing a hope that the debtor +might in that time retrieve himself. If this really happened, he earned +the man's eternal gratitude; if not, he foreclosed indeed, but the loser +never forgot that by Del Fence's kindness he had been offered a last +chance at a desperate moment. It could not be said to be Del Ferice's +fault that the second case was the more frequent one, nor that the +result to himself was profit in either event. + +In his dealings with his constituency he showed a noble desire for the +public welfare, for he was never known to refuse anything in reason to +the electors who applied to him. It is true that in the case of certain +applications, he consumed so much time in preliminary enquiries and +subsequent formalities that the applicants sometimes died and sometimes +emigrated to the Argentine Republic before the matter could be settled; +but they bore with them to South America--or to the grave--the belief +that the Onorevole Del Ferice was on their side, and the instances of +his prompt, decisive and successful action were many. He represented a +small town in the Neapolitan Province, and the benefits and advantages +he had obtained for it were numberless. The provincial high road had +been made to pass through it; all express trains stopped at its station, +though the passengers who made use of the inestimable privilege did not +average twenty in the month; it possessed a Piazza Vittorio Emmanuela, a +Corso Garibaldi, a Via Cavour, a public garden of at least a quarter of +an acre, planted with no less than twenty-five acacias and adorned by a +fountain representing a desperate-looking character in the act of firing +a finely executed revolver at an imaginary oppressor. Pigs were not +allowed within the limits of the town, and the uniforms of the municipal +brass band were perfectly new. Could civilisation do more? The bank of +which Del Ferice was a director bought the octroi duties of the town at +the periodical auction, and farmed them skilfully, together with those +of many other towns in the same province. + +So Del Ferice was a very successful man, and it need scarcely be said +that he was now not only independent of his wife's help but very much +richer than she had ever been. They lived in a highly decorated, +detached modern house in the new part of the city. The gilded gate +before the little plot of garden, bore their intertwined initials, +surmounted by a modest count's coronet. Donna Tullia would have +preferred a coat of arms, or even a crest, but Ugo was sensitive to +ridicule, and he was aware that a count's coronet in Rome means nothing +at all, whereas a coat of arms means vastly more than in most cities. + +Within, the dwelling was somewhat unpleasantly gorgeous. Donna Tullia +had always loved red, both for itself and because it made her own +complexion seem less florid by contrast, and accordingly red satin +predominated in the drawing-rooms, red velvet in the dining-room, red +damask in the hall and red carpets on the stairs. Some fine specimens of +gilding were also to be seen, and Del Ferice had been one of the first +to use electric light. Everything was new, expensive and polished to its +extreme capacity for reflection. The servants wore vivid liveries and on +formal occasions the butler appeared in short-clothes and black silk +stockings. Donna Tullia's equipage was visible at a great distance, but +Del Fence's own coachman and groom wore dark green with, black +epaulettes. + +On the morning which Orsino and Madame d'Aragona had spent in Gouache's +studio the Countess Del Ferice entered her husband's study in order to +consult him upon a rather delicate matter. He was alone, but busy as +usual. His attention was divided between an important bank operation and +a petition for his help in obtaining a decoration for the mayor of the +town he represented. The claim to this distinction seemed to rest +chiefly on the petitioner's unasked evidence in regard to his own moral +rectitude, yet Del Ferice was really exercising all his ingenuity to +discover some suitable reason for asking the favour. He laid the papers +down with a sigh as Donna Tullia came in. + +"Good morning, my angel," he said suavely, as he pointed to a chair at +his side--the one usually occupied at this hour by seekers for financial +support. "Have you rested well?" + +He never failed to ask the question. + +"Not badly, not badly, thank Heaven!" answered Donna Tullia. "I have a +dreadful cold, of course, and a headache--my head is really splitting." + +"Rest--rest is what you need, my dear--" + +"Oh, it is nothing. This Durakoff is a great man. If he had not made me +go to Carlsbad--I really do not know. But I have something to say to +you. I want your help, Ugo. Please listen to me." + +Ugo's fat white face already expressed anxious attention. To accentuate +the expression of his readiness to listen, he now put all his papers +into a drawer and turned towards his wife. + +"I must go to the Jubilee," said Donna Tullia, coming to the point. + +"Of course you must go--" + +"And I must have my seat among the Roman ladies" + +"Of course you must," repeated Del Ferice with a little less alacrity. + +"Ah! You see. It is not so easy. You know it is not. Yet I have as good +a right to my seat as any one--better perhaps." + +"Hardly that," observed Ugo with a smile. "When you married me, my +angel, you relinquished your claims to a seat at the Vatican functions." + +"I did nothing of the kind. I never said so, I am sure." + +"Perhaps if you could make that clear to the majorduomo--" + +"Absurd, Ugo. You know it is. Besides, I will not beg. You must get me +the seat. You can do anything with your influence." + +"You could easily get into one of the diplomatic tribunes," observed +Ugo. + +"I will not go there. I mean to assert myself. I am a Roman lady and I +will have my seat, and you must get it for me." + +"I will do my best. But I do not quite see where I am to begin. It will +need time and consideration and much tact." + +"It seems to me very simple. Go to one of the clerical deputies and say +that you want the ticket for your wife--" + +"And then?" + +"Give him to understand that you will vote for his next measure. Nothing +could be simpler, I am sure." + +Del Ferice smiled blandly at his wife's ideas of parliamentary +diplomacy. + +"There are no clerical deputies in the parliament of the nation. If +there were the thing might be possible, and it would be very interesting +to all the clericals to read an account of the transaction in the +Osservatore Romano. In any case, I am not sure that it will be much to +our advantage that the wife of the Onorevole Del Ferice should be seen +seated in the midst of the Black ladies. It will produce an unfavourable +impression." + +"If you are going to talk of impressions--" Donna Tullia shrugged her +massive shoulders. + +"No, my dear. You mistake me. I am not going to talk of them, because, +as I at once told you, it is quite right that you should go to this +affair. If you go, you must go in the proper way. No doubt there will be +people who will have invitations but will not use them. We can perhaps +procure you the use of such a ticket." + +"I do not care what name is on the paper, provided I can sit in the +right place." + +"Very well," answered Del Ferice. "I will do my best." + +"I expect it of you, Ugo. It is not often that I ask anything of you, is +it? It is the least you can do. The idea of getting a card that is not +to be used is good; of course they will all get them, and some of them +are sure to be ill." + +Donna Tullia went away satisfied that what she wanted would be +forthcoming at the right moment. What she had said was true. She rarely +asked anything of her husband. But when she did, she gave him to +understand that she would have it at any price. It was her way of +asserting herself from time to time. On the present occasion she had no +especial interest at stake and any other woman might have been satisfied +with a seat in the diplomatic tribune, which could probably have been +obtained without great difficulty. But she had heard that the seats +there were to be very high and she did not really wish to be placed in +too prominent a position. The light might be unfavourable, and she knew +that she was subject to growing very red in places where it was hot. She +had once been a handsome woman and a very vain one, but even her vanity +could not survive the daily shock of the looking-glass torture. To sit +for four or five hours in a high light, facing fifty thousand people, +was more than she could bear with equanimity. + +Del Ferice, being left to himself, returned to the question of the +mayor's decoration which was of vastly greater importance to him than +his wife's position at the approaching function. If he failed to get the +man what he wanted, the fellow would doubtless apply to some one of the +opposite party, would receive the coveted honour and would take the +whole voting population of the town with him at the next general +election, to the total discomfiture of Del Ferice. It was necessary to +find some valid reason for proposing him for the distinction. Ugo could +not decide what to do just then, but he ultimately hit upon a successful +plan. He advised his correspondent to write a pamphlet upon the rapid +improvement of agricultural interests in his district under the existing +ministry, and he even went so far as to enclose with his letter some +notes on the subject. These notes proved to be so voluminous and +complete that when the mayor had copied them he could not find a pretext +for adding a single word or correction. They were printed upon excellent +paper, with ornamental margins, under the title of "Onward, +Parthenope!" Of course every one knows that Parthenope means Naples, the +Neapolitans and the Neapolitan Province, a siren of that name having +come to final grief somewhere between the Chiatamone and Posilippo. The +mayor got his decoration, and Del Ferice was re-elected; but no one has +inquired into the truth of the statements made in the pamphlet upon +agriculture. + +It is clear that a man who was capable of taking so much trouble for so +small a matter would not disappoint his wife when she had set her heart +upon such a trifle as a ticket for the Jubilee. Within three days he had +the promise of what he wanted. A certain lonely lady of high position +lay very ill just then, and it need scarcely be explained that her +confidential servant fell upon the invitation as soon as it arrived and +sold it for a round sum to the first applicant, who happened to be Count +Del Ferice's valet. So the matter was arranged, privately and without +scandal. + +All Rome was alive with expectation. The date fixed was the first of +January, and as the day approached the curious foreigner mustered in his +thousands and tens of thousands and took the city by storm. The hotels +were thronged. The billiard tables were let as furnished rooms, people +slept in the lifts, on the landings, in the porters' lodges. The thrifty +Romans retreated to roofs and cellars and let their small dwellings. +People reaching the city on the last night slept in the cabs they had +hired to take them to St. Peter's before dawn. Even the supplies of food +ran low and the hungry fed on what they could get, while the delicate of +taste very often did not feed at all. There was of course the usual +scare about a revolutionary demonstration, to which the natives paid +very little attention, but which delighted the foreigners. + +Not more than half of those who hoped to witness the ceremony saw +anything of it, though the basilica will hold some eighty thousand +people at a pinch, and the crowd on that occasion was far greater than +at the opening of the Oecumenical Council in 1869. + +Madame d'Aragona had also determined to be present, and she expressed +her desire to Gouache. She had spoken the strict truth when she had said +that she knew no one in Rome, and so far as general accuracy is +concerned it was equally true that she had not fixed the length of her +stay. She had not come with any settled purpose beyond a vague idea of +having her portrait painted by the French artist, and unless she took +the trouble to make acquaintances, there was nothing attractive enough +about the capital to keep her. She allowed herself to be driven about +the town, on pretence of seeing churches and galleries, but in reality +she saw very little of either. She was preoccupied with her own thoughts +and subject to fits of abstraction. Most things seemed to her intensely +dull, and the unhappy guide who had been selected to accompany her on +her excursions, wasted his learning upon her on the first morning, and +subsequently exhausted the magnificent catalogue of impossibilities +which he had concocted for the especial benefit of the uncultivated +foreigner, without eliciting so much as a look of interest or an +expression of surprise. He was a young and fascinating guide, wearing a +white satin tie, and on the third day he recited some verses of +Stecchetti and was about to risk a declaration of worship in ornate +prose, when he was suddenly rather badly scared by the lady's yellow +eyes, and ran on nervously with a string of deceased popes and their +dates. + +"Get me a card for the Jubilee," she said abruptly. + +"An entrance is very easily procured," answered the guide. "In fact I +have one in my pocket, as it happens. I bought it for twenty francs this +morning, thinking that one of my foreigners would perhaps take it of me. +I do not even gain a franc--my word of honour." + +Madame d'Aragona glanced at the slip of paper. + +"Not that," she answered. "Do you imagine that I will stand? I want a +seat in one of the tribunes." + +The guide lost himself in apologies, but explained that he could not +get what she desired. + +"What are you for?" she inquired. + +She was an indolent woman, but when by any chance she wanted anything, +Donna Tullia herself was not more restless. She drove at once to +Gouache's studio. He was alone and she told him what she needed. + +"The Jubilee, Madame? Is it possible that you have been forgotten?" + +"Since they have never heard of me! I have not the slightest claim to a +place." + +"It is you who say that. But your place is already secured. Fear +nothing. You will be with the Roman ladies." + +"I do not understand--" + +"It is simple. I was thinking of it yesterday. Young Saracinesca comes +in and begins to talk about you. There is Madame d'Aragona who has no +seat, he says. One must arrange that. So it is arranged." + +"By Don Orsino?" + +"You would not accept? No. A young man, and you have only met once. But +tell me what you think of him. Do you like him?" + +"One does not like people so easily as that," said Madame d'Aragona, +"How have you arranged about the seat?" + +"It is very simple. There are to be two days, you know. My wife has her +cards for both, of course. She will only go once. If you will accept the +one for the first day, she will be very happy." + +"You are angelic, my dear friend! Then I go as your wife?" She laughed. + +"Precisely. You will be Faustina Gouache instead of Madame d'Aragona." + +"How delightful! By the bye, do not call me Madame d'Aragona. It is not +my name. I might as well call you Monsieur de Paris, because you are a +Parisian." + +"I do not put Anastase Gouache de Paris on my cards," answered Gouache +with a laugh. "What may I call you? Donna Maria?" + +"My name is Maria Consuelo d'Aranjuez." + +"An ancient Spanish name," said Gouache. + +"My husband was an Italian." + +"Ah! Of Spanish descent, originally of Aragona. Of course." + +"Exactly. Since I am here, shall I sit for you? You might almost finish +to-day." + +"Not so soon as that. It is Don Orsino's hour, but as he has not come, +and since you are so kind--by all means." + +"Ah! Is he punctual?" + +"He is probably running after those abominable dogs in pursuit of the +feeble fox--what they call the noble sport." + +Gouache's face expressed considerable disgust." + +"Poor fellow!" said Maria Consuelo. "He has nothing else to do." + +"He will get used to it. They all do. Besides, it is really the natural +condition of man. Total idleness is his element. If Providence meant man +to work, it should have given him two heads, one for his profession and +one for himself. A man needs one entire and undivided intelligence for +the study of his own individuality." + +"What an idea!" + +"Do not men of great genius notoriously forget themselves, forget to eat +and drink and dress themselves like Christians? That is because they +have not two heads. Providence expects a man to do two things at +once--an air from an opera and invent the steam-engine at the same +moment. Nature rebels. Then Providence and Nature do not agree. What +becomes of religion? It is all a mystery. Believe me, Madame, art is +easier than, nature, and painting is simpler than theology." + +Maria Consuelo listened to Gouache's extraordinary remarks with a smile. + +"You are either paradoxical, or irreligious, or both," she said. + +"Irreligious? I, who carried a rifle at Mentana? No, Madame, I am a good +Catholic." + +"What does that mean?" + +"I believe in God, and I love my wife. I leave it to the Church to +define my other articles of belief. I have only one head, as you see." + +Gouache smiled, but there was a note of sincerity in the odd statement +which did not escape his hearer. + +"You are not of the type which belongs to the end of the century," she +said. + +"That type was not invented when I was forming myself." + +"Perhaps you belong rather to the coming age--the age of +simplification." + +"As distinguished from the age of mystification--religious, political, +scientific and artistic," suggested Gouache. "The people of that day +will guess the Sphynx's riddle." + +"Mine? You were comparing me to a sphynx the other day." + +"Yours, perhaps, Madame. Who knows? Are you the typical woman of the +ending century?" + +"Why not?" asked Maria Consuelo with a sleepy look. + + + + +CHAPTER V. + + +There is something grand in any great assembly of animals belonging to +the same race. The very idea of an immense number of living creatures +conveys an impression not suggested by anything else. A compact herd of +fifty or sixty thousand lions would be an appalling vision, beside which +a like multitude of human beings would sink into insignificance. A drove +of wild cattle is, I think, a finer sight than a regiment of cavalry in +motion, for the cavalry is composite, half man and half horse, whereas +the cattle have the advantage of unity. But we can never see so many +animals of any species driven together into one limited space as to be +equal to a vast throng of men and women, and we conclude naturally +enough that a crowd consisting solely of our own kind is the most +imposing one conceivable. + +It was scarcely light on the morning of New Year's Day when the Princess +Sant' Ilario found herself seated in one of the low tribunes on the +north side of the high altar in Saint Peter's. Her husband and her +eldest son had accompanied her, and having placed her in a position from +which they judged she could easily escape at the end of the ceremony, +they remained standing in the narrow, winding passage between improvised +barriers which led from the tribune to the door of the sacristy, and +which had been so arranged as to prevent confusion. Here they waited, +greeting their acquaintances when they could recognise them in the dim +twilight of the church, and watching the ever-increasing crowd that +surged slowly backward and forward outside the barrier. The old prince +was entitled by an hereditary office to a place in the great procession +of the day, and was not now with them. + +Orsino felt as though the whole world were assembled about him within +the huge cathedral, as though its heart were beating audibly and its +muffled breathing rising and falling in his hearing. The unceasing sound +that went up from the compact mass of living beings was soft in quality, +but enormous in volume and sustained in tone, a great whispering which, +might have been heard a mile away. One hears in mammoth musical +festivals the extraordinary effect of four or five thousand voices +singing very softly; it is not to be compared to the unceasing whisper +of fifty thousand men. + +The young fellow was conscious of a strange, irregular thrill of +enthusiasm which ran through him from time to time and startled his +imagination into life. It was only the instinct of a strong vitality +unconsciously longing to be the central point of the vitalities around +it. But he could not understand that. It seemed to him like a great +opportunity brought "within reach but slipping by untaken, not to return +again. He felt a strange, almost uncontrollable longing to spring upon +one of the tribunes, to raise his voice, to speak to the great +multitude, to fire all those men to break out and carry everything +before them. He laughed audibly at himself. Sant' Ilario looked at his +son with some curiosity. + +"What amuses you?" he asked. + +"A dream," answered Orsino, still smiling. "Who knows?" he exclaimed +after a pause. "What would happen, if at the right moment the right man +could stir such a crowd as this?" + +"Strange things," replied Sant' Ilario gravely. "A crowd is a terrible +weapon." + +"Then my dream was not so foolish after all. One might make history +to-day." + +Sant' Ilario made a gesture expressive of indifference. + +"What is history?" he asked. "A comedy in which the actors have no +written parts, but improvise their speeches and actions as best they +can. That is the reason why history is so dull and so full of mistakes." + +"And of surprises," suggested Orsino. + +"The surprises in history are always disagreeable, my boy," answered +Sant' Ilario. + +Orsino felt the coldness in the answer and felt even more his father's +readiness to damp any expression of enthusiasm. Of late he had +encountered this chilling indifference at almost every turn, whenever he +gave vent to his admiration for any sort of activity. + +It was not that Giovanni Saracinesca had any intention of repressing his +son's energetic instincts, and he assuredly had no idea of the effect +his words often produced. He sometimes wondered at the sudden silence +which came over the young man after such conversations, but he did not +understand it and on the whole paid little attention to it. He +remembered that he himself had been different, and had been wont to +argue hotly and not unfrequently to quarrel with his father about +trifles. He himself had been headstrong, passionate, often intractable +in his early youth, and his father had been no better at sixty and was +little improved in that respect even at his present great age. But +Orsino did not argue. He suggested, and if any one disagreed with him he +became silent. He seemed to possess energy in action, and a number of +rather fantastic aspirations, but in conversation he was easily silenced +and in outward manner he would have seemed too yielding if he had not +often seemed too cold. + +Giovanni did not see that Orsino was most like his mother in character, +while the contact with a new generation had given him something +unfamiliar to the old, an affectation at first, but one which habit was +amalgamating with the real nature beneath. + +No doubt, it was wise and right to discourage ideas which would tend in +any way to revolution. Giovanni had seen revolutions and had been the +loser by them. It was not wise and was certainly not necessary to throw +cold water on the young fellow's harmless aspirations. But Giovanni had +lived for many years in his own way, rich, respected and supremely +happy, and he believed that his way was good enough for Orsino. He had, +in his youth, tried most things for himself, and had found them failures +so far as happiness was concerned. Orsino might make the series of +experiments in his turn if he pleased, but there was no adequate reason +for such an expenditure of energy. The sooner the boy loved some girl +who would make him a good wife, and the sooner he married her, the +sooner he would find that calm, satisfactory existence which had not +finally come to Giovanni until after thirty years of age. + +As for the question of fortune, it was true that there were four sons, +but there was Giovanni's mother's fortune, there was Corona's fortune, +and there was the great Saracinesca estate behind both. They were all so +extremely rich that the deluge must be very distant. + +Orsino understood none of these things. He only realised that his father +had the faculty and apparently the intention of freezing any originality +he chanced to show, and he inwardly resented the coldness, quietly, if +foolishly, resolving to astonish those who misunderstood him by seizing +the first opportunity of doing something out of the common way. For some +time he stood in silence watching the people who came by and glancing +from time to time at the dense crowd outside the barrier. He was +suddenly aware that his father was observing intently a lady who +advanced along the open, way. + +"There is Tullia Del Ferice!" exclaimed Sant' Ilario in surprise. + +"I do not know her, except by sight," observed Orsino indifferently. + +The countess was very imposing in her black veil and draperies. Her red +face seemed to lose its colour in the dim church and she affected a slow +and stately manner more becoming to her weight than was her natural +restless vivacity. She had got what she desired and she swept proudly +along to take her old place among the ladies of Rome. No one knew whose +card she had delivered up at the entrance to the sacristy, and she +enjoyed the triumph of showing that the wife of the revolutionary, the +banker, the member of parliament, had not lost caste after all. + +She looked Giovanni full in the face with her disagreeable blue eyes as +she came up, apparently not meaning to recognise him. Then, just as she +passed him, she deigned to make a very slight inclination of the head, +just enough to compel Sant' Ilario to return the salutation. It was very +well done. Orsino did not know all the details of the past events, but +he knew that his father had once wounded Del Ferice in a duel and he +looked at Del Fence's wife with some curiosity. He had seldom had an +opportunity of being so near to her. + +"It was certainly not about her that they fought," he reflected. "It +must have been about some other woman, if there was a woman in the +question at all." + +A moment later he was aware that a pair of tawny eyes was fixed on him. +Maria Consuelo was following Donna Tullia at a distance of a dozen +yards. Orsino came forward and his new acquaintance held out her hand. +They had not met since they had first seen each other. + +"It was so kind of you," she said. + +"What, Madame?" + +"To suggest this to Gouache. I should have had no ticket--where shall I +sit?" + +Orsino did not understand, for though he had mentioned the subject, +Gouache had not told him what he meant to do. But there was no time to +be lost in conversation. Orsino led her to the nearest opening in the +tribune and pointed to a seat. + +"I called," he said quickly. "You did not receive--" + +"Come again, I will be at home," she answered in a low voice, as she +passed him. + +She sat down in a vacant place beside Donna Tullia, and Orsino noticed +that his mother was just behind them both. Corona had been watching him +unconsciously, as she often did, and was somewhat surprised to see him +conducting a lady whom she did not know. A glance told her that the lady +was a foreigner; as such, if she were present at all, she should have +been in the diplomatic tribune. There was nothing to think of, and +Corona tried to solve the small social problem that presented itself. +Orsino strolled back to his father's side. + +"Who is she?" inquired Sant' Ilario with some curiosity. + +"The lady who wanted the tiger's skin--Aranjuez--I told you of her." + +"The portrait you gave me was not flattering. She is handsome, if not +beautiful." + +"Did I say she was not?" asked Orsino with a visible irritation most +unlike him. + +"I thought so. You said she had yellow eyes, red hair and a squint." +Sant' Ilario laughed. + +"Perhaps I did. But the effect seems to be harmonious." + +"Decidedly so. You might have introduced me." + +To this Orsino said nothing, but relapsed into a moody silence. He would +have liked nothing better than to bring about the acquaintance, but he +had only met Maria Consuelo once, though that interview had been a long +one, and he remembered her rather short answer to his offer of service +in the way of making acquaintances. + +Maria Consuelo on her part was quite unconscious that she was sitting in +front of the Princess Sant' Ilario, but she had seen the lady by her +side bow to Orsino's companion in passing, and she guessed from a +certain resemblance that the dark, middle-aged man might be young +Saracinesca's father. Donna Tullia had seen Corona well enough, but as +they had not spoken for nearly twenty years she decided not to risk a +nod where she could not command an acknowledgment of it. So she +pretended to be quite unconscious of her old enemy's presence. + +Donna Tullia, however, had noticed as she turned her head in sitting +down that Orsino was piloting a strange lady to the tribune, and when +the latter sat down beside her, she determined to make her acquaintance, +no matter upon what pretext. The time was approaching at which the +procession was to make its appearance, and Donna. Tullia looked about +for something upon which to open the conversation, glancing from time to +time at her neighbour. It was easy to see that the place and the +surroundings were equally unfamiliar to the newcomer, who looked with +evident interest at the twisted columns of the high altar, at the vast +mosaics in the dome, at the red damask hangings of the nave, at the +Swiss guards, the chamberlains in court dress and at all the +mediaeval-looking, motley figures that moved about within the space kept +open for the coming function. + +"It is a wonderful sight," said Donna Tullia in Trench, very softly, +and almost as though speaking to herself. + +"Wonderful indeed," answered Maria Consuelo, "especially to a stranger." + +"Madame is a stranger, then," observed Donna Tullia with an agreeable +smile. + +She looked into her neighbour's face and for the first time realised +that she was a striking person. + +"Quite," replied the latter, briefly, and as though not wishing to press +the conversation. + +"I fancied so," said Donna Tullia, "though on seeing you in these seats, +among us Romans--" + +"I received a card through the kindness of a friend." + +There was a short pause, during which Donna Tullia concluded that the +friend must have been Orsino. But the next remark threw her off the +scent. + +"It was his wife's ticket, I believe," said Maria Consuelo. "She could +not come. I am here on false pretences." She smiled carelessly. + +Donna Tullia lost herself in speculation, but failed to solve the +problem. + +"You have chosen a most favourable moment for your first visit to Rome," +she remarked at last. + +"Yes. I am always fortunate. I believe I have seen everything worth +seeing ever since I was a little girl." + +"She is somebody," thought Donna Tullia. "Probably the wife of a +diplomatist, though. Those people see everything, and talk of nothing +but what they have seen." + +"This is historic," she said aloud. "You will have a chance of +contemplating the Romans in their glory. Colonna and Orsini marching +side by side, and old Saracinesca in all his magnificence. He is +eighty-two year old." + +"Saracinesca?" repeated Maria Consuelo, turning her tawny eyes upon her +neighbour. + +"Yes. The father of Sant' Ilario--grandfather of that young fellow who +showed you to your seat." + +"Don Orsino? Yes, I know him slightly." + +Corona, sitting immediately behind them heard her son's name. As the two +ladies turned towards each other in conversation she heard distinctly +what they said. Donna Tullia was of course aware of this. + +"Do you?" she asked. "His father is a most estimable man--just a little +too estimable, if you understand! As for the boy--" + +Donna Tullia moved, her broad shoulders expressively. It was a habit of +which even the irreproachable Del Ferice could not cure her. Corona's +face darkened. + +"You can hardly call him a boy," observed Maria Consuelo with a smile. + +"Ah well--I might have been his mother," Donna Tullia answered with a +contempt for the affectation of youth which she rarely showed. But +Corona began to understand that the conversation was meant for her ears, +and grew angry by degrees. Donna Tullia had indeed been near to marrying +Giovanni, and in that sense, too, she might have been Orsino's mother. + +"I fancied you spoke rather disparagingly," said Maria Consuelo with a +certain degree of interest. + +"I? No indeed. On the contrary, Don Orsino is a very fine fellow--but +thrown away, positively thrown away in his present surroundings. Of what +use is all this English education--but you are a stranger, Madame, you +cannot understand our Roman point of view." + +"If you could explain it to me, I might, perhaps," suggested the other. + +"Ah yes--if I could explain it! But I am far too ignorant myself--no, +ignorant is not the word--too prejudiced, perhaps, to make you see it +quite as it is. Perhaps I am a little too liberal, and the Saracinesca +are certainly far too conservative. They mistake education for progress. +Poor Don Orsino, I am sorry for him." + +Donna Tullia found no other escape from the difficulty into which she +had thrown herself. + +"I did not know that he was to be pitied," said Maria Consuelo. + +"Oh, not he in particular, perhaps," answered the stout countess, +growing more and more vague. "They are all to be pitied, you know. What +is to become of young men brought up in that way? The club, the turf, +the card-table--to drink, to gamble, to bet, it is not an existence!" + +"Do you mean that Don Orsino leads that sort of life?" inquired Maria +Consuelo indifferently. + +Again Donna Tullia's heavy shoulders moved contemptuously. + +"What else is there for him to do?" + +"And his father? Did he not do likewise in his youth?" + +"His father? Ah, he was different--before he married--full of life, +activity, originality!" + +"And since his marriage?" + +"He has become estimable, most estimable." The smile with which Donna +Tullia accompanied the statement was intended to be fine, but was only +spiteful. Maria Consuelo, who saw everything with her sleepy glance, +noticed the fact. + +Corona was disgusted, and leaned back in her seat, as far as possible, +in order not to hear more. She could not help wondering who the strange +lady might be to whom Donna Tullia was so freely expressing her opinions +concerning the Saracinesca, and she determined to ask Orsino after the +ceremony. But she wished to hear as little more as she could. + +"When a married man becomes what you call estimable," said Donna +Tullia's companion, "he either adores his wife or hates her." + +"What a charming idea!" laughed the countess. It Was tolerably evident +that the remark was beyond her. + +"She is stupid," thought Maria Consuelo. "I fancied so from the first. I +will ask Don Orsino about her. He will say something amusing. It will be +a subject of conversation at all events, in place of that endless tiger +I invented the other day. I wonder whether this woman expects me to +tell her who I am? That will amount to an acquaintance. She is certainly +somebody, or she would not be here. On the other hand, she seems to +dislike the only man I know besides Gouache. That may lead to +complications. Let us talk of Gouache first, and be guided by +circumstances." + +"Do you know Monsieur Gouache?" she inquired, abruptly. + +"The painter? Yes--I have known him a long time. Is he perhaps painting +your portrait?" + +"Exactly. It is really for that purpose that I am in Rome. What a +charming man!" + +"Do you think so? Perhaps he is. He painted me some time ago. I was not +very well satisfied. But he has talent." + +Donna Tullia had never forgiven the artist for not putting enough soul +into the picture he had painted of her when she was a very young widow. + +"He has a great reputation," said Maria Consuelo, "and I think he will +succeed very well with me. Besides, I am grateful to him. He and his +painting have been a pleasant episode in my short stay here." + +"Really, I should hardly have thought you could find it worth your while +to come all the way to Rome to be painted by Gouache," observed Donna +Tullia. "But of course, as I say, he has talent." + +"This woman is rich," she said to herself. "The wives of diplomatists do +not allow themselves such caprices, as a rule. I wonder who she is?" + +"Great talent," assented Maria Consuelo. "And great charm, I think." + +"Ah well--of course--I daresay. We Romans cannot help thinking that for +an artist he is a little too much occupied in being a gentleman--and for +a gentleman he is quite too much an artist." + +The remark was not original with Donna Tullia, but had been reported to +her as Spicca's, and Spicca had really said something similar about +somebody else. + +"I had not got that impression," said Maria Consuelo, quietly. + +"She hates him, too," she thought. "She seems to hate everybody. That +either means that she knows everybody, or is not received in society." + +"But of course you know him better than I do," she added aloud, after a +little pause. + +At that moment a strain of music broke out above the great, soft, +muffled whispering that filled the basilica. Some thirty chosen voices +of the choir of Saint Peter's had begun the hymn "Tu es Petrus," as the +procession began to defile from the south aisle into the nave, close by +the great door, to traverse the whole distance thence to the high altar. +The Pope's own choir, consisting solely of the singers of the Sixtine +Chapel, waited silently behind the lattice under the statue of Saint +Veronica. + +The song rang out louder and louder, simple and grand. Those who have +heard Italian singers at their best know that thirty young Roman throats +can emit a volume of sound equal to that which a hundred men of any +other nation could produce. The stillness around them increased, too, as +the procession lengthened. The great, dark crowd stood shoulder to +shoulder, breathless with expectation, each man and woman feeling for a +few short moments that thrill of mysterious anxiety and impatience which +Orsino had felt. No one who was there can ever forget what followed. +More than forty cardinals filed out in front from the Chapel of the +Pieta. Then the hereditary assistants of the Holy See, the heads of the +Colonna and the Orsini houses, entered the nave, side by side for the +first time, I believe, in history. Immediately after them, high above +all the procession and the crowd, appeared the great chair of state, the +huge white feathered fans moving slowly on each side, and upon the +throne, the central figure of that vast display, sat the Pope, Leo the +Thirteenth. + +Then, without warning and without hesitation, a shout went up such as +has never been heard before in that dim cathedral, nor will, perhaps, be +heard again. + +"_Viva il Papa-Re!_ Long life to the Pope-King!" + +At the same instant, as though at a preconcerted signal--utterly +impossible in such a throng--in the twinkling of an eye, the dark crowd +was as white as snow. In every hand a white handkerchief was raised, +fluttering and waving above every head. + +And the shout once taken up, drowned the strong voices of the singers as +long-drawn thunder drowns the pattering of the raindrops and the sighing +of the wind. + +The wonderful face, that seemed to be carved out of transparent +alabaster, smiled and slowly turned from side to side as it passed by. +The thin, fragile hand moved unceasingly, blessing the people. + +Orsino Saracinesca saw and heard, and his young face turned pale while +his lips set themselves. By his side, a head shorter than he, stood his +father, lost in thought as he gazed at the mighty spectacle of what had +been, and of what might still have been, but for one day of history's +surprises. + +Orsino said nothing, but he glanced at Sant' Ilario's face as though to +remind his father of what he had said half an hour earlier; and the +elder man knew that there had been truth in the boy's words. There were +soldiers in the church, and they were not Italian soldiers--some +thousands of them in all, perhaps. They were armed, and there were at +the very least computation thirty thousand strong, grown men in the +crowd. And the crowd was on fire. Had there been a hundred, nay a score, +of desperate, devoted leaders there, who knows what bloody work might +not have been done in the city before the sun went down? Who knows what +new surprises history might have found for her play? The thought must +have crossed many minds at that moment. But no one stirred; the +religious ceremony remained a religious ceremony and nothing more; holy +peace reigned within the walls, and the hour of peril glided away +undisturbed to take its place among memories of good. + +"The world is worn out!" thought Orsino. "The days of great deeds are +over. Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die--they are right in +teaching me their philosophy." + +A gloomy, sullen melancholy took hold of the boy's young nature, a +passing mood, perhaps, but one which left its mark upon him. For he was +at that age when a very little thing will turn the balance of a +character, when an older man's thoughtless words may direct half a +lifetime in a good or evil channel, being recalled and repeated for a +score of years. Who is it that does not remember that day when an +impatient "I will," or a defiant "I will not," turned the whole current +of his existence in the one direction or the other, towards good or +evil, or towards success or failure? Who, that has fought his way +against odds into the front rank, has forgotten the woman's look that +gave him courage, or the man's sneer that braced nerve and muscle to +strike the first of many hard blows? + +The depression which fell upon Orsino was lasting, for that morning at +least. The stupendous pageant went on before him, the choirs sang, the +sweet boys' voices answered back, like an angel's song, out of the lofty +dome, the incense rose in columns through the streaming sunlight as the +high mass proceeded. Again the Pope was raised upon the chair and borne +out into the nave, whence in the solemn silence the thin, clear, aged +voice intoned the benediction three times, slowly rising and falling, +pausing and beginning again. Once more the enormous shout broke out, +louder and deeper than ever, as the procession moved away. Then all was +over. + +Orsino saw and heard, but the first impression was gone, and the thrill +did not come back. + +"It was a fine sight," he said to his father, as the shout died away. + +"A fine sight? Have you no stronger expression than that?" + +"No," answered Orsino, "I have not." + +The ladies were already coming out of the tribunes, and Orsino saw his +father give his arm to Corona to lead her through the crowd. Naturally +enough, Maria Consuelo and Donna Tullia came out together very soon +after her. Orsino offered to pilot the former through the confusion, and +she accepted gratefully. Donna Tullia walked beside them. + +"You do not know me, Don Orsino," said she with a gracious smile. + +"I beg your pardon--you are the Countess Del Ferice--I have not been +back from England long, and have not had an opportunity of being +presented." + +Whatever might be Orsino's weaknesses, shyness was certainly not one of +them, and as he made the civil answer he calmly looked at Donna Tullia +as though to inquire what in the world she wished to accomplish in +making his acquaintance. He had been so situated during the ceremony as +not to see that the two ladies had fallen into conversation. + +"Will you introduce me?" said Maria Consuelo. "We have been talking +together." + +She spoke in a low voice, but the words could hardly have escaped Donna +Tullia. Orsino was very much surprised and not by any means pleased, for +he saw that the elder woman had forced the introduction by a rather +vulgar trick. Nevertheless, he could not escape. + +"Since you have been good enough to recognise me," he said rather +stiffly to Donna Tullia, "permit me to make you acquainted with Madame +d'Aranjuez d'Aragona." + +Both ladies nodded and smiled the smile of the newly introduced. Donna +Tullia at once began to wonder how it was that a person with such a name +should have but a plain "Madame" to put before it. But her curiosity was +not satisfied on this occasion. + +"How absurd society is!" she exclaimed. "Madame d'Aranjuez and I have +been talking all the morning, quite like old friends--and now we need an +introduction!" + +Maria Consuelo glanced at Orsino as though, expecting him to make some +remark. But he said nothing. + +"What should we do without conventions!" she said, for the sake of +saying something. + +By this time they were threading the endless passages of the sacristy +building, on their way to the Piazza Santa, Marta. Sant' Ilario and +Corona were not far in front of them. At a turn in the corridor Corona +looked back. + +"There is Orsino talking to Tullia Del Ferice!" she exclaimed in great +surprise. "And he has given his arm to that other lady who was next to +her in the tribune." + +"What does it matter?" asked Sant' Ilario indifferently. "By the bye, +the other lady is that Madame d'Aranjuez he talks about." + +"Is she any relation of your mother's family, Giovanni?" + +"Not that I am aware of. She may have married some younger son of whom I +never heard." + +"You do not seem to care whom Orsino knows," said Corona rather +reproachfully. + +"Orsino is grown up, dear. You must not forget that." + +"Yes--I suppose he is," Corona answered with a little sigh. "But surely +you will not encourage him to cultivate the Del Ferice!" + +"I fancy it would take a deal of encouragement to drive him to that," +said Sant' Ilario with a laugh. "He has better taste." + +There was some confusion outside. People were waiting for their +carriages, and as most of them knew each other intimately every one was +talking at once. Donna Tullia nodded here and there, but Maria Consuelo +noticed that her salutations were coldly returned. Orsino and his two +companions stood a little aloof from the crowd. Just then the +Saracinesca carriage drove up. + +"Who is that magnificent woman?" asked Maria Consuelo, as Corona got in. + +"My mother," said Orsino. "My father is getting in now." + +"There comes my carriage! Please help me." + +A modest hired brougham made its appearance. Orsino hoped that Madame +d'Aranjuez would offer him a seat. But he was mistaken. + +"I am afraid mine is miles away," said Donna Tullia. "Good-bye, I shall +be so glad if you will come and see me." She held out her hand. + +"May I not take you home?" asked Maria Consuelo. "There is just room--it +will be better than waiting here." + +Donna Tullia hesitated a moment, and then accepted, to Orsino's great +annoyance. He helped the two ladies to get in, and shut the door. + +"Come soon," said Maria Consuelo, giving him her hand out of the window. + +He was inclined to be angry, but the look that accompanied the +invitation did its work satisfactorily. + +"He is very young," thought Maria Consuelo, as she drove away. + +"She can be very amusing. It is worth while," said Orsino to himself as +he passed in front of the next carriage, and walked out upon the small +square. + +He had not gone far, hindered as he was at every step, when some one +touched his arm. It was Spicca, looking more cadaverous and exhausted +than usual. + +"Are you going home in a cab?" he asked. "Then let us go together." + +They got out of the square, scarcely knowing how they had accomplished +the feat. Spicca seemed nervous as well as tired, and he leaned on +Orsino's arm. + +"There was a chance lost this morning," said the latter when they were +under the colonnade. He felt sure of a bitter answer from the keen old +man. + +"Why did you not seize it then?" asked Spicca. "Do you expect old men +like me to stand up and yell for a republic, or a restoration, or a +monarchy, or whichever of the other seven plagues of Egypt you desire? I +have not voice enough left to call a cab, much less to howl down a +kingdom." + +"I wonder what would have happened, if I, or some one else, had tried." + +"You would have spent the night in prison with a few kindred spirits. +After all, that would have been better than making love to old Donna +Tullia and her young friend." + +Orsino laughed. + +"You have good eyes," he said. + +"So have you, Orsino. Use them. You will see something odd if you look +where you were looking this morning. Do you know what sort of a place +this world is?" + +"It is a dull place. I have found that out already." + +"You are mistaken. It is hell. Do you mind calling that cab?" + +Orsino stared a moment at his companion, and then hailed the passing +conveyance. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + + +Orsino had shown less anxiety to see Madame d'Aranjuez than might +perhaps have been expected. In the ten days which had elapsed between +the sitting at Gouache's studio and the first of January he had only +once made an attempt to find her at home, and that attempt had failed. +He had not even seen her passing in the street, and he had not been +conscious of any uncontrollable desire to catch a glimpse of her at any +price. + +But he had not forgotten her existence as he would certainly have +forgotten that of a wholly indifferent person in the same time. On the +contrary, he had thought of her frequently and had indulged in many +speculations concerning her, wondering among other matters why he did +not take more trouble to see her since she occupied his thoughts so +much. He did not know that he was in reality hesitating, for he would +not have acknowledged to himself that he could be in danger of falling +seriously in love. He was too young to admit such a possibility, and the +character which he admired and meant to assume was altogether too cold +and superior to such weaknesses. To do him justice, he was really not of +the sort to fall in love at first sight. Persons capable of a +self-imposed dualism rarely are, for the second nature they build up on +the foundation of their own is never wholly artificial. The disposition +to certain modes of thought and habits of bearing is really present, as +is sufficiently proved by their admiration of both. Very shy persons, +for instance, invariably admire very self-possessed ones, and in trying +to imitate them occasionally exhibit a cold-blooded arrogance which is +amazing. Timothy Titmouse secretly looks up to Don Juan as his ideal, +and after half a lifetime of failure outdoes his model, to the horror of +his friends. Dionysus masks as Hercules, and the fox is sometimes not +unsuccessful in his saint's disguise. Those who have been intimate with +a great actor know that the characters he plays best are not all +assumed; there is a little of each in his own nature. There is a touch +of the real Othello in Salvini--there is perhaps a strain of the +melancholy Scandinavian in English Irving. + +To be short, Orsino Saracinesca was too enthusiastic to be wholly cold, +and too thoughtful to be thoroughly enthusiastic. He saw things +differently according to his moods, and being dissatisfied, he tried to +make one mood prevail constantly over the other. In a mean nature the +double view often makes an untruthful individual; in one possessing +honourable instincts it frequently leads to unhappiness. Affectation +then becomes aspiration and the man's failure to impose on others is +forgotten in his misery at failing to impose upon himself. + +The few words Orsino had exchanged with Maria Consuelo on the morning of +the great ceremony recalled vividly the pleasant hour he had spent with +her ten days earlier, and he determined to see her as soon as possible. +He was out of conceit with himself and consequently with all those who +knew him, and he looked forward with pleasure to the conversation of an +attractive woman who could have no preconceived opinion of him, and who +could take him at his own estimate. He was curious, too, to find out +something more definite in regard to her. She was mysterious, and the +mystery pleased him. She had admitted that her deceased husband had +spoken of being connected with the Saracinesca, but he could not +discover where the relationship lay. Spicca's very odd remark, too, +seemed to point to her, in some way which Orsino could not understand, +and he remembered her having said that she had heard of Spicca. Her +husband had doubtless been an Italian of Spanish descent, but she had +given no clue to her own nationality, and she did not look Spanish, in +spite of her name, Maria Consuelo. As no one in Rome knew her it was +impossible to get any information whatever. It was all very interesting. + +Accordingly, late on the afternoon of the second of January, Orsino +called and was led to the door of a small sitting-room on the second +floor of the hotel. The servant shut the door behind him and Orsino +found himself alone. A lamp with a pretty shade was burning on the table +and beside it an ugly blue glass vase contained a few flowers, common +roses, but fresh and fragrant. Two or three new books in yellow paper +covers lay scattered upon the hideous velvet table cloth, and beside one +of them Orsino noticed a magnificent paper cutter of chiselled silver, +bearing a large monogram done in brilliants and rubies. The thing +contrasted oddly with its surroundings and attracted the light. An easy +chair was drawn up to the table, an abominable object covered with +perfectly new yellow satin. A small red morocco cushion, of the kind +used in travelling, was balanced on the back, and there was a depression +in it, as though some one's head had lately rested there. + +Orsino noticed all these details as he stood waiting for Madame +d'Aranjuez to appear, and they were not without interest to him, for +each one told a story, and the stories were contradictory. The room was +not encumbered with those numberless objects which most women scatter +about them within an hour after reaching a hotel. Yet Madame d'Aranjuez +must have been at least a month in Rome. The room smelt neither of +perfume nor of cigarettes, but of the roses, which was better, and a +little of the lamp, which was much worse. The lady's only possessions +seemed to be three books, a travelling cushion and a somewhat too +gorgeous paper cutter; and these few objects were perfectly new. He +glanced at the books; they were of the latest, and only one had been +cut. The cushion might have been bought that morning. Not a breath had +tarnished the polished blade of the silver knife. + +A door opened softly and Orsino drew himself up as some one pushed in +the heavy, vivid curtains. But it was not Madame d'Aranjuez. A small +dark woman of middle age, with downcast eyes and exceedingly black hair, +came forward a step. + +"The signora will come presently," she said in Italian, in a very low +voice, as though she were almost afraid of hearing herself speak. + +She was gone in a moment, as noiselessly as she had come. This was +evidently the silent maid of whom Gouache had spoken. The few words she +had spoken had revealed to Orsino the fact that she was an Italian from +the north, for she had the unmistakable accent of the Piedmontese, whose +own language is comprehensible only by themselves. + +Orsino prepared to wait some time, supposing that the message could +hardly have been sent without an object. But another minute had not +elapsed before Maria Consuelo herself appeared. In the soft lamplight +her clear white skin looked very pale and her auburn hair almost red. +She wore one of those nondescript garments which we have elected to +call tea-gowns, and Orsino, who had learned to criticise dress as he had +learned Latin grammar, saw that the tea-gown was good and the lace real. +The colours produced no impression upon him whatever. As a matter of +fact they were dark, being combined in various shades of olive. + +Maria Consuelo looked at her visitor and held out her hand, but said +nothing. She did not even smile, and Orsino began to fancy that he had +chosen an unfortunate moment for his visit. + +"It was very good of you to let me come," he said, waiting for her to +sit down. + +Still she said nothing. She placed the red morocco cushion carefully in +the particular position which would be most comfortable, turned the +shade of the lamp a little, which, of course, produced no change +whatever in the direction of the light, pushed one of the books half +across the table and at last sat down in the easy chair. Orsino sat down +near her, holding his hat upon his knee. He wondered whether she had +heard him speak, or whether she might not be one of those people who are +painfully shy when there is no third person present. + +"I think it was very good of you to come," she said at last, when she +was comfortably settled. + +"I wish goodness were always so easy," answered Orsino with alacrity. + +"Is it your ambition to be good?" asked Maria Consuelo with a smile. + +"It should be. But it is not a career." + +"Then you do not believe in Saints?" + +"Not until they are canonised and made articles of belief--unless you +are one, Madame." + +"I have thought of trying it," answered Maria Consuelo, calmly. +"Saintship is a career, even in society, whatever you may say to the +contrary. It has attractions, after all." + +"Not equal to those of the other side. Every one admits that. The +majority is evidently in favour of sin, and if we are to believe in +modern institutions, we must believe that majorities are right." + +"Then the hero is always wrong, for he is the enthusiastic individual +who is always for facing odds, and if no one disagrees with him he is +very unhappy. Yet there are heroes--" + +"Where?" asked Orsino. "The heroes people talk of ride bronze horses on +inaccessible pedestals. When the bell rings for a revolution they are +all knocked down and new ones are set up in their places--also executed +by the best artists--and the old ones are cast into cannon to knock to +pieces the ideas they invented. That is called history." + +"You take a cheerful and encouraging view of the world's history, Don +Orsino." + +"The world is made for us, and we must accept it. But we may criticise +it. There is nothing to the contrary in the contract." + +"In the social contract? Are you going to talk to me about +Jean-Jacques?" + +"Have you read him, Madame?" + +"'No woman who respects herself--'" began Maria Consuelo, quoting the +famous preface. + +"I see that you have," said Orsino, with a laugh. "I have not." + +"Nor I." + +To Orsino's surprise, Madame d'Aranjuez blushed. He could not have told +why he was pleased, nor why her change of colour seemed so unexpected. + +"Speaking of history," he said, after a very slight pause, "why did you +thank me yesterday for having got you a card?" + +"Did you not speak to Gouache about it?" + +"I said something--I forget what. Did he manage it?" + +"Of course. I had his wife's place. She could not go. Do you dislike +being thanked for your good offices? Are you so modest as that?" + +"Not in the least, but I hate misunderstandings, though I will get all +the credit I can for what I have not done, like other people. When I saw +that you knew the Del Ferice, I thought that perhaps she had been +exerting herself." + +"Why do you hate her so?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +"I do not hate her. She does not exist--that is all." + +"Why does she not exist, as you call it? She is a very good-natured +woman. Tell me the truth. Everybody hates her--I saw that by the way +they bowed to her while we were waiting--why? There must be a reason. Is +she a--an incorrect person?" + +Orsino laughed. + +"No. That is the point at which existence is more likely to begin than +to end." + +"How cynical you are! I do not like that. Tell me about Madame Del +Ferice." + +"Very well. To begin with, she is a relation of mine." + +"Seriously?" + +"Seriously. Of course that gives me a right to handle the whole +dictionary of abuse against her." + +"Of course. Are you going to do that?" + +"No. You would call me cynical. I do not like you to call me by bad +names, Madame." + +"I had an idea that men liked it," observed Maria Consuelo gravely. + +"One does not like to hear disagreeable truths." + +"Then it is the truth? Go on. You have forgotten what we were talking +about." + +"Not at all Donna Tullia, my second, third or fourth cousin, was married +once upon a time to a certain Mayer." + +"And left him. How interesting!" + +"No, Madame. He left her--very suddenly, I believe--for another world. +Better or worse? Who can say? Considering his past life, worse, I +suppose; but considering that he was not obliged to take Donna Tullia +with him, decidedly better." + +"You certainly hate her. Then she married Del Ferice." + +"Then she married Del Ferice--before I was born. She is fabulously old. +Mayer left her very rich, and without conditions. Del Ferice was an +impossible person. My father nearly killed him in a duel once--also +before I was born. I never knew what it was about. Del Ferice was a spy, +in the old days when spies got a living in a Rome--" + +"Ah! I see it all now!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo. "Del Ferice is white, +and you are black. Of course you hate each other. You need not tell me +any more." + +"How you take that for granted!" + +"Is it not perfectly clear? Do not talk to me of like and dislike when +your dreadful parties have anything to do with either! Besides, if I had +any sympathy with either side it would be for the whites. But the whole +thing is absurd, complicated, mediaeval, feudal--anything you like +except sensible. Your intolerance is--intolerable." + +"True tolerance should tolerate even intolerance," observed Orsino +smartly. + +"That sounds like one of the puzzles of pronunciation like 'in un piatto +poco cupo poco pepe pisto cape,'" laughed Maria Consuelo. "Tolerably +tolerable tolerance tolerates tolerable tolerance intolerably--" + +"You speak Italian?" asked Orsino, surprised by her glib enunciation of +the difficult sentence she had quoted. "Why are we talking a foreign +language?" + +"I cannot really speak Italian. I have an Italian maid, who speaks +French. But she taught me that puzzle." + +"It is odd--your maid is a Piedmontese and you have a good accent." + +"Have I? I am very glad. But tell me, is it not absurd that you should +hate these people as you do--you cannot deny it--merely because they are +whites?" + +"Everything in life is absurd if you take the opposite point of view. +Lunatics find endless amusement in watching sane people." + +"And of course, you are the sane people," observed Maria Consuelo. + +"Of course." + +"What becomes of me? I suppose I do not exist? You would not be rude +enough to class me with the lunatics." + +"Certainly not. You will of course choose to be a black." + +"In order to be discontented, as you are?" + +"Discontented?" + +"Yes. Are you not utterly out of sympathy with your surroundings? Are +you not hampered at every step by a network of traditions which have no +meaning to your intelligence, but which are laid on you like a harness +upon a horse, and in which you are driven your daily little round of +tiresome amusement--or dissipation? Do you not hate the Corso as an +omnibus horse hates it? Do you not really hate the very faces of all +those people who effectually prevent you from using your own +intelligence, your own strength--your own heart? One sees it in your +face. You are too young to be tired of life. No, I am not going to call +you a boy, though I am older than you, Don Orsino. You will find people +enough in your own surroundings to call you a boy--because you are not +yet so utterly tamed and wearied as they are, and for no other reason. +You are a man. I do not know your age, but you do not talk as boys do. +You are a man--then be a man altogether, be independent--use your hands +for something better than throwing mud at other people's houses merely +because they are new!" + +Orsino looked at her in astonishment. This was certainly not the sort of +conversation he had anticipated when he had entered the room. + +"You are surprised because I speak like this," she said after a short +pause. "You are a Saracinesca and I am--a stranger, here to-day and gone +to-morrow, whom you will probably never see again. It is amusing, is it +not? Why do you not laugh?" + +Maria Consuelo smiled and as usual her strong red lips closed as soon +as she had finished speaking, a habit which lent the smile something +unusual, half-mysterious, and self-contained. + +"I see nothing to laugh at," answered Orsino. "Did the mythological +personage whose name I have forgotten laugh when the sphynx proposed the +riddle to him?" + +"That is the third time within the last few days that I have been +compared to a sphynx by you or Gouache. It lacks originality in the +end." + +"I was not thinking of being original. I was too much interested. Your +riddle is the problem of my life." + +"The resemblance ceases there. I cannot eat you up if you do not guess +the answer--or if you do not take my advice. I am not prepared to go so +far as that." + +"Was it advice? It sounded more like a question." + +"I would not ask one when I am sure of getting no answer. Besides, I do +not like being laughed at." + +"What has that to do with the matter? Why imagine anything so +impossible?" + +"After all--perhaps it is more foolish to say, 'I advise you to do so +and so,' than to ask, 'Why do you not do so and so?' Advice is always +disagreeable and the adviser is always more or less ridiculous. Advice +brings its own punishment." + +"Is that not cynical?" asked Orsino. + +"No. Why? What is the worst thing you can do to your social enemy? +Prevail upon him to give you his counsel, act upon it--it will of course +turn out badly--then say, "I feared this would happen, but as you +advised me I did not like--" and so on! That is simple and always +effectual. Try it." + +"Not for worlds!" + +"I did not mean with me," answered Maria Consuelo with a laugh. + +"No. I am afraid there are other reasons which will prevent me from +making a career for myself," said Orsino thoughtfully. + +Maria Consuelo saw by his face that the subject was a serious one with +him, as she had already guessed that it must be, and one which would +always interest him. She therefore let it drop, keeping it in reserve in +case the conversation flagged. + +"I am going to see Madame Del Ferice to-morrow," she observed, changing +the subject. + +"Do you think that is necessary?" + +"Since I wish it! I have not your reasons for avoiding her." + +"I offended you the other day, Madame, did I not? You remember--when I +offered my services in a social way." + +"No--you amused me," answered Maria Consuelo coolly, and watching to see +how he would take the rebuke. + +But, young as Orsino was, he was a match for her in self-possession. + +"I am very glad," he answered without a trace of annoyance. "I feared +you were displeased." + +Maria Consuelo smiled again, and her momentary coldness vanished. The +answer delighted her, and did more to interest her in Orsino than fifty +clever sayings could have done. She resolved to push the question a +little further. + +"I will be frank," she said. + +"It is always best," answered Orsino, beginning to suspect that +something very tortuous was coming. His disbelief in phrases of the +kind, though originally artificial, was becoming profound. + +"Yes, I will be quite frank," she repeated. "You do not wish me to know +the Del Ferice and their set, and you do wish me to know the people you +like." + +"Evidently." + +"Why should I not do as I please?" + +She was clearly trying to entrap him into a foolish answer, and he grew +more and more wary. + +"It would be very strange if you did not," answered Orsino without +hesitation. + +"Why, again?" + +"Because you are absolutely free to make your own choice." + +"And if my choice does not meet with your approval?" she asked. + +"What can I say, Madame? I and my friends will be the losers, not you." + +Orsino had kept his temper admirably, and he did not suffer a hasty word +to escape his lips nor a shadow of irritation to appear in his face. Yet +she had pressed him in a way which was little short of rude. She was +silent for a few seconds, during which Orsino watched her face as she +turned it slightly away from him and from the lamp. In reality he was +wondering why she was not more communicative about herself, and +speculating as to whether her silence in that quarter proceeded from the +consciousness of a perfectly assured position in the world, or from the +fact that she had something to conceal; and this idea led him to +congratulate himself upon not having been obliged to act immediately +upon his first proposal by bringing about an acquaintance between Madame +d'Aranjuez and his mother. This uncertainty lent a spice of interest to +the acquaintance. He knew enough of the world already to be sure that +Maria Consuelo was born and bred in that state of life to which it has +pleased Providence to call the social elect. But the peculiar people +sometimes do strange things and afterwards establish themselves in +foreign cities where their doings are not likely to be known for some +time. Not that Orsino cared what this particular stranger's past might +have been. But he knew that his mother would care very much indeed, if +Orsino wished her to know the mysterious lady, and would sift the matter +very thoroughly before asking her to the Palazzo Saracinesca. Donna +Tullia, on the other hand, had committed herself to the acquaintance on +her own responsibility, evidently taking it for granted that if Orsino +knew Madame d'Aranjuez, the latter must be socially irreproachable. It +amused Orsino to imagine the fat countess's rage if she turned out to +have made a mistake. + +"I shall be the loser too," said Maria Consuelo, in a different tone, +"if I make a bad choice. But I cannot draw back. I took her to her house +in my carriage. She seemed to take a fancy to me--" she laughed a +little. + +Orsino smiled as though to imply that the circumstance did not surprise +him. + +"And she said she would come to see me. As a stranger I could not do +less than insist upon making the first visit, and I named the day--or +rather she did. I am going to-morrow." + +"To-morrow? Tuesday is her day. You will meet all her friends." + +"Do you mean to say that people still have days in Rome?" Maria Consuelo +did not look pleased. + +"Some people do--very few. Most people prefer to be at home one evening +in the week." + +"What sort of people are Madame Del Ferice's friends?" + +"Excellent people." + +"Why are you so cautious?" + +"Because you are about to be one of them, Madame." + +"Am I? No, I will not begin another catechism! You are too clever--I +shall never get a direct answer from you." + +"Not in that way," answered Orsino with a frankness that made his +companion smile. + +"How then?" + +"I think you would know how," he replied gravely, and he fixed his young +black eyes on her with an expression that made her half close her own. + +"I should think you would make a good actor," she said softly. + +"Provided that I might be allowed to be sincere between the acts." + +"That sounds well. A little ambiguous perhaps. Your sincerity might or +might not take the same direction as the part you had been acting." + +"That would depend entirely upon yourself, Madame." + +This time Maria Consuelo opened her eyes instead of closing them. + +"You do not lack--what shall I say? A certain assurance--you do not +waste time!" + +She laughed merrily, and Orsino laughed with her. + +"We are between the acts now," he said. "The curtain goes up to-morrow, +and you join the enemy." + +"Come with me, then." + +"In your carriage? I shall be enchanted." + +"No. You know I do not mean that. Come with me to the enemy's camp. It +will be very amusing." + +Orsino shook his head. + +"I would rather die--if possible at your feet, Madame." + +"Are you afraid to call upon Madame Del Ferice?" + +"More than of death itself." + +"How can you say that?" + +"The conditions of the life to come are doubtful--there might be a +chance for me. There is no doubt at all as to what would happen if I +went to see Madame Del Ferice." + +"Is your father so severe with you?" asked Maria Consuelo with a little +scorn. + +"Alas, Madame, I am not sensitive to ridicule," answered Orsino, quite +unmoved. "I grant that there is something wanting in my character." + +Maria Consuelo had hoped to find a weak point, and had failed, though +indeed there were many in the young man's armour. She was a little +annoyed, both at her own lack of judgment and because it would have +amused her to see Orsino in an element so unfamiliar to him as that in +which Donna Tullia lived. + +"And there is nothing which would induce you to go there?" she asked. + +"At present--nothing," Orsino answered coldly. + +"At present--but in the future of all possible possibilities?" + +"I shall undoubtedly go there. It is only the unforeseen which +invariably happens." + +"I think so too." + +"Of course. I will illustrate the proverb by bidding you good evening," +said Orsino, laughing as he rose. "By this time the conviction must have +formed itself in your mind that I was never going. The unforeseen +happens. I go." + +Maria Consuelo would have been glad if he had stayed even longer, for he +amused her and interested her, and she did not look forward with +pleasure to the lonely evening she was to spend in the hotel. + +"I am generally at home at this hour," she said, giving him her hand. + +"Then, if you will allow me? Thanks. Good evening, Madame." + +Their eyes met for a moment, and then Orsino left the room. As he lit +his cigarette in the porch of the hotel, he said to himself that he had +not wasted his hour, and he was pleasantly conscious of tha inward and +spiritual satisfaction which every very young man feels when he is aware +of having appeared at his best in the society of a woman alone. Youth +without vanity is only premature old age after all. + +"She is certainly more than pretty," he said to himself, affecting to be +critical when he was indeed convinced. "Her mouth is fabulous, but it is +well shaped and the rest is perfect--no, the nose is insignificant, and +one of those yellow eyes wanders a little. These are not perfections. +But what does it matter? The whole is charming, whatever the parts may +be. I wish she would not go to that horrible fat woman's tea to-morrow." + +Such were the observations which Orsino thought fit to make to himself, +but which by no means represented all that he felt, for they took no +notice whatever of that extreme satisfaction at having talked well with +Maria Consuelo, which in reality dominated every other sensation just +then. He was well enough accustomed to consideration, though his only +taste of society had been enjoyed during the winter vacations of the +last two years. He was not the greatest match in the Roman matrimonial +market for nothing, and he was perfectly well aware of his advantages in +this respect. He possessed that keen, business-like appreciation of his +value as a marriageable man which seems to characterise the young +generation of to-day, and he was not mistaken in his estimate. It was +made sufficiently clear to him at every turn that he had but to ask in +order to receive. But he had not the slightest intention of marrying at +one and twenty as several of his old school-fellows were doing, and he +was sensible enough to foresee that his position as a desirable +son-in-law would soon cause him more annoyance than amusement. + +Madame d'Aranjuez was doubtless aware that she could not marry him if +she wished to do so. She was several years older than he--he admitted +the fact rather reluctantly--she was a widow, and she seemed to have no +particular social position. These were excellent reasons against +matrimony, but they were also equally excellent reasons for being +pleased with himself at having produced a favourable impression on her. + +He walked rapidly along the crowded street, glancing carelessly at the +people who passed and at the brilliantly lighted windows of the shops. +He passed the door of the club, where he was already becoming known for +rather reckless play, and he quite forgot that a number of men were +probably spending an hour at the tables before dinner, a fact which +would hardly have escaped his memory if he had not been more than +usually occupied with pleasant thoughts. He did not need the excitement +of baccarat nor the stimulus of brandy and soda, for his brain was +already both excited and stimulated, though he was not at once aware of +it. But it became clear to him when he suddenly found himself standing +before the steps of the Capitol in the gloomy square of the Ara Coeli, +wondering what in the world had brought him so far out of his way. + +"What a fool I am!" he exclaimed impatiently, as he turned back and +walked in the direction of his home. "And yet she told me that I would +make a good actor. They say that an actor should never be carried away +by his part." + +At dinner that evening he was alternately talkative and very silent. + +"Where have you been to-day, Orsino?" asked his father, looking at him +curiously. + +"I spent half an hour with Madame d'Aranjuez, and then went for a walk," +answered Orsino with sudden indifference. + +"What is she like?" asked Corona. + +"Clever--at least in Rome." There was an odd, nervous sharpness about +the answer. + +Old Saracinesca raised his keen eyes without lifting his head and looked +hard at his grandson. He was a little bent in his great old age. + +"The boy is in love!" he exclaimed abruptly, and a laugh that was still +deep and ringing followed the words. Orsino recovered his +self-possession and smiled carelessly. + +Corona was thoughtful during the remainder of the meal. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + + +The Princess Sant' Ilario's early life had been deeply stirred by the +great makers of human character, sorrow and happiness. She had suffered +profoundly, she had borne her trials with a rare courage, and her +reward, if one may call it so, had been very great. She had seen the +world and known it well, and the knowledge had not been forgotten in +the peaceful prosperity of later years. Gifted with a beauty not +equalled, perhaps, in those times, endowed with a strong and passionate +nature under a singularly cold and calm outward manner, she had been +saved from many dangers by the rarest of commonplace qualities, common +sense. She had never passed for an intellectual person, she had never +been very brilliant in conversation, she had even been thought +old-fashioned in her prejudices concerning the books she read. But her +judgment had rarely failed her at critical moments. Once only, she +remembered having committed a great mistake, of which the sudden and +unexpected consequences had almost wrecked her life. But in that case +she had suffered her heart to lead her, an innocent girl's good name had +been at stake, and she had rashly taken a responsibility too heavy for +love itself to bear. Those days were long past now; twenty years +separated Corona, the mother of four tall sons, from the Corona who had +risked all to save poor little Faustina Montevarchi. + +But even she knew that a state of such perpetual and unclouded happiness +could hardly last a lifetime, and she had forced herself, almost +laughing at the thought, to look forward to the day when Orsino must +cease to be a boy and must face the world of strong loves and hates +through which most men have to pass, and which all men must have known +in order to be men indeed. + +The people whose lives are full of the most romantic incidents, are not +generally, I think, people of romantic disposition. Romance, like power, +will come uncalled for, and those who seek it most, are often those who +find it least. And the reason is simple enough. The man of heart is not +perpetually burrowing in his surroundings for affections upon which his +heart may feed, any more than the very strong man is naturally impelled +to lift every weight he sees or to fight with every man he meets. The +persons whom others call romantic are rarely conscious of being so. They +are generally far too much occupied with the one great thought which +make their strongest, bravest and meanest actions seem perfectly +commonplace to themselves. Corona Del Carmine, who had heroically +sacrificed herself in her earliest girlhood to save her father from ruin +and who a few years later had risked a priceless happiness to shield a +foolish girl, had not in her whole life been conscious of a single +romantic instinct. Brave, devoted, but unimaginative by nature, she had +followed her heart's direction in most worldly matters. + +She was amazed to find that she was becoming romantic now, in her dreams +for Orsino's future. All sorts of ideas which she would have laughed at +in her own youth flitted through her brain from morning till night. Her +fancy built up a life for her eldest son, which she knew to be far from +the possibility of realisation, but which had for her a new and strange +attraction. + +She planned for him the most unimaginable happiness, of a kind which +would perhaps have hardly satisfied his more modern instincts. She saw a +maiden of indescribable beauty, brought up in unapproachable +perfections, guarded by the all but insuperable jealousy of an ideal +home. Orsino was to love this vision, and none other, from the first +meeting to the term of his natural life, and was to win her in the face +or difficulties such as would have made even Giovanni, the incomparable, +look grave. This radiant creature was also to love Orsino, as a matter +of course, with a love vastly more angelic than human, but not hastily +nor thoughtlessly, lest Orsino should get her too easily and not value +her as he ought. Then she saw the two betrothed, side by side on shady +lawns and moonlit terraces, in a perfectly beautiful intimacy such as +they would certainly never enjoy in the existing conditions of their own +society. But that mattered little. The wooing, the winning and the +marrying of the exquisite girl were to make up Orsino's life, and fifty +or sixty years of idyllic happiness were to be the reward of their +mutual devotion. Had she not spent twenty such years herself? Then why +should not all the rest be possible? + +The dreams came and went and she was too sensible not to laugh at them. +That was not the youth of Giovanni, her husband, nor of men who even +faintly resembled him in her estimation. Giovanni had wandered far, had +seen much, and had undoubtedly indulged more than one passing affection, +before he had been thirty years of age and had loved Corona. Giovanni +would laugh too, if she told him of her vision of two young and +beautiful married saints. And his laugh would be more sincere than her +own. Nevertheless, her dreams haunted her, as they have haunted many a +loving mother, ever since Althaea plucked from the flame the burning +brand that measured Meleager's life, and smothered the sparks upon it +and hid it away among her treasures. + +Such things seem foolish, no doubt, in the measure of fact, in the +glaring light of our day. The thought is none the less noble. The dream +of an untainted love, the vision of unspotted youth and pure maiden, the +glory of unbroken faith kept whole by man and wife in holy wedlock, the +pride of stainless name and stainless race--these things are not less +high because there is a sublimity in the strength of a great sin which +may lie the closer to our sympathy, as the sinning is the nearer to our +weakness. + +When old Saracinesca looked up from under his bushy brows and laughed +and said that his grandson was in love, he thought no more of what he +said than if he had remarked that Orsino's beard was growing or that +Giovanni's was turning grey. But Corona's pretty fancies received a +shock from which they never recovered again, and though she did her best +to call them back they lost all their reality from that hour. The plain +fact that at one and twenty years the boy is a man, though a very young +one, was made suddenly clear to her, and she was faced by another fact +still more destructive of her ideals, namely, that a man is not to be +kept from falling in love, when and where he is so inclined, by any +personal influence whatsoever. She knew that well enough, and the +supposition that his first young passion might be for Madame d'Aranjuez +was by no means comforting. Corona immediately felt an interest in that +lady which she had not felt before and which was not altogether +friendly. + +It seemed to her necessary in the first place to find out something +definite concerning Maria Consuelo, and this was no easy matter. She +communicated her wish to her husband when they were alone that evening. + +"I know nothing about her," answered Giovanni. "And I do not know any +one who does. After all it is of very little importance." + +"What if he falls seriously in love with this woman?" + +"We will send him round the world. At his age that will cure anything. +When he comes back Madame d'Aranjuez will have retired to the chaos of +the unknown out of which Orsino has evolved her." + +"She does not look the kind of woman to disappear at the right moment," +observed Corona doubtfully. + +Giovanni was at that moment supremely comfortable, both in mind and +body. It was late. The old prince had gone to his own quarters, the boys +were in bed, and Orsino was presumably at a party or at the club. Sant' +Ilario was enjoying the delight of spending an hour alone in his wife's +society. They were in Corona's old boudoir, a place full of associations +for them both. He did not want to be mentally disturbed. He said nothing +in answer to his wife's remark. She repeated it in a different form. + +"Women like her do not disappear when one does not want them," she said. + +"What makes you think so?" inquired Giovanni with a man's irritating +indolence when he does not mean to grasp a disagreeable idea. + +"I know it," Corona answered, resting her chin upon her hand and staring +at the fire. + +Giovanni surrendered unconditionally. + +"You are probably right, dear. You always are about people." + +"Well--then you must see the importance of what I say," said Corona +pushing her victory. + +"Of course, of course," answered Giovanni, squinting at the flames with +one eye between his outstretched fingers. + +"I wish you would wake up!" exclaimed Corona, taking the hand in hers +and drawing it to her. "Orsino is probably making love to Madame +d'Aranjuez at this very moment." + +"Then I will imitate him, and make love to you, my dear. I could not be +better occupied, and you know it. You used to say I did it very well." + +Corona laughed in her deep, soft voice. + +"Orsino is like you. That is what frightens me. He will make love too +well. Be serious, Giovanni. Think of what I am saying." + +"Let us dismiss the question then, for the simple reason that there is +absolutely nothing to be done. We cannot turn this good woman out of +Rome, and we cannot lock Orsino up in his room. To tell a boy not to +bestow his affections in a certain quarter is like ramming a charge into +a gun and then expecting that it will not come out by the same way. The +harder you ram it down the more noise it makes--that is all. Encourage +him and he may possibly tire of it. Hinder him and he will become +inconveniently heroic." + +"I suppose that is true," said Corona. "Then at least find out who the +woman is," she added, after a pause. + +"I will try," Giovanni answered. "I will even go to the length of +spending an hour a day at the club, if that will do any good--and you +know how I detest clubs. But if anything whatever is known of her, it +will be known there." + +Giovanni kept his word and expended more energy in attempting to find +out something about Madame d'Aranjuez during the next few days than he +had devoted to anything connected with society for a long time. Nearly +a week elapsed before his efforts met with any success. + +He was in the club one afternoon at an early hour, reading the papers, +and not more than three or four other men were present. Among them were +Frangipani and Montevarchi, who was formerly known as Ascanio Bellegra. +There was also a certain young foreigner, a diplomatist, who, like Sant' +Ilario, was reading a paper, most probably in search of an idea for the +next visit on his list. + +Giovanni suddenly came upon a description of a dinner and reception +given by Del Ferice and his wife. The paragraph was written in the usual +florid style with a fine generosity in the distribution of titles to +unknown persons. + +"The centre of all attraction," said the reporter, "was a most beautiful +Spanish princess, Donna Maria Consuelo d'A----z d'A----a, in whose +mysterious eyes are reflected the divine fires of a thousand triumphs, +and who was gracefully attired in olive green brocade--" + +"Oh! Is that it?" said Sant' Ilario aloud, and in the peculiar tone +always used by a man who makes a discovery in a daily paper. + +"What is it?" inquired Frangipani and Montevarchi in the same breath. +The young diplomatist looked up with an air of interrogation. + +Sant' Ilario read the paragraph aloud. All three listened as though the +fate of empires depended on the facts reported. + +"Just like the newspapers!" exclaimed Frangipani. "There probably is no +such person. Is there, Ascanio?" + +Montevarchi had always been a weak fellow, and was reported to be at +present very deep in the building speculations of the day. But there was +one point upon which he justly prided himself. He was a superior +authority on genealogy. It was his passion and no one ever disputed his +knowledge or decision. He stroked his fair beard, looked out of the +window, winked his pale blue eyes once or twice and then gave his +verdict. + +"There is no such person," he said gravely. + +"I beg your pardon, prince," said the young diplomatist, "I have met +her. She exists." + +"My dear friend," answered Montevarchi, "I do not doubt the existence of +the woman, as such, and I would certainly not think of disagreeing with +you, even if I had the slightest ground for doing so, which, I hasten to +say, I have not. Nor, of course, if she is a friend of yours, would I +like to say more on the subject. But I have taken some little interest +in genealogy and I have a modest library--about two thousand volumes, +only--consisting solely of works on the subject, all of which I have +read and many of which I have carefully annotated. I need not say that +they are all at your disposal if you should desire to make any +researches." + +Montevarchi had much of his murdered father's manner, without the old +man's strength. The young secretary of embassy was rather startled at +the idea of searching through two thousand volumes in pursuit of Madame +d'Aranjuez's identity. Sant' Ilario laughed. + +"I only mean that I have met the lady," said the young man. "Of course +you are right. I have no idea who she may really be. I have heard odd +stories about her." + +"Oh--have you?" asked Sant' Ilario with renewed interest. + +"Yes, very odd." He paused and looked round the room to assure himself +that no one else was present. "There are two distinct stories about her. +The first is this. They say that she is a South American prima donna, +who sang only a few months, at Rio de Janeiro and then at Buenos Ayres. +An Italian who had gone out there and made a fortune married her from +the stage. In coming to Europe, he unfortunately fell overboard and she +inherited all his money. People say that she was the only person who +witnessed the accident. The man's name was Aragno. She twisted it once +and made Aranjuez of it, and she turned it again and discovered that it +spelled Aragona. That is the first story. It sounds well at all events." + +"Very," said Sant' Ilario, with a laugh. + +"A profoundly interesting page in genealogy, if she happens to marry +somebody," observed Montevarchi, mentally noting all the facts. + +"What is the other story?" asked Frangipani. + +"The other story is much less concise and detailed. According to this +version, she is the daughter of a certain royal personage and of a +Polish countess. There is always a Polish countess in those stories! She +was never married. The royal personage has had her educated in a convent +and has sent her out into the wide world with a pretty fancy name of his +own invention, plentifully supplied with money and regular documents +referring to her union with the imaginary Aranjuez, and protected by a +sort of body-guard of mutes and duennas who never appear in public. She +is of course to make a great match for herself, and has come to Rome to +do it. That is also a pretty tale." + +"More interesting than the other," said Montevarchi. "These side lights +of genealogy, these stray rivulets of royal races, if I may so +poetically call them, possess an absorbing interest for the student. I +will make a note of it." + +"Of course, I do not vouch for the truth of a single word in either +story," observed the young man. "Of the two the first is the less +improbable. I have met her and talked to her and she is certainly not +less than five and twenty years old. She may be more. In any case she is +too old to have been just let out of a convent." + +"Perhaps she has been loose for some years," observed Sant' Ilario, +speaking of her as though she were a dangerous wild animal. + +"We should have heard of her," objected the other. "She has the sort of +personality which is noticed anywhere and which makes itself felt." + +"Then you incline to the belief that she dropped the Signor Aragno +quietly overboard in the neighbourhood of the equator?" + +"The real story may be quite different from either of those I have told +you." + +"And she is a friend of poor old Donna Tullia!" exclaimed Montevarchi +regretfully. "I am sorry for that. For the sake of her history I could +almost have gone to the length of making her acquaintance." + +"How the Del Ferice would rave if she could hear you call her poor old +Donna Tullia," observed Frangipani. "I remember how she danced at the +ball when I came of age!" + +"That was a long time ago, Filippo," said Montevarchi thoughtfully, "a +very long time ago. We were all young once, Filippo--but Donna Tullia is +really only fit to fill a glass case in a museum of natural history +now." + +The remark was not original, and had been in circulation some time. But +the three men laughed a little and Montevarchi was much pleased by their +appreciation. He and Frangipani began to talk together, and Sant' Ilario +took up his paper again. When the young diplomatist laid his own aside +and went out, Giovanni followed him, and they left the club together. + +"Have you any reason to believe that there is anything irregular about +this Madame d'Aranjuez?" asked Sant' Ilario. + +"No. Stories of that kind are generally inventions. She has not been +presented at Court--but that means nothing here. And there is a doubt +about her nationality--but no one has asked her directly about it." + +"May I ask who told you the stories?" + +The young man's face immediately lost all expression. + +"Really--I have quite forgotten," he said. "People have been talking +about her." + +Sant' Ilario justly concluded that his companion's informant was a lady, +and probably one in whom the diplomatist was interested. Discretion is +so rare that it can easily be traced to its causes. Giovanni left the +young man and walked away in the opposite direction, inwardly meditating +a piece of diplomacy quite foreign to his nature. He said to himself +that he would watch the man in the world and that it would be easy to +guess who the lady in question was. It would have been clear to any one +but himself that he was not likely to learn anything worth knowing, by +his present mode of procedure. + +"Gouache," he said, entering the artist's studio a quarter of an hour +later, "do you know anything about Madame d'Aranjuez?" + +"That is all I know," Gouache answered, pointing to Maria Consuelo's +portrait which stood finished upon an easel before him, set in an old +frame. He had been touching it when Giovanni entered. "That is all I +know, and I do not know that thoroughly. I wish I did. She is a +wonderful subject." + +Sant' Ilario gazed at the picture in silence. + +"Are her eyes really like these?" he asked at length. + +"Much finer." + +"And her mouth?" + +"Much larger," answered Gouache with a smile. + +"She is bad," said Giovanni with conviction, and he thought of the +Signor Aragno. + +"Women are never bad," observed Gouache with a thoughtful air. "Some are +less angelic than others. You need only tell them all so to assure +yourself of the fact." + +"I daresay. What is this person? French, Spanish--South American?" + +"I have not the least idea. She is not French, at all events." + +"Excuse me--does your wife know her?" + +Gouache glanced quickly at his visitor's face. + +"No." + +Gouache was a singularly kind man, and he did his best perhaps for +reasons of his own, to convey nothing by the monosyllable beyond the +simple negation of a fact. But the effort was not altogether successful. +There was an almost imperceptible shade of surprise in the tone which +did not escape Giovanni. On the other hand it was perfectly clear to +Gouache that Sant' Ilario's interest in the matter was connected with +Orsino. + +"I cannot find any one who knows anything definite," said Giovanni after +a pause. + +"Have you tried Spicca?" asked the artist, examining his work +critically. + +"No. Why Spicca?" + +"He always knows everything," answered Gouache vaguely. "By the way, +Saracinesca, do you not think there might be a little more light just +over the left eye?" + +"How should I know?" + +"You ought to know. What is the use of having been brought up under the +very noses of original portraits, all painted by the best masters and +doubtless ordered by your ancestors at a very considerable expense--if +you do not know?" + +Giovanni laughed. + +"My dear old friend," he said good-humouredly, "have you known us nearly +five and twenty years without discovering that it is our peculiar +privilege to be ignorant without reproach?" + +Gouache laughed in his turn. + +"You do not often make sharp remarks--but when you do!" + +Giovanni left the studio very soon, and went in search of Spicca. It was +no easy matter to find the peripatetic cynic on a winter's afternoon, +but Gouache's remark had seemed to mean something, and Sant' Ilario saw +a faint glimmer of hope in the distance. He knew Spicca's habits very +well, and was aware that when the sun was low he would certainly turn +into one of the many houses where he was intimate, and spend an hour +over a cup of tea. The difficulty lay in ascertaining which particular +fireside he would select on that afternoon. Giovanni hastily sketched a +route for himself and asked the porter at each of his friends' houses if +Spicca had entered. Fortune favoured him at last. Spicca was drinking +his tea with the Marchesa di San Giacinto. + +Giovanni paused a moment before the gateway of the palace in which San +Giacinto had inhabited a large hired apartment for many years. He did +not see much of his cousin, now, on account of differences in political +opinion, and he had no reason whatever for calling on Flavia, especially +as formal New Year's visits had lately been exchanged. However, as San +Giacinto was now a leading authority on questions of landed property in +the city, it struck him that he could pretend a desire to see Flavia's +husband, and make that an excuse for staying a long time, if necessary, +in order to wait for him. + +He found Flavia and Spicca alone together, with a small tea-table +between them. The air was heavy with the smoke of cigarettes, which +clung to the oriental curtains and hung in clouds about the rare palms +and plants. Everything in the San Giacinto house was large, comfortable +and unostentatious. There was not a chair to be seen which might not +have held the giant's frame. San Giacinto was a wonderful judge of what +was good. If he paid twice as much as Montevarchi for a horse, the horse +turned out to be capable of four times the work. If he bought a picture +at a sale, it was discovered to be by some good master and other people +wondered why they had lost courage in the bidding for a trifle of a +hundred francs. Nothing ever turned out badly with him, but no success +had the power to shake his solid prudence. No one knew how rich he was, +but those who had watched him understood that he would never let the +world guess at half his fortune. He was a giant in all ways and he had +shown what he could do when he had dominated Flavia during the first +year of their marriage. She had at first been proud of him, but about +the time when she would have wearied of another man, she discovered that +she feared him in a way she certainly did not fear the devil. Yet lie +had never spoken a harsh, word to her in his life. But there was +something positively appalling to her in his enormous strength, rarely +exhibited and never without good reason, but always quietly present, as +the outline of a vast mountain reflected in a placid lake. Then she +discovered to her great surprise that he really loved her, which she had +not expected, and at the end of three years he became aware that she +loved him, which was still more astonishing. As usual, his investment +had turned out well. + +At the time of which I am speaking Flavia was a slight, graceful woman +of forty years or thereabouts, retaining much of the brilliant +prettiness which served her for beauty, and conspicuous always for her +extremely bright eyes. She was of the type of women who live to a great +age. + +She had not expected to see Sant' Ilario, and as she gave her hand, she +looked up at him with an air of inquiry. It would have been like him to +say that he had come to see her husband and not herself, for he had no +tact with persons whom he did not especially like. There are such people +in the world. + +"Will you give me a cup of tea, Flavia?" he asked, as he sat down, after +shaking hands with Spicca. + +"Have you at last heard that your cousin's tea is good?" inquired the +latter, who was surprised by Giovanni's coming. + +"I am afraid it is cold," said Flavia, looking into the teapot, as +though she could discover the temperature by inspection. + +"It is no matter," answered Giovanni absently. + +He was wondering how he could lead the conversation to the discussion of +Madame d'Aranjuez. + +"You belong to the swallowers," observed Spicca, lighting a fresh +cigarette. "You swallow something, no matter what, and you are +satisfied." + +"It is the simplest way--one is never disappointed." + +"It is a pity one cannot swallow people in the same way," said Flavia +with a laugh. + +"Most people do," answered Spicca viciously. + +"Were you at the Jubilee on the first day?" asked Giovanni, addressing +Flavia. + +"Of course I was--and you spoke to me." + +"That is true. By the bye, I saw that excellent Donna Tullia there. I +wonder whose ticket she had." + +"She had the Princess Befana's," answered Spicca, who knew everything. +"The old lady happened to be dying--she always dies at the beginning of +the season--it used to be for economy, but it has become a habit--and so +Del Ferice bought her card of her servant for his wife." + +"Who was the lady who sat with her?" asked Giovanni, delighted with his +own skill. + +"You ought to know!" exclaimed Flavia. "We all saw Orsino take her out. +That is the famous, the incomparable Madame d'Aranjuez--the most +beautiful of Spanish princesses according to to-day's paper. I daresay +you have seen the account of the Del Ferice party. She is no more +Spanish than Alexander the Great. Is she, Spicca?" + +"No, she is not Spanish," answered the latter. + +"Then what in the world is she?" asked Giovanni impatiently. + +"How should I know? Of course it is very disagreeable for you." It was +Flavia who spoke. + +"Disagreeable? How?" + +"Why, about Orsino of course. Everybody says he is devoted to her." + +"I wish everybody would mind his and her business," said Giovanni +sharply. "Because a boy makes the acquaintance of a stranger at a +studio--" + +"Oh--it was at a studio? I did not know that." + +"Yes, at Gouache's--I fancied your sister might have told you that," +said Giovanni, growing more and more irritable, and yet not daring to +change the subject, lest he should lose some valuable information. +"Because Orsino makes her acquaintance accidentally, every one must say +that he is in love with her." + +Flavia laughed. + +"My dear Giovanni," she answered. "Let us be frank. I used never to +tell the truth under any circumstances, when I was a girl, but +Giovanni--my Giovanni--did not like that. Do you know what he did? He +used to cut off a hundred francs of my allowance for every fib I +told--laughing at me all the time. At the end of the first quarter I +positively had not a pair of shoes, and all my gloves had been cleaned +twice. He used to keep all the fines in a special pocket-book--if you +knew how hard I tried to steal it! But I could not. Then, of course, I +reformed. There was nothing else to be done--that or rags--fancy! And do +you know? I have grown quite used to being truthful. Besides, it is so +original, that I pose with it." + +Flavia paused, laughed a little, and puffed at her cigarette. + +"You do not often come to see me, Giovanni," she said, "and since you +are here I am going to tell you the truth about your visit. You are +beside yourself with rage at Orsino's new fancy, and you want to find +out all about this Madame d'Aranjuez. So you came here, because we are +Whites and you saw that she had been at the Del Ferice party, and you +know that we know them--and the rest is sung by the organ, as we say +when high mass is over. Is that the truth, or not?" + +"Approximately," said Giovanni, smiling in spite of himself. + +"Does Corona cut your allowance when you tell fibs?" asked Flavia. "No? +Then why say that it is only approximately true?" + +"I have my reasons. And you can tell me nothing?" + +"Nothing. I believe Spicca knows all about her. But he will not tell +what he knows." + +Spicca made no answer to this, and Giovanni determined to outstay him, +or rather, to stay until he rose to go and then go with him. It was +tedious work for he was not a man who could talk against time on all +occasions. But he struggled bravely and Spicca at last got up from his +deep chair. They went out together, and stopped as though by common +consent upon the brilliantly lighted landing of the first floor. + +"Seriously, Spicca," said Giovanni, "I am afraid Orsino is falling in +love with this pretty stranger. If you can tell me anything about her, +please do so." + +Spicca stared at the wall, hesitated a moment, and then looked straight +into his companion's eyes. + +"Have you any reason to suppose that I, and I especially, know anything +about this lady?" he asked. + +"No--except that you know everything." + +"That is a fable." Spicca turned from him and began to descend the +stairs. + +Giovanni followed and laid a hand upon his arm. + +"You will not do me this service?" he asked earnestly. + +Again Spicca stopped and looked at him. + +"You and I are very old friends, Giovanni," he said slowly. "I am older +than you, but we have stood by each other very often--in places more +slippery than these marble steps. Do not let us quarrel now, old friend. +When I tell you that my omniscience exists only in the vivid +imaginations of people whose tea I like, believe me, and if you wish to +do me a kindness--for the sake of old times--do not help to spread the +idea that I know everything." + +The melancholy Spicca had never been given to talking about friendship +or its mutual obligations. Indeed, Giovanni could not remember having +ever heard him speak as he had just spoken. It was perfectly clear that +he knew something very definite about Maria Consuelo, and he probably +had no intention of deceiving Giovanni in that respect. But Spicca also +knew his man, and he knew that his appeal for Giovanni's silence would +not be vain. + +"Very well," said Sant' Ilario. + +They exchanged a few indifferent words before parting, and then Giovanni +walked slowly homeward, pondering on the things he had heard that day. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + + +While Giovanni was exerting himself to little purpose in attempting to +gain information concerning Maria Consuelo, she had launched herself +upon the society of which the Countess Del Ferice was an important and +influential member. Chance, and probably chance alone, had guided her in +the matter of this acquaintance, for it could certainly not be said that +she had forced herself upon Donna Tullia, nor even shown any uncommon +readiness to meet the latter's advances. The offer of a seat in her +carriage had seemed natural enough, under the circumstances, and Donna +Tullia had been perfectly free to refuse it if she had chosen to do so. + +Though possessing but the very slightest grounds for believing herself +to be a born diplomatist, the Countess had always delighted in petty +plotting and scheming. She now saw a possibility of annoying all +Orsino's relations by attracting the object of Orsino's devotion to her +own house. She had no especial reason for supposing that the young man +was really very much in love with Madame d'Aranjuez, but her woman's +instinct, which far surpassed her diplomatic talents in acuteness, told +her that Orsino was certainly not indifferent to the interesting +stranger. She argued, primitively enough, that to annoy Orsino must be +equivalent to annoying his people, and she supposed that she could do +nothing more disagreeable to the young man's wishes than to induce +Madame d'Aranjuez to join that part of society from which all the +Saracinesca were separated by an insuperable barrier. + +And Orsino indeed resented the proceeding, as she had expected; but his +family were at first more inclined to look upon Donna Tullia as a good +angel who had carried off the tempter at the right moment to an +unapproachable distance. It was not to be believed that Orsino could do +anything so monstrous as to enter Del Ferice's house or ask a place in +Del Ferice's circle, and it was accordingly a relief to find that Madame +d'Aranjuez had definitely chosen to do so, and had appeared in +olive-green brocade at the Del Ferice's last party. The olive-green +brocade would now assuredly not figure in the gatherings of the +Saracinesca's intimate friends. + +Like every one else, Orsino read the daily chronicle of Roman life in +the papers, and until he saw Maria Consuelo's name among the Del +Ferice's guests, he refused to believe that she had taken the +irrevocable step he so much feared. He had still entertained vague +notions of bringing about a meeting between her and his mother, and he +saw at a glance that such a meeting was now quite out of the question. +This was the first severe shock his vanity had ever received and he was +surprised at the depth of his own annoyance. Maria Consuelo might indeed +have been seen once with Donna Tullia, and might have gone once to the +latter's day. That was bad enough, but might be remedied by tact and +decision in her subsequent conduct. But there was no salvation possible +after a person had been advertised in the daily paper as Madame +d'Aranjuez had been. Orsino was very angry. He had been once to see her +since his first visit, and she had said nothing about this invitation, +though Donna Tullia's name had been mentioned. He was offended with her +for not telling him that she was going to the dinner, as though he had +any right to be made acquainted with her intentions. He had no sooner +made the discovery than he determined to visit his anger upon her, and +throwing the paper aside went straight to the hotel where she was +stopping. + +Maria Consuelo was at home and he was ushered into the little +sitting-room without delay. To his inexpressible disgust he found Del +Ferice himself installed upon the chair near the table, engaged in +animated conversation with Madame d'Aranjuez. The situation was awkward +in the extreme. Orsino hoped that Del Ferice would go at once, and thus +avoid the necessity of an introduction. But Ugo did nothing of the kind. +He rose, indeed, but did not take his hat from the table, and stood +smiling pleasantly while Orsino shook hands with Maria Consuelo. + +"Let me make you acquainted," she said with exasperating calmness, and +she named the two men to each other. + +Ugo put out his hand quietly and Orsino was obliged to take it, which he +did coldly enough. Ugo had more than his share of tact, and he never +made a disagreeable impression upon any one if he could help it. Maria +Consuelo seemed to take everything for granted, and Orsino's appearance +did not disconcert her in the slightest degree. Both men sat down and +looked at her as though expecting that she would choose a subject of +conversation for them. + +"We were talking of the change in Rome," she said. "Monsieur Del Ferice +takes a great interest in all that is doing, and he was explaining to me +some of the difficulties with which he has to contend." + +"Don Orsino knows what they are, as well as I, though we might perhaps +differ as to the way of dealing with them," said Del Ferice. + +"Yes," answered Orsino, more coldly than was necessary. "You play the +active part, and we the passive." + +"In a certain sense, yes," returned the other, quite unruffled. "You +have exactly defined the situation, and ours is by far the more +disagreeable and thankless part to play. Oh--I am not going to defend +all we have done! I only defend what we mean to do. Change of any sort +is execrable to the man of taste, unless it is brought about by +time--and that is a beautifier which we have not at our disposal. We are +half Vandals and half Americans, and we are in a terrible hurry." + +Maria Consuelo laughed, and Orsino's face became a shade less gloomy. He +had expected to find Del Ferice the arrogant, self-satisfied apostle of +the modern, which he was represented to be. + +"Could you not have taken a little more time?" asked Orsino. + +"I cannot see how. Besides it is our time which takes us with it. So +long as Rome was the capital of an idea there was no need of haste in +doing anything. But when it became the capital of a modern kingdom, it +fell a victim to modern facts--which are not beautiful. The most we can +hope to do is to direct the current, clumsily enough, I daresay. We +cannot stop it. Nothing short of Oriental despotism could. We cannot +prevent people from flocking to the centre, and where there is a +population it must be housed." + +"Evidently," said Madame d'Aranjuez. + +"It seems to me that, without disturbing the old city, a new one might +have been built beside it," observed Orsino. + +"No doubt. And that is practically what we have done. I say 'we,' +because you say 'you.' But I think you will admit that, as far as +personal activity is concerned, the Romans of Rome are taking as active +a share in building ugly houses as any of the Italian Romans. The +destruction of the Villa Ludovisi, for instance, was forced upon the +owner not by the national government but by an insane municipality, and +those who have taken over the building lots are largely Roman princes of +the old stock." + +The argument was unanswerable, and Orsino knew it, a fact which did not +improve his temper. It was disagreeable enough to be forced into a +conversation with Del Ferice, and it was still worse to be obliged to +agree with him. Orsino frowned and said nothing, hoping that the subject +would drop. But Del Ferice had only produced an unpleasant impression in +order to remove it and thereby improve the whole situation, which was +one of the most difficult in which he had found himself for some time. + +"I repeat," he said, with a pleasant smile, "that it is hopeless to +defend all of what is actually done in our day in Rome. Some of your +friends and many of mine are building houses which even age and ruin +will never beautify. The only defensible part of the affair is the +political change which has brought about the necessity of building at +all, and upon that point I think that we may agree to differ. Do you not +think so, Don Orsino?" + +"By all means," answered the young man, conscious that the proposal was +both just and fitting. + +"And for the rest, both your friends and mine--for all I know, your own +family and certainly I myself--have enormous interests at stake. We may +at least agree to hope that none of us may be ruined." + +"Certainly--though we have had nothing to do with the matter. Neither my +father nor my grandfather have entered into any such speculation." + +"It is a pity," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. + +"Why a pity?" + +"On the one hand my instincts are basely commercial," Del Ferice +answered with a frank laugh. "No matter how great a fortune may be, it +may be doubled and trebled. You must remember that I am a banker in fact +if not exactly in designation, and the opportunity is excellent. But the +greater pity is that such men as you, Don Orsino, who could exercise as +much influence as it might please you to use, leave it to men--very +unlike you, I fancy--to murder the architecture of Rome and prepare the +triumph of the hideous." + +Orsino did not answer the remark, although he was not altogether +displeased with the idea it conveyed. Maria Consuelo looked at him. + +"Why do you stand aloof and let things go from bad to worse when you +might really do good by joining in the affairs of the day?" she asked. + +"I could not join in them, if I would," answered Orsino. + +"Why not?" + +"Because I have not command of a hundred francs in the world, Madame. +That is the simplest and best of all reasons." + +Del Ferice laughed incredulously. + +"The eldest son of Casa Saracinesca would not find that a practical +obstacle," he said, taking his hat and rising to go. "Besides, what is +needed in these transactions is not so much ready money as courage, +decision and judgment. There is a rich firm of contractors now doing a +large business, who began with three thousand francs as their whole +capital--what you might lose at cards in an evening without missing it, +though you say that you have no money at your command." + +"Is that possible?" asked Orsino with some interest. + +"It is a fact. There were three men, a tobacconist, a carpenter and a +mason, and they each had a thousand francs of savings. They took over a +contract last week for a million and a half, on which they will clear +twenty per cent. But they had the qualities--the daring and the prudence +combined. They succeeded." + +"And if they had failed, what would have happened?" + +"They would have lost their three thousand francs. They had nothing else +to lose, and there was nothing in the least irregular about their +transactions. Good evening, Madame--I have a private meeting of +directors at my house. Good evening, Don Orsino." + +He went out, leaving behind him an impression which was not by any means +disagreeable. His appearance was against him, Orsino thought. His fat +white face and dull eyes were not pleasant to look at. But he had shown +tact in a difficult situation, and there was a quiet energy about him, a +settled purpose which could not fail to please a young man who hated his +own idleness. + +Orsino found that his mood had changed. He was less angry than he had +meant to be, and he saw extenuating circumstances where he had at first +only seen a wilful mistake. He sat down again. + +"Confess that he is not the impossible creature you supposed," said +Maria Consuelo with a laugh. + +"No, he is not. I had imagined something very different. Nevertheless, I +wish--one never has the least right to wish what one wishes--" He +stopped in the middle of the sentence. + +"That I had not gone to his wife's party, you would say? But my dear Don +Orsino, why should I refuse pleasant things when they come into my +life?" + +"Was it so pleasant?" + +"Of course it was. A beautiful dinner--half a dozen clever men, all +interested in the affairs of the day, and all anxious to explain them to +me because I was a stranger. A hundred people or so in the evening, who +all seemed to enjoy themselves as much as I did. Why should I refuse all +that? Because my first acquaintance in Rome--who was Gouache--is so +'indifferent,' and because you--my second--are a pronounced clerical? +That is not reasonable." + +"I do not pretend to be reasonable," said Orsino. "To be reasonable is +the boast of people who feel nothing." + +"Then you are a man of heart?" Maria Consuelo seemed amused. + +"I make no pretence to being a man of head, Madame." + +"You are not easily caught." + +"Nor Del Ferice either." + +"Why do you talk of him?" + +"The opportunity is good, Madame. As he is just gone, we know that he is +not coming." + +"You can be very sarcastic, when you like," said Maria Consuelo. "But I +do not believe that you are as bitter as you make yourself out to be. I +do not even believe that you found Del Ferice so very disagreeable as +you pretend. You were certainly interested in what he said." + +"Interest is not always agreeable. The guillotine, for instance, +possesses the most lively interest for the condemned man at an +execution." + +"Your illustrations are startling. I once saw an execution, quite by +accident, and I would rather not think of it. But you can hardly compare +Del Ferice to the guillotine." + +"He is as noiseless, as keen and as sure," said Orsino smartly. + +"There is such a thing as being too clever," answered Maria Consuelo, +without a smile. + +"Is Del Ferice a case of that?" + +"No. You are. You say cutting things merely because they come into your +head, though I am sure that you do not always mean them. It is a bad +habit." + +"Because it makes enemies, Madame?" Orsino was annoyed by the rebuke. + +"That is the least good of good reasons." + +"Another, then?" + +"It will prevent people from loving you," said Maria Consuelo gravely. + +"I never heard that--" + +"No? It is true, nevertheless." + +"In that case I will reform at once," said Orsino, trying to meet her +eyes. But she looked away from him. + +"You think that I am preaching to you," she answered. "I have not the +right to do that, and if I had, I would certainly not use it. But I have +seen something of the world. Women rarely love a man who is bitter +against any one but himself. If he says cruel things of other women, the +one to whom he says them believes that he will say much worse of her to +the next he meets; if he abuses the men she knows, she likes it even +less--it is an attack on her judgment, on her taste and perhaps upon a +half-developed sympathy for the man attacked. One should never be witty +at another person's expense, except with one's own sex." She laughed a +little. + +"What a terrible conclusion!" + +"Is it? It is the true one." + +"Then the way to win a woman's love is to praise her acquaintances? That +is original." + +"I never said that." + +"No? I misunderstood. What is the best way?" + +"Oh--it is very simple," laughed Maria Consuelo. + +"Tell her you love her, and tell her so again and again--you will +certainly please her in the end." + +"Madame--" Orsino stopped, and folded his hands with an air of devout +supplication. + +"What?" + +"Oh, nothing! I was about to begin. It seemed so simple, as you say." + +They both laughed and their eyes met for a moment. + +"Del Ferice interests me very much," said Maria Consuelo, abruptly +returning to the original subject of conversation. "He is one of those +men who will be held responsible for much that is now doing. Is it not +true? He has great influence." + +"I have always heard so." Orsino was not pleased at being driven to talk +of Del Ferice again. + +"Do you think what he said about you so altogether absurd?" + +"Absurd, no--impracticable, perhaps. You mean his suggestion that I +should try a little speculation? Frankly, I had no idea that such things +could be begun with so little capital. It seems incredible. I fancy that +Del Ferice was exaggerating. You know how carelessly bankers talk of a +few thousands, more or less. Nothing short of a million has much meaning +for them. Three thousand or thirty thousand--it is much the same in +their estimation." + +"I daresay. After all, why should you risk anything? I suppose it is +simpler to play cards, though I should think it less amusing. I was only +thinking how easy it would be for you to find a serious occupation if +you chose." + +Orsino was silent for a moment, and seemed to be thinking over the +matter. + +"Would you advise me to enter upon such a business without my father's +knowledge?" he asked presently. + +"How can I advise you? Besides, your father would let you do as you +please. There is nothing dishonourable in such things. The prejudice +against business is old-fashioned, and if you do not break through it +your children will." + +Orsino looked thoughtfully at Maria Consuelo. She sometimes found an +oddly masculine bluntness with which to express her meaning, and which +produced a singular impression on the young man. It made him feel what +he supposed to be a sort of weakness, of which he ought to be ashamed. + +"There is nothing dishonourable in the theory," he answered, "and the +practice depends on the individual." + +Maria Consuelo laughed. + +"You see--you can be a moralist when you please," she said. + +There was a wonderful attraction in her yellow eyes just at that moment. + +"To please you, Madame, I could do something much worse--or much +better." + +He was not quite in earnest, but he was not jesting, and his face was +more serious than his voice. Maria Consuelo's hand was lying on the +table beside the silver paper-cutter. The white, pointed fingers were +very tempting and he would willingly have touched them. He put out his +hand. If she did not draw hers away he would lay his own upon it. If she +did, he would take up the paper-cutter. As it turned out, he had to +content himself with the latter. She did not draw her hand away as +though she understood what he was going to do, but quietly raised it and +turned the shade of the lamp a few inches. + +"I would rather not be responsible for your choice," she said quietly. + +"And yet you have left me none," he answered with, sudden boldness. + +"No? How so?" + +He held up the silver knife and smiled. + +"I do not understand," she said, affecting a look of surprise. + +"I was going to ask your permission to take your hand." + +"Indeed? Why? There it is." She held it out frankly. + +He took the beautiful fingers in his and looked at them for a moment. +Then he quietly raised them to his lips. + +"That was not included in the permission," she said, with a little laugh +and drawing back. "Now you ought to go away at once." + +"Why?" + +"Because that little ceremony can belong only to the beginning or the +end of a visit." + +"I have only just come." + +"Ah? How long the time has seemed! I fancied you had been here half an +hour." + +"To me it has seemed but a minute," answered Orsino promptly. + +"And you will not go?" + +There was nothing of the nature of a peremptory dismissal in the look +which accompanied the words. + +"No--at the most, I will practise leave-taking." + +"I think not," said Maria Consuelo with sudden coldness. "You are a +little too--what shall I say?--too enterprising, prince. You had better +make use of the gift where it will be a recommendation--in business, for +instance." + +"You are very severe, Madame," answered Orsino, deeming it wiser to +affect humility, though a dozen sharp answers suggested themselves to +his ready wit. + +Maria Consuelo was silent for a few seconds. Her head was resting upon +the little red morocco cushion, which heightened the dazzling whiteness +of her skin and lent a deeper colour to her auburn hair. She was gazing +at the hangings above the door. Orsino watched her in quiet admiration. +She was beautiful as he saw her there at that moment, for the +irregularities of her features were forgotten in the brilliancy of her +colouring and in the grace of the attitude. Her face was serious at +first. Gradually a smile stole over it, beginning, as it seemed, from +the deeply set eyes and concentrating itself at last in the full, red +mouth. Then she spoke, still looking upwards and away from him. + +"What would you think if I were not a little severe?" she asked. "I am a +woman living--travelling, I should say--quite alone, a stranger here, +and little less than a stranger to you. What would you think if I were +not a little severe, I say? What conclusion would you come to, if I let +you take my hand as often as you pleased, and say whatever suggested +itself to your imagination--your very active imagination?" + +"I should think you the most adorable of women--" + +"But it is not my ambition to be thought the most adorable of women by +you, Prince Orsino." + +"No--of course not. People never care for what they get without an +effort." + +"You are absolutely irrepressible!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo, laughing +in spite of herself. + +"And you do not like that! I will be meekness itself--a lamb, if you +please." + +"Too playful--it would not suit your style." + +"A stone--" + +"I detest geology." + +"A lap-dog, then. Make your choice, Madame. The menagerie of the +universe is at your disposal. When Adam gave names to the animals, he +could have called a lion a lap-dog--to reassure the Africans. But he +lacked imagination--he called a cat, a cat." + +"That had the merit of simplicity, at all events." + +"Since you admire his system, you may call me either Cain or Abel," +suggested Orsino. "Am I humble enough? Can submission go farther?" + +"Either would be flattery--for Abel was good and Cain was interesting." + +"And I am neither--you give me another opportunity of exhibiting my deep +humility. I thank you sincerely. You are becoming more gracious than I +had hoped." + +"You are very like a woman, Don Orsino. You always try to have the last +word." + +"I always hope that the last word may be the best. But I accept the +criticism--or the reproach, with my usual gratitude. I only beg you to +observe that to let you have the last word would be for me to end the +conversation, after which I should be obliged to go away. And I do not +wish to go, as I have already said." + +"You suggest the means of making you go," answered Maria Consuelo, with +a smile. "I can be silent--if you will not." + +"It will be useless. If you do not interrupt me, I shall become +eloquent--" + +"How terrible! Pray do not!" + +"You see! I have you in my power. You cannot get rid of me." + +"I would appeal to your generosity, then." + +"That is another matter, Madame," said Orsino, taking his hat. + +"I only said that I would--" Maria Consuelo made a gesture to stop him. + +But he was wise enough to see that the conversation had reached its +natural end, and his instinct told him that he should not outstay his +welcome. He pretended not to see the motion of her hand, and rose to +take his leave. + +"You do not know me," he said. "To point out to me a possible generous +action, is to ensure my performing it without hesitation. When may I be +so fortunate as to see you again, Madame?" + +"You need not be so intensely ceremonious. You know that I am always at +home at this hour." + +Orsino was very much struck by this answer. There was a shade of +irritation in the tone, which he had certainly not expected, and which +flattered him exceedingly. She turned her face away as she gave him her +hand and moved a book on the table with the other as though she meant to +begin reading almost before he should be out of the room. He had not +felt by any means sure that she really liked his society, and he had not +expected that she would so far forget herself as to show her inclination +by her impatience. He had judged, rightly or wrongly, that she was a +woman who weighed every word and gesture beforehand, and who would be +incapable of such an oversight as an unpremeditated manifestation of +feeling. + +Very young men are nowadays apt to imagine complications of character +where they do not exist, often overlooking them altogether where they +play a real part. The passion for analysis discovers what it takes for +new simple elements in humanity's motives, and often ends by feeding on +itself in the effort to decompose what is not composite. The greatest +analysers are perhaps the young and the old, who, being respectively +before and behind the times, are not so intimate with them as those who +are actually making history, political or social, ethical or scandalous, +dramatic or comic. + +It is very much the custom among those who write fiction in the English +language to efface their own individuality behind the majestic but +rather meaningless plural, "we," or to let the characters created +express the author's view of mankind. The great French novelists are +more frank, for they say boldly "I," and have the courage of their +opinions. Their merit is the greater, since those opinions seem to be +rarely complimentary to the human race in general, or to their readers +in particular. Without introducing any comparison between the fiction of +the two languages, it may be said that the tendency of the method is +identical in both cases and is the consequence of an extreme preference +for analysis, to the detriment of the romantic and very often of the +dramatic element in the modern novel. The result may or may not be a +volume of modern social history for the instruction of the present and +the future generation. If it is not, it loses one of the chief merits +which it claims; if it is, then we must admit the rather strange +deduction, that the political history of our times has absorbed into +itself all the romance and the tragedy at the disposal of destiny, +leaving next to none at all in the private lives of the actors and +their numerous relations. + +Whatever the truth may be, it is certain that this love of minute +dissection is exercising an enormous influence in our time; and as no +one will pretend that a majority of the young persons in society who +analyse the motives of their contemporaries and elders are successful +moral anatomists, we are forced to the conclusion that they are +frequently indebted to their imaginations for the results they obtain +and not seldom for the material upon which they work. A real Chemistry +may some day grow out of the failures of this fanciful Alchemy, but the +present generation will hardly live to discover the philosopher's stone, +though the search for it yield gold, indirectly, by the writing of many +novels. If fiction is to be counted among the arts at all, it is not yet +time to forget the saying of a very great man: "It is the mission of all +art to create and foster agreeable illusions." + +Orsino Saracinesca was no further removed from the action of the +analytical bacillus than other men of his age. He believed and desired +his own character to be more complicated than it was, and he had no +sooner made the acquaintance of Maria Consuelo than he began to +attribute to her minutest actions such a tortuous web of motives as +would have annihilated all action if it had really existed in her brain. +The possible simplicity of a strong and much tried character, good or +bad, altogether escaped him, and even an occasional unrestrained word or +gesture failed to convince him that he was on the wrong track. To tell +the truth, he was as yet very inexperienced. His visits to Maria +Consuelo passed in making light conversation. He tried to amuse her, and +succeeded fairly well, while at the same time he indulged in endless and +fruitless speculations as to her former life, her present intentions and +her sentiments with regard to himself. He would have liked to lead her +into talking of herself, but he did not know where to begin. It was not +a part of his system to believe in mysteries concerning people, but +when he reflected upon the matter he was amazed at the impenetrability +of the barrier which cut him off from all knowledge of her life. He soon +heard the tales about her which were carelessly circulated at the club, +and he listened to them without much interest, though he took the +trouble to deny their truth on his own responsibility, which surprised +the men who knew him and gave rise to the story that he was in love with +Madame d'Aranjuez. The most annoying consequence of the rumour was that +every woman to whom he spoke in society overwhelmed him with questions +which he could not answer except in the vaguest terms. In his ignorance +he did his best to evolve a satisfactory history for Maria Consuelo out +of his imagination, but the result was not satisfactory. + +He continued his visits to her, resolving before each meeting that he +would risk offending her by putting some question which she must either +answer directly or refuse to answer altogether. But he had not counted +upon his own inherent hatred of rudeness, nor upon the growth of an +attachment which he had not foreseen when he had coldly made up his mind +that it would be worth while to make love to her, as Gouache had +laughingly suggested. Yet he was pleased with what he deemed his own +coldness. He assuredly did not love her, but he knew already that he +would not like to give up the half hours he spent with her. To offend +her seriously would be to forfeit a portion of his daily amusement which +he could not spare. + +From time to time he risked a careless, half-jesting declaration such as +many a woman might have taken seriously. But Maria Consuelo turned such +advances with a laugh or by an answer that was admirably tempered with +quiet dignity and friendly rebuke. + +"If she is not good," he said to himself at last, "she must be +enormously clever. She must be one or the other." + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + + +Orsino's twenty-first birthday fell in the latter part of January, when +the Roman season was at its height, but as the young man's majority did +not bring him any of those sudden changes in position which make epochs +in the lives of fatherless sons, the event was considered as a family +matter and no great social celebration of it was contemplated. It +chanced, too, that the day of the week was the one appropriated by the +Montevarchi for their weekly dance, with which it would have been a +mistake to interfere. The old Prince Saracinesca, however, insisted that +a score of old friends should be asked to dinner, to drink the health of +his eldest grandson, and this was accordingly done. + +Orsino always looked back to that banquet as one of the dullest at which +he ever assisted. The friends were literally old, and their conversation +was not brilliant. Each one on arriving addressed to him a few +congratulatory and moral sentiments, clothed in rounded periods and +twanging of Cicero in his most sermonising mood. Each drank his especial +health at the end of the dinner in a teaspoonful of old "vin santo," and +each made a stiff compliment to Corona on her youthful appearance. The +men were almost all grandees of Spain of the first class and wore their +ribbons by common consent, which lent the assembly an imposing +appearance; but several of them were of a somnolent disposition and +nodded after dinner, which did not contribute to prolong the effect +produced. Orsino thought their stories and anecdotes very long-winded +and pointless, and even the old prince himself seemed oppressed by the +solemnity of the affair, and rarely laughed. Corona, with serene good +humour did her best to make conversation, and a shade of animation +occasionally appeared at her end of the table; but Sant' Ilario was +bored to the verge of extinction and talked of nothing but archaeology +and the trial of the Cenci, wondering inwardly why he chose such +exceedingly dry subjects. As for Orsino, the two old princesses between +whom he was placed paid very little attention to him, and talked across +him about the merits of their respective confessors and directors. He +frivolously asked them whether they ever went to the theatre, to which +they replied very coldly that they went to their boxes when the piece +was not on the Index and when there was no ballet. Orsino understood why +he never saw them at the opera, and relapsed into silence. The butler, a +son of the legendary Pasquale of earlier days, did his best to cheer the +youngest of his masters with a great variety of wines; but Orsino would +not be comforted either by very dry champagne or very mellow claret. But +he vowed a bitter revenge and swore to dance till three in the morning +at the Montevarchi's and finish the night with a rousing baccarat at the +club, which projects he began to put into execution as soon as was +practicable. + +In due time the guests departed, solemnly renewing their expressions of +good wishes, and the Saracinesca household was left to itself. The old +prince stood before the fire in the state drawing-room, rubbing his +hands and shaking his head. Giovanni and Corona sat on opposite sides of +the fireplace, looking at each other and somewhat inclined to laugh. +Orsino was intently studying a piece of historical tapestry which had +never interested him before. + +The silence lasted some time. Then old Saracinesca raised his head and +gave vent to his feelings, with all his old energy. + +"What a museum!" he exclaimed. "I would not have believed that I should +live to dine in my own house with a party of stranded figure-heads, set +up in rows around my table! The paint is all worn off and the brains are +all worn out and there is nothing left but a cracked old block of wood +with a ribbon around its neck. You will be just like them, Giovanni, in +a few years, for you will be just like me--we all turn into the same +shape at seventy, and if we live a dozen years longer it is because +Providence designs to make us an awful example to the young." + +"I hope you do not call yourself a figure-head," said Giovanni. + +"They are calling me by worse names at this very minute as they drive +home. 'That old Methuselah of a Saracinesca, how has he the face to go +on living?' That is the way they talk. 'People ought to die decently +when other people have had enough of them, instead of sitting up at the +table like death's-heads to grin at their grandchildren and +great-grandchildren!' They talk like that, Giovanni. I have known some +of those old monuments for sixty years and more--since they were babies +and I was of Orsino's age. Do you suppose I do not know how they talk? +You always take me for a good, confiding old fellow, Giovanni. But then, +you never understood human nature." + +Giovanni laughed and Corona smiled. Orsino turned round to enjoy the +rare delight of seeing the old gentleman rouse himself in a fit of +temper. + +"If you were ever confiding it was because you were too good," said +Giovanni affectionately. + +"Yes--good and confiding--that is it! You always did agree with me as to +my own faults. Is it not true, Corona? Can you not take my part against +that graceless husband of yours? He is always abusing me--as though I +were his property, or his guest. Orsino, my boy, go away--we are all +quarrelling here like a pack of wolves, and you ought to respect your +elders. Here is your father calling me by bad names--" + +"I said you were too good," observed Giovanni. + +"Yes--good and confiding! If you can find anything worse to say, say +it--and may you live to hear that good-for-nothing Orsino call you good +and confiding when you are eighty-two years old. And Corona is laughing +at me. It is insufferable. You used to be a good girl, Corona--but you +are so proud of having four sons that there is no possibility of talking +to you any longer. It is a pity that you have not brought them up +better. Look at Orsino. He is laughing too." + +"Certainly not at you, grandfather," the young man hastened to say. + +"Then you must be laughing at your father or your mother, or both, since +there is no one else here to laugh at. You are concocting sharp speeches +for your abominable tongue. I know it. I can see it in your eyes. That +is the way you have brought up your children, Giovanni. I congratulate +you. Upon my word, I congratulate you with all my heart! Not that I ever +expected anything better. You addled your own brains with curious +foreign ideas on your travels--the greater fool I for letting you run +about the world when you were young. I ought to have locked you up in +Saracinesca, on bread and water, until you understood the world well +enough to profit by it. I wish I had." + +None of the three could help laughing at this extraordinary speech. +Orsino recovered his gravity first, by the help of the historical +tapestry. The old gentleman noticed the fact. + +"Come here, Orsino, my boy," he said. "I want to talk to you." + +Orsino came forward. The old prince laid a hand on his shoulder and +looked up into his face. + +"You are twenty-one years old to-day," he said, "and we are all +quarrelling in honour of the event. You ought to be flattered that we +should take so much trouble to make the evening pass pleasantly for you, +but you probably have not the discrimination to see what your amusement +costs us." + +His grey beard shook a little, his rugged features twitched, and then a +broad good-humoured smile lit up the old face. + +"We are quarrelsome people," he continued in his most Cheerful and +hearty tone. "When Giovanni and I were young--we were young together, +you know--we quarrelled every day as regularly as we ate and drank. I +believe it was very good for us. We generally made it up before +night--for the sake of beginning again with a clear conscience. Anything +served us--the weather, the soup, the colour of a horse." + +"You must have led an extremely lively life," observed Orsino, +considerably amused. + +"It was very well for us, Orsino. But it will not do for you. You are +not so much like your father, as he was like me at your age. We fought +with the same weapons, but you two would not, if you fought at all. We +fenced for our own amusement and we kept the buttons on the foils. You +have neither my really angelic temper nor your father's stony +coolness--he is laughing again--no matter, he knows it is true. You have +a diabolical tongue. Do not quarrel with your father for amusement, +Orsino. His calmness will exasperate you as it does me, but you will not +laugh at the right moment as I have done all my life. You will bear +malice and grow sullen and permanently disagreeable. And do not say all +the cutting things you think of, because with your disposition you will +get into serious trouble. If you have really good cause for being angry, +it is better to strike than to speak, and in such cases I strongly +advise you to strike first. Now go and amuse yourself, for you must have +had enough of our company. I do not think of any other advice to give +you on your coming of age." + +Thereupon he laughed again and pushed his grandson away, evidently +delighted with the lecture he had given him. Orsino was quick to profit +by the permission and was soon in the Montevarchi ballroom, doing his +best to forget the lugubrious feast in his own honour at which he had +lately assisted. + +He was not altogether successful, however. He had looked forward to the +day for many months as one of rejoicing as well as of emancipation, and +he had been grievously disappointed. There was something of ill augury, +he thought, in the appalling dulness of the guests, for they had +congratulated him upon his entry into a life exactly similar to their +own. Indeed, the more precisely similar it proved to be, the more he +would be respected when he reached their advanced age. The future +unfolded to him was not gay. He was to live forty, fifty or even sixty +years in the same round of traditions and hampered by the same net of +prejudices. He might have his romance, as his father had had before him, +but there was nothing beyond that. His father seemed perfectly satisfied +with his own unruffled existence and far from desirous of any change. +The feudalism of it all was still real in fact, though abolished in +theory, and the old prince was as much a great feudal lord as ever, +whose interests were almost tribal in their narrowness, almost sordid in +their detail, and altogether uninteresting to his presumptive heir in +the third generation. What was the peasant of Aquaviva, for instance, to +Orsino? Yet Sant' Ilario and old Saracinesca took a lively interest in +his doings and in the doings of four or five hundred of his kind, whom +they knew by name and spoke of as belongings, much as they would have +spoken of books in the library. To collect rents from peasants and to +ascertain in person whether their houses needed repair was not a career. +Orsino thought enviously of San Giacinto's two sons, leading what seemed +to him a life of comparative activity and excitement in the Italian +army, and having the prospect of distinction by their own merits. He +thought of San Giacinto himself, of his ceaseless energy and of the +great position he was building up. San Giacinto was a Saracinesca as +well as Orsino, bearing the same name and perhaps not less respected +than the rest by the world at large, though he had sullied his hands +with finance. Even Del Ferice's position would have been above +criticism, but for certain passages in his earlier life not immediately +connected with his present occupation. And as if such instances were not +enough there were, to Orsino's certain knowledge, half a dozen men of +his father's rank even now deeply engaged in the speculations of the +day. Montevarchi was one of them, and neither he nor the others made any +secret of their doings. + +"Surely," thought Orsino, "I have as good a head as any of them, except, +perhaps, San Giacinto." + +And he grew more and more discontented with his lot, and more and more +angry at himself for submitting to be bound hand and foot and sacrificed +upon the altar of feudalism. Everything had disappointed and irritated +him on that day, the weariness of the dinner, the sight of his parents' +placid felicity, the advice his grandfather had given him--good of its +kind, but lamentably insufficient, to say the least of it. He was +rapidly approaching that state of mind in which young men do the most +unexpected things for the mere pleasure of surprising their relations. + +He grew tired of the ball, because Madame d'Aranjuez was not there. He +longed to dance with her and he wished that he were at liberty to +frequent the houses la which she was asked. But as yet she saw only the +Whites and had not made the acquaintance of a single Grey family, in +spite of his entreaties. He could not tell whether she had any fixed +reason in making her choice, or whether as yet it had been the result of +chance, but he discovered that he was bored wherever he went because she +was not present. At supper-time on this particular evening, he entered +into a conspiracy with certain choice spirits to leave the party and +adjourn to the club and cards. + +The sight of the tables revived him and he drew a long breath as he sat +down with a cigarette in his mouth and a glass at his elbow. It seemed +as though the day were beginning at last. + +Orsino was no more a born gambler than he was disposed to be a hard +drinker. He loved excitement in any shape, and being so constituted as +to bear it better than most men, he took it greedily in whatever form it +was offered to him. He neither played nor drank every day, but when he +did either he was inclined to play more than other people and to consume +more strong liquor. Yet his judgment was not remarkable, nor his head +much stronger than the heads of his companions. Great gamblers do not +drink, and great drinkers are not good players, though they are +sometimes amazingly lucky when in their cups. + +It is of no use to deny the enormous influence of brandy and games of +chance on the men of the present day, but there is little profit in +describing such scenes as take place nightly in many clubs all over +Europe. Something might be gained, indeed, if we could trace the causes +which have made gambling especially the vice of our generation, for that +discovery might show us some means of influencing the next. But I do not +believe that this is possible. The times have undoubtedly grown more +dull, as civilisation has made them more alike, but there is, I think, +no truth in the common statement that vice is bred of idleness. The +really idle man is a poor creature, incapable of strong sins. It is far +more often the man of superior gifts, with faculties overwrought and +nerves strained above concert pitch by excessive mental exertion, who +turns to vicious excitement for the sake of rest, as a duller man falls +asleep. Men whose lives are spent amidst the vicissitudes, surprises and +disappointments of the money market are assuredly less idle than country +gentlemen; the busy lawyer has less time to spare than the equally +gifted fellow of a college; the skilled mechanic works infinitely +harder, taking the average of the whole year, than the agricultural +labourer; the life of a sailor on an ordinary merchant ship is one of +rest, ease and safety compared with that of the collier. Yet there can +hardly be a doubt as to which individual in each example is the one to +seek relaxation in excitement, innocent or the reverse, instead of in +sleep. The operator in the stock market, the barrister, the mechanic, +the miner, in every case the men whose faculties are the more severely +strained, are those who seek strong emotions in their daily leisure, and +who are the more inclined to extend that leisure at the expense of +bodily rest. It may be objected that the worst vice is found in the +highest grades of society, that is to say, among men who have no settled +occupation. I answer that, in the first place, this is not a known fact, +but a matter of speculation, and that the conclusion is principally +drawn from the circumstance that the evil deeds of such persons, when +they become known, are very severely criticised by those whose criticism +has the most weight, namely by the equals of the sinners in question--as +well as by writers of fiction whose opinions may or may not be worth +considering. For one Zola, historian of the Rougon-Macquart family, +there are a hundred would-be Zolas, censors of a higher class, less +unpleasantly fond of accurate detail, perhaps, but as merciless in +intention. But even if the case against society be proved, which is +possible, I do not think that society can truly be called idle, because +many of those who compose it have no settled occupation. The social day +is a long one. Society would not accept the eight hours' system demanded +by the labour unions. Society not uncommonly works at a high pressure +for twelve, fourteen and even sixteen hours at a stretch. The mental +strain, though, not of the most intellectual order, is incomparably more +severe than that required for success in many lucrative professions or +crafts. The general absence of a distinct aim sharpens the faculties in +the keen pursuit of details, and lends an importance to trifles which +overburdens at every turn the responsibility borne by the nerves. Lazy +people are not favourites in drawing-rooms, and still less at the +dinner-table. Consider also that the average man of the world, and many +women, daily sustain an amount of bodily fatigue equal perhaps to that +borne by many mechanics and craftsmen and much greater than that +required in the liberal professions, and that, too, under far less +favourable conditions. Recapitulate all these points. Add together the +physical effort, the mental activity, the nervous strain. Take the sum +and compare it with that got by a similar process from other conditions +of existence. I think there can be little doubt of the verdict. The +force exerted is wasted, if you please, but it is enormously great, and +more than sufficient to prove that those who daily exert it are by no +means idle. Besides, none of the inevitable outward and visible results +of idleness are apparent in the ordinary society man or woman. On the +contrary, most of them exhibit the peculiar and unmistakable signs of +physical exhaustion, chief of which is cerebral anaemia. They are +overtrained and overworked. In the language of training they are +"stale." + +Men like Orsino Saracinesca are not vicious at his age, though they may +become so. Vice begins when the excitement ceases to be a matter of +taste and turns into a necessity. Orsino gambled because it amused him +when no other amusement was obtainable, and he drank while he played +because it made the amusement seem more amusing. He was far too young +and healthy and strong to feel an irresistible longing for anything not +natural. + +On the present occasion he cared very little, at first, whether he won +or lost, and as often happens to a man in that mood he won a +considerable sum during the first hour. The sight of the notes before +him strengthened an idea which had crossed his mind more than once of +late, and the stimulants he drank suddenly fixed it into a purpose. It +was true that he did not command any sum of money which could be +dignified by the name of capital, but he generally had enough in his +pocket to play with, and to-night he had rather more than usual. It +struck him that if he could win a few thousands by a run of luck, he +would have more than enough to try his fortune in the building +speculations of which Del Ferice had talked. The scheme took shape and +at once lent a passionate interest to his play. + +Orsino had no system and generally left everything to chance, but he +had no sooner determined that he must win than he improvised a method, +and began to play carefully. Of course he lost, and as he saw his heap +of notes diminishing, he filled his glass more and more often. By two +o'clock he had but five hundred francs left, his face was deadly pale, +the lights dazzled him and his hands moved uncertainly. He held the bank +and he knew that if he lost on the card he must borrow money, which he +did not wish to do. + +He dealt himself a five of spades, and glanced at the stakes. They were +considerable. A last sensation of caution prevented him from taking +another card. The table turned up a six and he lost. + +"Lend me some money, Filippo," he said to the man nearest him, who +immediately counted out a number of notes. + +Orsino paid with the money and the bank passed. He emptied his glass and +lit a cigarette. At each succeeding deal he staked a small sum and lost +it, till the bank came to him again. Once more he held a five. The other +men saw that he was losing and put up all they could. Orsino hesitated. +Some one observed justly that he probably held a five again. The lights +swam indistinctly before him and he drew another card. It was a four. +Orsino laughed nervously as he gathered the notes and paid back what he +had borrowed. + +He did not remember clearly what happened afterwards. The faces of the +cards grew less distinct and the lights more dazzling. He played blindly +and won almost without interruption until the other men dropped off one +by one, having lost as much as they cared to part with at one sitting. +At four o'clock in the morning Orsino went home in a cab, having about +fifteen thousand francs in his pockets. The men he had played with were +mostly young fellows like himself, having a limited allowance of pocket +money, and Orsino's winnings were very large under the circumstances. + +The night air cooled his head and he laughed gaily to himself as he +drove through the deserted streets. His hand was steady enough now, and +the gas lamps did not move disagreeably before his eyes. But he had +reached the stage of excitement in which a fixed idea takes hold of the +brain, and if it had been possible he would undoubtedly have gone as he +was, in evening dress, with his winnings in his pocket, to rouse Del +Ferice, or San Giacinto, or any one else who could put him in the way of +risking his money on a building lot. He reluctantly resigned himself to +the necessity of going to bed, and slept as one sleeps at twenty-one +until nearly eleven o'clock on the following morning. + +While he dressed he recalled the circumstances of the previous night and +was surprised to find that his idea was as fixed as ever. He counted the +money. There was five times as much as the Del Ferice's carpenter, +tobacconist and mason had been able to scrape together amongst them. He +had therefore, according to his simple calculation, just five times as +good a chance of succeeding as they. And they had been successful. His +plan fascinated him, and he looked forward to the constant interest and +occupation with a delight which was creditable to his character. He +would be busy and the magic word "business" rang in his ears. It was +speculation, no doubt, but he did not look upon it as a form of +gambling; if he had done so, he would not have cared for it on two +consecutive days. It was something much better in his eyes. It was to do +something, to be some one, to strike out of the everlastingly dull road +which lay before him and which ended in the vanishing point of an +insignificant old age. + +He had not the very faintest conception of what that business was with +which he aspired to occupy himself. He was totally ignorant of the +methods of dealing with money, and he no more knew what a draft at three +months meant than he could have explained the construction of the watch +he carried in his pocket. Of the first principles of building he knew, +if possible, even less and he did not know whether land in the city +were worth a franc or a thousand francs by the square foot. But he said +to himself that those things were mere details, and that he could learn +all he needed of them in a fortnight. Courage and judgment, Del Ferice +had said, were the chief requisites for success. Courage he possessed, +and he believed himself cool. He would avail himself of the judgment of +others until he could judge for himself. + +He knew very well what his father would think of the whole plan, but he +had no intention of concealing his project. Since yesterday, he was of +age and was therefore his own master to the extent of his own small +resources. His father had not the power to keep him from entering upon +any honourable undertaking, though he might justly refuse to be +responsible for the consequences. At the worst, thought Orsino, those +consequences might be the loss of the money he had in hand. Since he had +nothing else to risk, he had nothing else to lose. That is the light in +which most inexperienced people regard speculation. Orsino therefore +went to his father and unfolded his scheme, without mentioning Del +Ferice. + +Sant' Ilario listened rather impatiently and laughed when Orsino had +finished. He did not mean to be unkind, and if he had dreamed of the +effect his manner would produce, he would have been more careful. But he +did not understand his son, as he himself had been understood by his own +father. + +"This is all nonsense, my boy," he answered. "It is a mere passing +fancy. What do you know of business or architecture, or of a dozen other +matters which you ought to understand thoroughly before attempting +anything like what you propose?" + +Orsino was silent, and looked out of the window, though he was evidently +listening. + +"You say you want an occupation. This is not one. Banking is an +occupation, and architecture is a career, but what we call affairs in +Rome are neither one nor the other. If you want to be a banker you must +go into a bank and do clerk's work for years. If you mean to follow +architecture as a profession you must spend four or five years in study +at the very least." + +"San Giacinto has not done that," observed Orsino coldly. + +"San Giacinto has a very much better head on his shoulders than you, or +I, or almost any other man in Rome. He has known how to make use of +other men's talents, and he had a rather more practical education than I +would have cared to give you. If he were not one of the most honest men +alive he would certainly have turned out one of the greatest +scoundrels." + +"I do not see what that has to do with it," said Orsino. + +"Not much, I confess. But his early life made him understand men as you +and I cannot understand them, and need not, for that matter." + +"Then you object to my trying this?" + +"I do nothing of the kind. When I object to the doing of anything I +prevent it, by fair words or by force. I am not inclined for a pitched +battle with you, Orsino, and I might not get the better of you after +all. I will be perfectly neutral. I will have nothing to do with this +business. If I believed in it, I would give you all the capital you +could need, but I shall not diminish your allowance in order to hinder +you from throwing it away. If you want more money for your amusements or +luxuries, say so. I am not fond of counting small expenses, and I have +not brought you up to count them either. Do not gamble at cards any more +than you can help, but if you lose and must borrow, borrow of me. When I +think you are going too far, I will tell you so. But do not count upon +me for any help in this scheme of yours. You will not get it. If you +find yourself in a commercial scrape, find your own way out of it. If +you want better advice than mine, go to San Giacinto. He will give you a +practical man's view of the case." + +"You are frank, at all events," said Orsino, turning from the window +and facing his father. + +"Most of us are in this house," answered Sant' Ilario. "That will make +it all the harder for you to deal with the scoundrels who call +themselves men of business." + +"I mean to try this, father," said the young man. "I will go and see San +Giacinto, as you suggest, and I will ask his opinion. But if he +discourages me I will try my luck all the same. I cannot lead this life +any longer. I want an occupation and I will make one for myself." + +"It is not an occupation that you want, Orsino. It is another +excitement. That is all. If you want an occupation, study, learn +something, find out what work means. Or go to Saracinesca and build +houses for the peasants--you will do no harm there, at all events. Go +and drain that land in Lombardy--I can do nothing with it and would sell +it if I could. But that is not what you want. You want an excitement for +the hours of the morning. Very well. You will probably find more of it +than you like. Try it, that is all I have to say." + +Like many very just men Giovanni could state a case with alarming +unfairness when thoroughly convinced that he was right. Orsino stood +still for a moment and then walked towards the door without another +word. His father called him back. + +"What is it?" asked Orsino coldly. + +Sant' Ilario held out his hand with a kindly look in his eyes. + +"I do not want you to think that I am angry, my boy. There is to be no +ill feeling between us about this." + +"None whatever," said the young man, though without much alacrity, as he +shook hands with his father. "I see you are not angry. You do not +understand me, that is all." + +He went out, more disappointed with the result of the interview than he +had expected, though he had not looked forward to receiving any +encouragement. He had known very well what his father's views were but +he had not foreseen that he would be so much irritated by the +expression of them. His determination hardened and he resolved that +nothing should hinder him. But he was both willing and ready to consult +San Giacinto, and went to the latter's house immediately on leaving +Sant' Ilario's study. + +As for Giovanni, he was dimly conscious that he had made a mistake, +though he did not care to acknowledge it. He was a good horseman and he +was aware that he would have used a very different method with a restive +colt. But few men are wise enough to see that there is only one +universal principle to follow in the exertion of strength, moral or +physical; and instead of seeking analogies out of actions familiar to +them as a means of accomplishing the unfamiliar, they try to discover +new theories of motion at every turn and are led farther and farther +from the right line by their own desire to reach the end quickly. + +"At all events," thought Sant' Ilario, "the boy's new hobby will take +him to places where he is not likely to meet that woman." + +And with this discourteous reflection upon Madame d'Aranjuez he consoled +himself. He did not think it necessary to tell Corona of Orsino's +intentions, simply because he did not believe that they would lead to +anything serious, and there was no use in disturbing her unnecessarily +with visions of future annoyance. If Orsino chose to speak of it to her, +he was at liberty to do so. + + + + +CHAPTER X. + + +Orsino went directly to San Giacinto's house, and found him in the room +which he used for working and in which he received the many persons whom +he was often obliged to see on business. The giant was alone and was +seated behind a broad polished table, occupied in writing. Orsino was +struck by the extremely orderly arrangement of everything he saw. Papers +were tied together in bundles of exactly like shape, which lay in two +lines of mathematical precision. The big inkstand was just in the middle +of the rows and a paper-cutter, a pen-rack and an erasing knife lay side +by side in front of it. The walls were lined with low book-cases of a +heavy and severe type, filled principally with documents neatly filed in +volumes and marked on the back in San Giacinto's clear handwriting. The +only object of beauty in the room was a full-length portrait of Flavia +by a great artist, which hung above the fireplace. The rigid symmetry of +everything was made imposing by the size of the objects--the table was +larger than ordinary tables, the easy-chairs were deeper, broader and +lower than common, the inkstand was bigger, even the penholder in San +Giacinto's fingers was longer and thicker than any Orsino had ever seen. +And yet the latter felt that there was no affectation about all this. +The man to whom these things belonged and who used them daily was +himself created on a scale larger than other men. + +Though he was older than Sant' Ilario and was, in fact, not far from +sixty years of age San Giacinto might easily have passed for less than +fifty. There was hardly a grey thread in his short, thick, black hair, +and he was still as lean and strong, and almost as active, as he had +been thirty years earlier. The large features were perhaps a little more +bony and the eyes somewhat deeper than they had been, but these changes +lent an air of dignity rather than of age to the face. + +He rose to meet Orsino and then made him sit down beside the table. The +young man suddenly felt an unaccountable sense of inferiority and +hesitated as to how he should begin. + +"I suppose you want to consult me about something," said San Giacinto +quietly. + +"Yes. I want to ask your advice, if you will give it to me--about a +matter of business." + +"Willingly. What is it?" + +Orsino was silent for a moment and stared at the wall. He was conscious +that the very small sum of which he could dispose must seem even smaller +in the eyes of such a man, but this did not disturb him. He was +oppressed by San Giacinto's personality and prepared himself to speak as +though he had been a student undergoing oral examination. He stated his +case plainly, when he at last spoke. He was of age and he looked forward +with dread to an idle life. All careers were closed to him. He had +fifteen thousand francs in his pocket. Could San Giacinto help him to +occupy himself by investing the sum in a building speculation? Was the +sum sufficient as a beginning? Those were the questions. + +San Giacinto did not laugh as Sant' Ilario had done. He listened very +attentively to the end and then deliberately offered Orsino a cigar and +lit one himself, before he delivered his answer. + +"You are asking the same question which is put to me very often," he +said at last. "I wish I could give you any encouragement. I cannot." + +Orsino's face fell, for the reply was categorical. He drew back a little +in his chair, but said nothing. + +"That is my answer," continued San Giacinto thoughtfully, "but when one +says 'no' to another the subject is not necessarily exhausted. On the +contrary, in such a case as this I cannot let you go without giving you +my reasons. I do not care to give my views to the public, but such as +they are, you are welcome to them. The time is past. That is why I +advise you to have nothing to do with any speculation of this kind. That +is the best of all reasons." + +"But you yourself are still engaged in this business," objected Orsino. + +"Not so deeply as you fancy. I have sold almost everything which I do +not consider a certainty, and am selling what little I still have as +fast as I can. In speculation there are only two important moments--the +moment to buy and the moment to sell. In my opinion, this is the time +to sell, and I do not think that the time for buying will come again +without a crisis." + +"But everything is in such a flourishing state--" + +"No doubt it is--to-day. But no one can tell what state business will be +in next week, nor even to-morrow." + +"There is Del Ferice--" + +"No doubt, and a score like him," answered San Giacinto, looking quietly +at Orsino. "Del Ferice is a banker, and I am a speculator, as you wish +to be. His position is different from ours. It is better to leave him +out of the question. Let us look at the matter logically. You wish to +speculate--" + +"Excuse me," said Orsino, interrupting him. "I want to try what I can do +in business." + +"You wish to risk money, in one way or another. You therefore wish one +or more of three things--money for its own sake, excitement or +occupation. I can hardly suppose that you want money. Eliminate that. +Excitement is not a legitimate aim, and you can get it more safely in +other ways. Therefore you want occupation." + +"That is precisely what I said at the beginning," observed Orsino with a +shade of irritation. + +"Yes. But I like to reach my conclusions in my own way. You are then a +young man in search of an occupation. Speculation, and what you propose +is nothing else, is no more an occupation than playing at the public +lottery and much less one than playing at baccarat. There at least you +are responsible for your own mistakes and in decent society you are safe +from the machinations of dishonest people. That would matter less if the +chances were in your favour, as they might have been a year ago and as +they were in mine from the beginning. They are against you now, because +it is too late, and they are against me. I would as soon buy a piece of +land on credit at the present moment, as give the whole sum in cash to +the first man I met in the street." + +"Yet there is Montevarchi who still buys--" + +"Montevarchi is not worth the paper on which he signs his name," said +San Giacinto calmly. + +Orsino uttered an exclamation of surprise and incredulity. + +"You may tell him so, if you please," answered the giant with perfect +indifference. "If you tell any one what I have said, please to tell him +first, that is all. He will not believe you. But in six months he will +know it, I fancy, as well as I know it now. He might have doubled his +fortune, but he was and is totally ignorant of business. He thought it +enough to invest all he could lay hands on and that the returns would be +sure. He has invested forty millions and owns property which he believes +to be worth sixty, but which will not bring ten in six months, and those +remaining ten millions he owes on all manner of paper, on mortgages on +his original property, in a dozen ways which he has forgotten himself." + +"I do not see how that is possible!" exclaimed Orsino. + +"I am a plain man, Orsino, and I am your cousin. You may take it for +granted that I am right. Do not forget that I was brought up in a +hand-to-hand struggle for fortune such as you cannot dream of. When I +was your age I was a practical man of business, and I had taught myself, +and it was all on such a small scale that a mistake of a hundred francs +made the difference between profit and loss. I dislike details, but I +have been a man of detail all my life, by force of circumstances. +Successful business implies the comprehension of details. It is tedious +work, and if you mean to try it you must begin at the beginning. You +ought to do so. There is an enormous business before you, with +considerable capabilities in it. If I were in your place, I would take +what fell naturally to my lot." + +"What is that?" + +"Farming. They call it agriculture in parliament, because they do not +know what farming means. The men who think that Italy can live without +farmers are fools. We are not a manufacturing people any more than we +are a business people. The best dictator for us would be a practical +farmer, a ploughman like Cincinnatus. Nobody who has not tried to raise +wheat on an Italian mountain-side knows the great difficulties or the +great possibilities of our country. Do you know that bad as our farming +is, and absurd as is our system of land taxation, we are food exporters, +to a small extent? The beginning is there. Take my advice, be a farmer. +Manage one of the big estates you have amongst you for five or six +years. You will not do much good to the land in that time, but you will +learn what land really means. Then go into parliament and tell people +facts. That is an occupation and a career as well, which cannot be said +of speculation in building lots, large or small. If you have any ready +money keep it in government bonds until you have a chance of buying +something worth keeping." + +Orsino went away disappointed and annoyed. San Giacinto's talk about +farming seemed very dull to him. To bury himself for half a dozen years +in the country in order to learn the rotation of crops and the +principles of land draining did not present itself as an attractive +career. If San Giacinto thought farming the great profession of the +future, why did he not try it himself? Orsino dismissed the idea rather +indignantly, and his determination to try his luck became stronger by +the opposition it met. Moreover he had expected very different language +from San Giacinto, whose sober view jarred on Orsino's enthusiastic +impulse. + +But he now found himself in considerable difficulty. He was ignorant +even of the first steps to be taken, and knew no one to whom he could +apply for information. There was Prince Montevarchi indeed, who though +he was San Giacinto's brother-in-law, seemed by the latter's account to +have got into trouble. He did not understand how San Giacinto could +allow his wife's brother to ruin himself without lending him a helping +hand, but San Giacinto was not the kind of man of whom people ask +indiscreet questions, and Orsino had heard that the two men were not on +the best of terms. Possibly good advice had been offered and refused. +Such affairs generally end in a breach of friendship. However that might +be, Orsino would not go to Montevarchi. + +He wandered aimlessly about the streets, and the money seemed to burn in +his pocket, though he had carefully deposited it in a place of safety at +home. Again and again Del Ferice's story of the carpenter and his two +companions recurred to his mind. He wondered how they had set about +beginning, and he wished he could ask Del Ferice himself. He could not +go to the man's house, but he might possibly meet him at Maria +Consuelo's. He was surprised to find that he had almost forgotten her in +his anxiety to become a man of business. It was too early to call yet, +and in order to kill the time he went home, got a horse from the stables +and rode out into the country for a couple of hours. + +At half-past five o'clock he entered the familiar little sitting-room in +the hotel. Madame d'Aranjuez was alone, cutting a new book with the +jewelled knife which continued to be the only object of the kind visible +in the room. She smiled as Orsino entered, and she laid aside the volume +as he sat down in his accustomed place. + +"I thought you were not coming," she said. + +"Why?" + +"You always come at five. It is half-past to-day." Orsino looked at his +watch. + +"Do you notice whether I come or not?" he asked. + +Maria Consuelo glanced at his face, and laughed. + +"What have you been doing to-day?" she asked. "That is much more +interesting." + +"Is it? I am afraid not. I have been listening to those disagreeable +things which are called truths by the people who say them. I have +listened to two lectures delivered by two very intelligent men for my +especial benefit. It seems to me that as soon as I make a good +resolution it becomes the duty of sensible people to demonstrate that I +am a fool." + +"You are not in a good humour. Tell me all about it." + +"And weary you with my grievances? No. Is Del Ferice coming this +afternoon?" + +"How can I tell? He does not come often." + +"I thought he came almost every day," said Orsino gloomily. + +He was disappointed, but Maria Consuelo did not understand what was the +matter. She leaned forward in her low seat, her chin resting upon one +hand, and her tawny eyes fixed on Orsino's. + +"Tell me, my friend--are you unhappy? Can I do anything? Will you tell +me?" + +It was not easy to resist the appeal. Though the two had grown intimate +of late, there had hitherto always been something cold and reserved +behind her outwardly friendly manner. To-day she seemed suddenly willing +to be different. Her easy, graceful attitude, her soft voice full of +promised sympathy, above all the look in her strange eyes revealed a +side of her character which Orsino had not suspected and which affected +him in a way he could not have described. + +Without hesitation he told her his story, from beginning to end, simply, +without comment and without any of the cutting phrases which came so +readily to his tongue on most occasions. She listened very thoughtfully +to the end. + +"Those things are not misfortunes," she said. "But they may be the +beginnings of unhappiness. To be unhappy is worse than any misfortune. +What right has your father to laugh at you? Because he never needed to +do anything for himself, he thinks it absurd that his son should dislike +the lazy life that is prepared for him. It is not reasonable--it is not +kind!" + +"Yet he means to be both, I suppose," said Orsino bitterly. + +"Oh, of course! People always mean to be the soul of logic and the +paragon of charity! Especially where their own children are concerned." + +Maria Consuelo added the last words with more feeling than seemed +justified by her sympathy for Orsino's woes. The moment was perhaps +favourable for asking a leading question about herself, and her answer +might have thrown light on her problematic past. But Orsino was too busy +with his own troubles to think of that, and the opportunity slipped by +and was lost. + +"You know now why I want to see Del Ferice," he said. "I cannot go to +his house. My only chance of talking to him lies here." + +"And that is what brings you? You are very flattering!" + +"Do not be unjust! We all look forward to meeting our friends in +heaven." + +"Very pretty. I forgive you. But I am afraid that you will not meet Del +Ferice. I do not think he has left the Chambers yet. There was to be a +debate this afternoon in which he had to speak." + +"Does he make speeches?" + +"Very good ones. I have heard him." + +"I have never been inside the Chambers," observed Orsino. + +"You are not very patriotic. You might go there and ask for Del Ferice. +You could see him without going to his house--without compromising your +dignity." + +"Why do you laugh?" + +"Because it all seems to me so absurd. You know that you are perfectly +free to go and see him when and where you will. There is nothing to +prevent you. He is the one man of all others whose advice you need. He +has an unexceptional position in the world--no doubt he has done strange +things, but so have dozens of people whom you know--his present +reputation is excellent, I say. And yet, because some twenty years ago, +when you were a child, he held one opinion and your father held another, +you are interdicted from crossing his threshold! If you can shake hands +with him here, you can take his hand in his own house. Is not that +true?" + +"Theoretically, I daresay, but not in practice. You see it yourself. You +have chosen one side from the first, and all the people on the other +side know it. As a foreigner, you are not bound to either, and you can +know everybody in time, if you please. Society is not so prejudiced as +to object to that. But because you begin with the Del Ferice in a very +uncompromising way, it would take a long time for you to know the +Montevarchi, for instance." + +"Who told you that I was a foreigner?" asked Maria Consuelo, rather +abruptly. + +"You yourself--" + +"That is good authority!" She laughed. "I do not remember--ah! because I +do not speak Italian? You mean that? One may forget one's own language, +or for that matter one may never have learned it." + +"Are you Italian, then, Madame?" asked Orsino, surprised that she should +lead the conversation so directly to a point which he had supposed must +be reached by a series of tactful approaches. + +"Who knows? I am sure I do not. My father was Italian. Does that +constitute nationality?" + +"Yes. But the woman takes the nationality of her husband, I believe," +said Orsino, anxious to hear more. + +"Ah yes--poor Aranjuez!" Maria Consuelo's voice suddenly took that +sleepy tone which Orsino had heard more than once. Her eyelids drooped a +little and she lazily opened and shut her hand, and spread out the +fingers and looked at them. + +But Orsino was not satisfied to let the conversation drop at this point, +and after a moment's pause he put a decisive question. + +"And was Monsieur d'Aranjuez also Italian?" he asked. + +"What does it matter?" she asked in the same indolent tone. "Yes, since +you ask me, he was Italian, poor man." + +Orsino was more and more puzzled. That the name did not exist in Italy +he was almost convinced. He thought of the story of the Signor Aragno, +who had fallen overboard in the south seas, and then he was suddenly +aware that he could not believe in anything of the sort. Maria Consuelo +did not betray a shade of emotion, either, at the mention of her +deceased husband. She seemed absorbed in the contemplation of her hands. +Orsino had not been rebuked for his curiosity and would have asked +another question if he had known how to frame it. An awkward silence +followed. Maria Consuelo raised her eyes slowly and looked thoughtfully +into Orsino's face. + +"I see," she said at last. "You are curious. I do not know whether you +have any right to be--have you?" + +"I wish I had!" exclaimed Orsino thoughtlessly. + +Again she looked at him in silence for some moments. + +"I have not known you long enough," she said. "And if I had known you +longer, perhaps it would not be different. Are other people curious, +too? Do they talk about me?" + +"The people I know do--but they do not know you. They see your name in +the papers, as a beautiful Spanish princess. Yet everybody is aware that +there is no Spanish nobleman of your name. Of course they are curious. +They invent stories about you, which I deny. If I knew more, it would be +easier." + +"Why do you take the trouble to deny such things?" + +She asked the question with a change of manner. Once more she leaned +forward and her face softened wonderfully as she looked at him. + +"Can you not guess?" he asked. + +He was conscious of a very unusual emotion, not at all in harmony with +the imaginary character he had chosen for himself, and which he +generally maintained with considerable success. Maria Consuelo was one +person when she leaned back in her chair, laughing or idly listening to +his talk, or repulsing the insignificant declarations of devotion which +were not even meant to be taken altogether in earnest. She was pretty +then, attractive, graceful, feminine, a little artificial, perhaps, and +Orsino felt that he was free to like her or not, as he pleased, but that +he pleased to like her for the present. She was quite another woman +to-day, as she bent forward, her tawny eyes growing darker and more +mysterious every moment, her auburn hair casting wonderful shadows upon +her broad pale forehead, her lips not closed as usual, but slightly +parted, her fragrant breath just stirring the quiet air Orsino breathed. +Her features might be irregular. It did not matter. She was beautiful +for the moment with a kind of beauty Orsino had never seen, and which +produced a sudden and overwhelming effect upon him. + +"Do you not know?" he asked again, and his voice trembled unexpectedly. + +"Thank you," she said softly and she touched his hand almost +caressingly. + +But when he would have taken it, she drew back instantly and was once +more the woman whom he saw every day, careless, indifferent, pretty. + +"Why do you change so quickly?" he asked in a low voice, bending towards +her. "Why do you snatch your hand away? Are you afraid of me?" + +"Why should I be afraid? Are you dangerous?" + +"You are. You may be fatal, for all I know." + +"How foolish!" she exclaimed, with a quick glance. + +"You are Madame d'Aranjuez, now," he answered. "We had better change the +subject." + +"What do you mean?" + +"A moment ago you were Consuelo," he said boldly. + +"Have I given you any right to say that?" + +"A little." + +"I am sorry. I will be more careful. I am sure I cannot imagine why you +should think of me at all, unless when you are talking to me, and then I +do not wish to be called by my Christian name. I assure you, you are +never anything in my thoughts but His Excellency Prince Orsino +Saracinesca--with as many titles after that as may belong to you." + +"I have none," said Orsino. + +Her speech irritated him strongly, and the illusion which had been so +powerful a few moments earlier all but disappeared. + +"Then you advise me to go and find Del Ferice at Monte Citorio," he +observed. + +"If you like." She laughed. "There is no mistaking your intention when +you mean to change the subject," she added. + +"You made it sufficiently clear that the other was disagreeable to you." + +"I did not mean to do so." + +"Then in heaven's name, what do you mean, Madame?" he asked, suddenly +losing his head in his extreme annoyance. + +Maria Consuelo raised her eyebrows in surprise. + +"Why are you so angry?" she asked. "Do you know that it is very rude to +speak like that?" + +"I cannot help it. What have I done to-day that you should torment me as +you do?" + +"I? I torment you? My dear friend, you are quite mad." + +"I know I am. You make me so." + +"Will you tell me how? What have I done? What have I said? You Romans +are certainly the most extraordinary people. It is impossible to please +you. If one laughs, you become tragic. If one is serious, you grow gay! +I wish I understood you better." + +"You will end by making it impossible for me to understand myself," said +Orsino. "You say that I am changeable. Then what are you?" + +"Very much the same to-day as yesterday," said Maria Consuelo calmly. +"And I do not suppose that I shall be very different to-morrow." + +"At least I will take my chance of finding that you are mistaken," said +Orsino, rising suddenly, and standing before her. + +"Are you going?" she asked, as though she were surprised. + +"Since I cannot please you." + +"Since you will not." + +"I do not know how." + +"Be yourself--the same that you always are. You are affecting to be some +one else, to-day." + +"I fancy it is the other way," answered Orsino, with more truth than he +really owned to himself. + +"Then I prefer the affectation to the reality." + +"As you will, Madame. Good evening." + +He crossed the room to go out. She called him back. + +"Don Orsino!" + +He turned sharply round. + +"Madame?" + +Seeing that he did not move, she rose and went to him. He looked down +into her face and saw that it was changed again. + +"Are you really angry?" she asked. There was something girlish in the +way she asked the question, and, for a moment, in her whole manner. + +Orsino could not help smiling. But he said nothing. + +"No, you are not," she continued. "I can see it. Do you know? I am very +glad. It was foolish of me to tease you. You will forgive me? This +once?" + +"If you will give me warning the next time." He found that he was +looking into her eyes. + +"What is the use of warning?" she asked. + +They were very close together, and there was a moment's silence. +Suddenly Orsino forgot everything and bent down, clasping her in his +arms and kissing her again and again. It was brutal, rough, senseless, +but he could not help it. + +Maria Consuelo uttered a short, sharp cry, more of surprise, perhaps, +than of horror. To Orsino's amazement and confusion her voice was +immediately answered by another, which was that of the dark and usually +silent maid, whom he had seen once or twice. The woman ran into the +room, terrified by the cry she had heard. + +"Madame felt faint in crossing the room, and was falling when I caught +her," said Orsino, with a coolness that did him credit. + +And, in fact, Maria Consuelo closed her eyes as he let her sink into the +nearest chair. The maid fell on her knees beside her mistress and began +chafing her hands. + +"The poor Signora!" she exclaimed. "She should never be left alone! She +has not been herself since the poor Signore died. You had better leave +us, sir--I will put her to bed when she revives. It often happens--pray +do not be anxious!" + +Orsino picked up his hat and left the room. + +"Oh--it often happens, does it?" he said to himself as he closed the +door softly behind him and walked down the corridor of the hotel. + +He was more amazed at his own boldness than he cared to own. He had not +supposed that scenes of this description produced themselves so very +unexpectedly, and, as it were, without any fixed intention on the part +of the chief actor. He remembered that he had been very angry with +Madame d'Aranjuez, that she had spoken half a dozen words, and that he +had felt an irresistible impulse to kiss her. He had done so, and he +thought with considerable trepidation of their next meeting. She had +screamed, which showed that she was outraged by his boldness. It was +doubtful whether she would receive him again. The best thing to be done, +he thought, was to write her a very humble letter of apology, explaining +his conduct as best he could. This did not accord very well with his +principles, but he had already transgressed them in being so excessively +hasty. Her eyes had certainly been provoking in the extreme, and it had +been impossible to resist the expression on her lips. But at all events, +he should have begun by kissing her hand, which she would certainly not +have withdrawn again--then he might have put his arm round her and drawn +her head to his shoulder. These were preliminaries in the matter of +kissing which it was undoubtedly right to observe, and he had culpably +neglected them. He had been abominably brutal, and he ought to +apologise. Nevertheless, he would not have forfeited the recollection of +that moment for all the other recollections of his life, and he knew it. +As he walked along the street he felt a wild exhilaration such as he had +never known before. He owned gladly to himself that he loved Maria +Consuelo, and resolutely thrust away the idea that his boyish vanity was +pleased by the snatching of a kiss. + +Whatever the real nature of his delight might be it was for the time so +sincere that he even forgot to light a cigarette in order to think over +the circumstances. + +Walking rapidly up the Corso he came to the Piazza Colonna, and the +glare of the electric light somehow recalled him to himself. + +"Great speech of the Honourable Del Ferice!" yelled a newsboy in his +ear. "Ministerial crisis! Horrible murder of a grocer!" + +Orsino mechanically turned to the right in the direction of the +Chambers. Del Ferice had probably gone home, since his speech was +already in print. But fate had ordained otherwise. Del Ferice had +corrected his proofs on the spot and had lingered to talk with his +friends before going home. Not that it mattered much, for Orsino could +have found him as well on the following day. His brougham was standing +in front of the great entrance and he himself was shaking hands with a +tall man under the light of the lamps. Orsino went up to him. + +"Could you spare me a quarter of an hour?" asked the young man in a +voice constrained by excitement. He felt that he was embarked at last +upon his great enterprise. + +Del Ferice looked up in some astonishment. He had reason to dread the +quarrelsome disposition of the Saracinesca as a family, and he wondered +what Orsino wanted. + +"Certainly, certainly, Don Orsino," he answered, with a particularly +bland smile. "Shall we drive, or at least sit in my carriage? I am a +little fatigued with my exertions to-day." + +The tall man bowed and strolled away, biting the end of an unlit cigar. + +"It is a matter of business," said Orsino, before entering the carriage. +"Can you help me to try my luck--in a very small way--in one of the +building enterprises you manage?" + +"Of course I can, and will," answered Del Ferice, more and more +astonished. "After you, my dear Don Orsino, after you," he repeated, +pushing the young man into the brougham. "Quiet streets--till I stop +you," he said to the footman, as he himself got in. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +Del Ferice was surprised beyond measure at Orsino's request, and was not +guilty of any profoundly nefarious intention when he so readily acceded +to it. His own character made him choose as a rule to refuse nothing +that was asked of him, though his promises were not always fulfilled +afterwards. To express his own willingness to help those who asked, was +of course not the same as asserting his power to give assistance when +the time should come. In the present case he did not even make up his +mind which of two courses he would ultimately pursue. Orsino came to him +with a small sum of ready money in his hand. Del Ferice had it in his +power to make him lose that sum, and a great deal more besides, thereby +causing the boy endless trouble with his family; or else the banker +could, if he pleased, help him to a very considerable success. His +really superior talent for diplomacy inclined him to choose the latter +plan, but he was far too cautious to make any hasty decision. + +The brougham rolled on through quiet and ill-lighted streets, and Del +Ferice leaned back in his corner, not listening at all to Orsino's talk, +though he occasionally uttered a polite though utterly unintelligible +syllable or two which might mean anything agreeable to his companion's +views. The situation was easy enough to understand, and he had grasped +it in a moment. What Orsino might say was of no importance whatever, but +the consequences of any action on Del Ferice's part might be serious and +lasting. + +Orsino stated his many reasons for wishing to engage in business, as he +had stated them more than once already during the day and during the +past weeks, and when he had finished he repeated his first question. + +"Can you help me to try my luck?" he asked. + +Del Ferice awoke from his reverie with characteristic readiness and +realised that he must say something. His voice had never been strong and +he leaned out of his corner of the carriage in order to speak near +Orsino's ear. + +"I am delighted with all you say," he began, "and I scarcely need repeat +that my services are altogether at your disposal. The only question is, +how are we to begin? The sum you mention is certainly not large, but +that does not matter. You would have little difficulty in raising as +many hundreds of thousands as you have thousands, if money were +necessary. But in business of this kind the only ready money needed is +for stamp duty and for the wages of workmen, and the banks advance what +is necessary for the latter purpose, in small sums on notes of hand +guaranteed by a general mortgage. When you have paid the stamp duties, +you may go to the club and lose the balance of your capital at baccarat +if you please. The loss in that direction will not affect your credit as +a contractor. All that is very simple. You wish to succeed, however, not +at cards, but at business. That is the difficulty." + +Del Ferice paused. + +"That is not very clear to me," observed Orsino. + +"No--no," answered Del Ferice thoughtfully. "No--I daresay it is not so +very clear. I wish I could make it clearer. Speculation means gambling +only when the speculator is a gambler. Of course there are successful +gamblers in the world, but there are not many of them. I read somewhere +the other day that business was the art of handling other +people's-money. The remark is not particularly true. Business is the art +of creating a value where none has yet existed. That is what you wish to +do. I do not think that a Saracinesca would take pleasure in turning +over money not belonging to him." + +"Certainly not!" exclaimed Orsino. "That is usury." + +"Not exactly, but it is banking; and banking, it is quite true, is usury +within legal bounds. There is no question of that here. The operation is +simple in the extreme. I sell you a piece of land on the understanding +that you will build upon it, and instead of payment you give me a +mortgage. I lend you money from month to month in small sums at a small +interest, to pay for material and labour. You are only responsible upon +one point. The money is to be used for the purpose stated. When the +building is finished you sell it. If you sell it for cash, you pay off +the mortgage, and receive the difference. If you sell it with the +mortgage, the buyer becomes the mortgager and only pays you the +difference, which remains yours, out and out. That is the whole process +from beginning to end." + +"How wonderfully simple!" + +"It is almost primitive in its simplicity," answered Del Ferice gravely. +"But in every case two difficulties present themselves, and I am bound +to tell you that they are serious ones." + +"What are they?" + +"You must know how to buy in the right part of the city and you must +have a competent assistant. The two conditions are indispensable." + +"What sort of an assistant?" asked Orsino. + +"A practical man. If possible, an architect, who will then have a share +of the profits instead of being paid for his work." + +"Is it very hard to find such a person?" + +"It is not easy." + +"Do you think you could help me?" + +"I do not know. I am assuming a great responsibility in doing so. You do +not seem to realise that, Don Orsino." + +Del Ferice laughed a little in his quiet way, but Orsino was silent. It +was the first time that the banker had reminded him of the vast +difference in their social and political positions. + +"I do not think it would be very wise of me to help you into such a +business as this," said Del Ferice cautiously. "I speak quite selfishly +and for my own sake. Success is never certain, and it would be a great +injury to me if you failed." + +He was beginning to make up his mind. + +"Why?" asked Orsino. His own instincts of generosity were aroused. He +would certainly not do Del Ferice an injury if he could help it, nor +allow him to incur the risk of one. + +"If you fail," answered the other, "all Rome will say that I have +intentionally brought about your failure. You know how people talk. +Thousands will become millions and I shall be accused of having plotted +the destruction of your family, because your father once wounded me in a +duel, nearly five and twenty years ago." + +"How absurd!" + +"No, no. It is not absurd. I am afraid I have the reputation of being +vindictive. Well, well--it is in bad taste to talk of oneself. I am good +at hating, perhaps, but I have always felt that I preferred peace to +war, and now I am growing old. I am not what I once was, Don Orsino, and +I do not like quarrelling. But I would not allow people to say +impertinent things about me, and if you failed and lost money, I should +be abused by your friends, and perhaps censured by my own. Do you see? +Yes, I am selfish. I admit it. You must forgive that weakness in me. I +like peace." + +"It is very natural," said Orsino, "and I have no right to put you in +danger of the slightest inconvenience. But, after all, why need I appear +before the public?" + +Del Ferice smiled in the dark. + +"True," he answered. "You could establish an anonymous firm, so to say, +and the documents would be a secret between you and me and the notary. +Of course there are many ways of managing such an affair quietly." + +He did not add that the secret could only be kept so long as Orsino was +successful. It seemed a pity to damp so much good enthusiasm. + +"We will do that, then, if you will show me how. My ambition is not to +see my name on a door-plate, but to be really occupied." + +"I understand, I understand," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. "I must ask +you to give me until to-morrow to consider the matter. It needs a little +thought." + +"Where can I find you, to hear your decision?" + +Del Ferice was silent for a moment. + +"I think I once met you late in the afternoon at Madame d'Aranjuez's. We +might manage to meet there to-morrow and come away together. Shall we +name an hour? Would it suit you?" + +"Perfectly," answered Orsino with alacrity. + +The idea of meeting Maria Consuelo alone was very disturbing in his +present state of mind. He felt that he had lost his balance in his +relations with her, and that in order to regain it he must see her in +the presence of a third person, if only for a quarter of an hour. It +would be easier, then, to resume the former intercourse and to say +whatever he should determine upon saying. If she were offended, she +would at least not show it in any marked way before Del Ferice. Orsino's +existence, he thought, was becoming complicated for the first time, and +though he enjoyed the vague sensation of impending difficulty, he wanted +as many opportunities as possible of reviewing the situation and of +meditating upon each new move. + +He got out of Del Ferice's carriage at no great distance from his own +home, and after a few words of very sincere thanks walked slowly away. +He found it very hard to arrange his thoughts in any consecutive order, +though he tried several methods of self-analysis, and repeated to +himself that he had experienced a great happiness and was probably on +the threshold of a great success. These two reflections did not help him +much. The happiness had been of the explosive kind, and the success in +the business matter was more than problematic, as well as certainly +distant in the future. + +He was very restless and craved the immediate excitement of further +emotions, so that he would certainly have gone to the club that night, +had not the fear of losing his small and precious capital deterred him. +He thought of all that was coming and he determined to be careful, even +sordid if necessary, rather than lose his chance of making the great +attempt. Besides, he would cut a poor figure on the morrow if he were +obliged to admit to Del Ferice that he had lost his fifteen thousand +francs and was momentarily penniless. He accordingly shut himself up in +his own room at an early hour, and smoked in solitude until he was +sleepy, reviewing the various events of the day, or trying to do so, +though his mind reverted constantly to the one chief event of all, to +the unaccountable outburst of passion by which he had perhaps offended +Maria Consuelo beyond forgiveness. With all his affectation of +cynicism he had not learned that sin is easy only because it meets with +such very general encouragement. Even if he had been aware of that +undeniable fact, the knowledge might not have helped him very +materially. + +The hours passed very slowly during the next day, and even when the +appointed time had come, Orsino allowed another quarter of an hour to go +by before he entered the hotel and ascended to the little sitting-room +in which Maria Consuelo received. He meant to be sure that Del Ferice +was there before entering, but he was too proud to watch for the +latter's coming, or to inquire of the porter whether Maria Consuelo were +alone or not. It seemed simpler in every way to appear a little late. + +But Del Ferice was a busy man and not always punctual, so that to +Orsino's considerable confusion, he found Maria Consuelo alone, in spite +of his precaution. He was so much surprised as to become awkward, for +the first time in his life, and he felt the blood rising in his face, +dark as he was. + +"Will you forgive me?" he asked, almost timidly, as he held out his +hand. + +Maria Consuelo's tawny eyes looked curiously at him. Then she smiled +suddenly. + +"My dear child," she said, "you should not do such things! It is very +foolish, you know." + +The answer was so unexpected and so exceedingly humiliating, as Orsino +thought at first, that he grew pale and drew back a little. But Maria +Consuelo took no notice of his behaviour, and settled herself in her +accustomed chair. + +"Did you find Del Ferice last night?" she asked, changing the subject +without the least hesitation. + +"Yes," answered Orsino. + +Almost before the word was spoken there was a knock at the door and Del +Ferice appeared. Orsino's face cleared, as though something pleasant had +happened, and Maria Consuelo observed the fact. She concluded, naturally +enough, that the two men had agreed to meet in her sitting-room, and +she resented the punctuality which she supposed they had displayed in +coming almost together, especially after what had happened on the +preceding day. She noted the cordiality with which they greeted each +other and she felt sure that she was right. On the other hand she could +not afford to show the least coldness to Del Ferice, lest he should +suppose that she was annoyed at being disturbed in her conversation with +Orsino. The situation was irritating to her, but she made the best of it +and began to talk to Del Ferice about the speech he had made on the +previous evening. He had spoken well, and she found it easy to be just +and flattering at the same time. + +"It must be an immense satisfaction to speak as you do," said Orsino, +wishing to say something at least agreeable. + +Del Ferice acknowledged the compliment by a deprecatory gesture. + +"To speak as some of my colleagues can--yes--it must be a great +satisfaction. But Madame d'Aranjuez exaggerates. And, besides, I only +make speeches when I am called upon to do so. Speeches are wasted in +nine cases out of ten, too. They are, if I may say so, the music at the +political ball. Sometimes the guests will dance, and sometimes they will +not, but the musicians must try and suit the taste of the great invited. +The dancing itself is the thing." + +"Deeds not words," suggested Maria Consuelo, glancing at Orsino, who +chanced to be looking at her. + +"That is a good motto enough," he said gloomily. + +"Deeds may need explanation, _post facto_," remarked Del Ferice, +unconsciously making such a direct allusion to recent events that Orsino +looked sharply at him, and Maria Consuelo smiled. + +"That is true," she said. + +"And when you need any one to help you, it is necessary to explain your +purpose beforehand," observed Del Ferice. "That is what happens so often +in politics, and in other affairs of life as well. If a man takes money +from me without my consent, he steals, but if I agree to his taking it, +the transaction becomes a gift or a loan. A despotic government steals, +a constitutional one borrows or receives free offerings. The fact that +the despot pays interest on a part of what he steals raises him to the +position of the magnanimous brigand who leaves his victims just enough +money to carry them to the nearest town. Possibly it is after all a +quibble of definitions, and the difference may not be so great as it +seems at first sight. But then, all morality is but the shadow cast on +one side or the other of a definition." + +"Surely that is not your political creed!" said Maria Consuelo. + +"Certainly not, Madame, certainly not," answered Del Ferice in gentle +protest. "It is not a creed at all, but only a very poor explanation of +the way in which most experienced people look upon the events of their +day. The idea in which we believe is very different from the results it +has brought about, and very much higher, and very much better. But the +results are not all bad either. Unfortunately the bad ones are on the +surface, and the good ones, which are enduring, must be sought in places +where the honest sunshine has not yet dispelled the early shadows." + +Maria Consuelo smiled faintly, and the slight cast in her eyes was more +than usually apparent, as though her attention were wandering. Orsino +said nothing, and wondered why Del Ferice continued to talk. The latter, +indeed, was allowing himself to run on because neither of his hearers +seemed inclined to make a remark which might serve to turn the +conversation, and he began to suspect that something had occurred before +his coming which had disturbed their equanimity. + +He presently began to talk of people instead of ideas, for he had no +intention of being thought a bore by Madame d'Aranjuez, and the man who +is foolish enough to talk of anything but his neighbours, when he has +more than one hearer, is in danger of being numbered with the +tormentors. + +Half an hour passed quickly enough after the common chord had been +struck, and Del Ferice and Orsino exchanged glances of intelligence, +meaning to go away together as had been agreed. Del Ferice rose first, +and Orsino took up his hat. To his surprise and consternation Maria +Consuelo made a quick and imperative sign to him to remain. Del Ferice's +dull blue eyes saw most things that happened within the range of their +vision, and neither the gesture nor the look that accompanied it escaped +him. + +Orsino's position was extremely awkward. He had put Del Ferice to some +inconvenience on the understanding that they were to go away together +and did not wish to offend him by not keeping his engagement. On the +other hand it was next to impossible to disobey Maria Consuelo, and to +explain his difficulty to Del Ferice was wholly out of the question. He +almost wished that the latter might have seen and understood the signal. +But Del Ferice made no sign and took Maria Consuelo's offered hand, in +the act of leavetaking. Orsino grew desperate and stood beside the two, +holding his hat. Del Ferice turned to shake hands with him also. + +"But perhaps you are going too," he said, with a distinct interrogation. + +Orsino glanced at Maria Consuelo as though imploring her permission to +take his leave, but her face was impenetrable, calm and indifferent. + +Del Ferice understood perfectly what was taking place, but he found a +moment while Orsino hesitated. If the latter had known how completely he +was in Del Ferice's power throughout the little scene, he would have +then and there thrown over his financial schemes in favour of Maria +Consuelo. But Del Ferice's quiet, friendly manner did not suggest +despotism, and he did not suffer Orsino's embarrassment to last more +than five seconds. + +"I have a little proposition to make," said the fat count, turning +again to Maria Consuelo. "My wife and I are alone this evening. Will you +not come and dine with us, Madame? And you, Don Orsino, will you not +come too? We shall just make a party of four, if you will both come." + +"I shall be enchanted!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo without hesitation. + +"I shall be delighted!" answered Orsino with an alacrity which surprised +himself. + +"At eight then," said Del Ferice, shaking hands with him again, and in a +moment he was gone. + +Orsino was too much confused, and too much delighted at having escaped +so easily from his difficulty to realise the importance of the step he +was taking in going to Del Fence's house, or to ask himself why the +latter had so opportunely extended the invitation. He sat down in his +place with a sigh of relief. + +"You have compromised yourself for ever," said Maria Consuelo with a +scornful laugh. "You, the blackest of the Black, are to be numbered +henceforth with the acquaintances of Count Del Ferice and Donna Tullia." + +"What difference does it make? Besides, I could not have done +otherwise." + +"You might have refused the dinner." + +"I could not possibly have done that. To accept was the only way out of +a great difficulty." + +"What difficulty?" asked Maria Consuelo relentlessly. + +Orsino was silent, wondering how he could explain, as explain he must, +without offending her. + +"You should not do such things," she said suddenly. "I will not always +forgive you." + +A gleam of light which, indeed, promised little forgiveness, flashed in +her eyes. + +"What things?" asked Orsino. + +"Do not pretend that you think me so simple," she said, in a tone of +irritation. "You and Del Ferice come here almost at the same moment. +When he goes, you show the utmost anxiety to go too. Of course you have +agreed to meet here. It is evident. You might have chosen the steps of +the hotel for your place of meeting instead of my sitting-room." + +The colour rose slowly in her cheeks. She was handsome when she was +angry. + +"If I had imagined that you could be displeased--" + +"Is it so surprising? Have you forgotten what happened yesterday? You +should be on your knees, asking my forgiveness for that--and instead, +you make a convenience of your visit to-day in order to meet a man of +business. You have very strange ideas of what is due to a woman." + +"Del Fence suggested it," said Orsino, "and I accepted the suggestion." + +"What is Del Ferice to me, that I should be made the victim of his +suggestions, as you call them? Besides, he does not know anything of +your folly of yesterday, and he has no right to suspect it." + +"I cannot tell you how sorry I am." + +"And yet you ought to tell me, if you expect that I will forget all +this. You cannot? Then be so good as to do the only other sensible thing +in your power, and leave me as soon as possible." + +"Forgive me, this once!" Orsino entreated in great distress, but not +finding any words to express his sense of humiliation. + +"You are not eloquent," she said scornfully. "You had better go. Do not +come to the dinner this evening, either. I would rather not see you. You +can easily make an excuse." + +Orsino recovered himself suddenly. + +"I will not go away now, and I will not give up the dinner to-night," he +said quietly. + +"I cannot make you do either--but I can leave you," said Maria Consuelo, +with a movement as though she were about to rise from her chair. + +"You will not do that," Orsino answered. + +She raised her eyebrows in real or affected surprise at his persistence. + +"You seem very sure of yourself," she said. "Do not be so sure of me." + +"I am sure that I love you. Nothing else matters." He leaned forward and +took her hand, so quickly that she had not time to prevent him. She +tried to draw it away, but he held it fast. + +"Let me go!" she cried. "I will call, if you do not!" + +"Call all Rome if you will, to see me ask your forgiveness. Consuelo--do +not be so hard and cruel--if you only knew how I love you, you would be +sorry for me, you would see how I hate myself, how I despise myself for +all this--" + +"You might show a little more feeling," she said, making a final effort +to disengage her hand, and then relinquishing the struggle. + +Orsino wondered whether he were really in love with her or not. Somehow, +the words he sought did not rise to his lips, and he was conscious that +his speech was not of the same temperature, so to say, as his actions. +There was something in Maria Consuelo's manner which disturbed him +disagreeably, like a cold draught blowing unexpectedly through a warm +room. Still he held her hand and endeavoured to rise to the occasion. + +"Consuelo!" he cried in a beseeching tone. "Do not send me away--see how +I am suffering--it is so easy for you to say that you forgive!" + +She looked at him a moment, and her eyelids drooped suddenly. + +"Will you let me go, if I forgive you?" she asked in a low voice. + +"Yes." + +"I forgive you then. Well? Do you still hold my hand?" + +"Yes." + +He leaned forward and tried to draw her toward him, looking into her +eyes. She yielded a little, and their faces came a little nearer to +each other, and still a little nearer. All at once a deep blush rose in +her cheeks, she turned her head away and drew back quickly. + +"Not for all the world!" she exclaimed, in a tone that was new to +Orsino's ear. + +He tried to take her hand again, but she would not give it. + +"No, no! Go--you are not to be trusted!" she cried, avoiding him. + +"Why are you so unkind?" he asked, almost passionately. + +"I have been kind enough for this day," she answered. "Pray go--do not +stay any longer--I may regret it." + +"My staying?" + +"No--my kindness. And do not come again for the present. I would rather +see you at Del Ferice's than here." + +Orsino was quite unable to understand her behaviour, and an older and +more experienced man might have been almost as much puzzled as he. A +long silence followed, during which he sat quite still and she looked +steadily at the cover of a book which lay on the table. + +"Please go," she said at last, in a voice which was not unkind. + +Orsino rose from his seat and prepared to obey her, reluctantly enough +and feeling that he was out of tune with himself and with everything. + +"Will you not even tell me why you send me away?" he asked. + +"Because I wish to be alone," she answered. "Good-bye." + +She did not look up as he left the room, and when he was gone she did +not move from her place, but sat as she had sat before, staring at the +yellow cover of the novel on the table. + +Orsino went home in a very unsettled frame of mind, and was surprised to +find that the lighted streets looked less bright and cheerful than on +the previous evening, and his own immediate prospects far less +pleasing. He was angry with himself for having been so foolish as to +make his visit to Maria Consuelo a mere appointment with Del Ferice, and +he was surprised beyond measure to find himself suddenly engaged in a +social acquaintance with the latter, when he had only meant to enter +into relations of business with him. Yet it did not occur to him that +Del Ferice had in any way entrapped him into accepting the invitation. +Del Ferice had saved him from a very awkward situation. Why? Because Del +Ferice had seen the gesture Maria Consuelo had made, and had understood +it, and wished to give Orsino another opportunity of discussing his +project. But if Del Ferice had seen the quick sign, he had probably +interpreted it in a way compromising to Madame d'Aranjuez. This was +serious, though it was assuredly not Orsino's fault if she compromised +herself. She might have let him go without question, and since an +explanation of some sort was necessary she might have waited until the +next day to demand it of him. He resented what she had done, and yet +within the last quarter of an hour, he had been making a declaration of +love to her. He was further conscious that the said declaration had been +wholly lacking in spirit, in passion and even in eloquence. He probably +did not love her after all, and with an attempt at his favourite +indifference he tried to laugh at himself. + +But the effort was not successful, and he felt something approaching to +pain as he realised that there was nothing to laugh at. He remembered +her eyes and her face and the tones of her voice, and he imagined that +if he could turn back now and see her again, he could say in one breath +such things as would move a statue to kisses. The very phrases rose to +his lips and he repeated them to himself as he walked along. + +Most unaccountable of all had been Maria Consuelo's own behaviour. Her +chief preoccupation seemed to have been to get rid of him as soon as +possible. She had been very seriously offended with him to-day, much +more deeply, indeed, than yesterday, though, the cause appeared to his +inexperience to be a far less adequate one. It was evident, he thought, +that she had not really pardoned his want of tact, but had yielded to +the necessity of giving a reluctant forgiveness, merely because she did +not wish to break off her acquaintance with him. On the other hand, she +had allowed him to say again and again that he loved her, and she had +not forbidden him to call her by her name. + +He had always heard that it was hard to understand women, and he began +to believe it. There was one hypothesis which he had not considered. It +was faintly possible that she loved him already, though he was slow to +believe that, his vanity lying in another direction. But even if she +did, matters were not clearer. The supposition could not account for her +sending him away so abruptly and with such evident intention. If she +loved him, she would naturally, he supposed, wish him to stay as long as +possible. She had only wished to keep him long enough to tell him how +angry she was. He resented that again, for he was in the humour to +resent most things. + +It was all extremely complicated, and Orsino began to think that he +might find the complication less interesting than he had expected a few +hours earlier. He had little time for reflection either, since he was to +meet both Maria Consuelo and Del Ferice at dinner. He felt as though the +coming evening were in a measure to decide his future existence, and it +was indeed destined to exercise a great influence upon his life, as any +person not disturbed by the anxieties which beset him might easily have +foreseen. + +Before leaving the house he made an excuse to his mother, saying that he +had unexpectedly been asked to dine with friends, and at the appointed +hour he rang at Del Ferice's door. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + + +Orsino looked about him with some curiosity as he entered Del Fence's +abode. He had never expected to find himself the guest of Donna Tullia +and her husband and when he took the robust countess's hand he was +inclined to wish that the whole affair might turn out to be a dream. In +vain he repeated to himself that he was no longer a boy, but a grown +man, of age in the eyes of the law to be responsible for his own +actions, and old enough in fact to take what steps he pleased for the +accomplishment of his own ends. He found no solace in the reflection, +and he could not rid himself of the idea that he had got himself into a +very boyish scrape. It would indeed have been very easy to refuse Del +Ferice's invitation and to write him a note within the hour explaining +vaguely that circumstances beyond his control obliged him to ask another +interview for the discussion of business matters. But it was too late +now. He was exchanging indifferent remarks with Donna Tullia, while Del +Ferice looked on benignantly, and all three waited for Madame +d'Aranjuez. + +Five minutes had not elapsed before she came, and her appearance +momentarily dispelled Orsino's annoyance at his own rashness. He had +never before seen her dressed for the evening, and he had not realised +how much to her advantage the change from the ordinary costume, or the +inevitable "tea-garment," to a dinner gown would be. She was assuredly +not over-dressed, for she wore black without colours and her only +ornament was a single string of beautiful pearls which Donna Tullia +believed to be false, but which Orsino accepted as real. Possibly he +knew even more about pearls than the countess, for his mother had many +and wore them often, whereas Donna Tullia preferred diamonds and rubies. +But his eyes did not linger on the necklace, for Maria Consuelo's whole +presence affected him strangely. There was something light-giving and +even dazzling about her which he had not expected, and he understood for +the first time that the language of the newspaper paragraphs was not so +grossly flattering as he had supposed. In spite of the great artistic +defects of feature, which could not long escape an observer of ordinary +taste, it was clear that Maria Consuelo must always be a striking and +central figure in any social assembly, great or small. There had been +moments in Orsino's acquaintance with her, when he had thought her +really beautiful; as she now appeared, one of those moments seemed to +have become permanent. He thought of what he had dared on the preceding +day, his vanity was pleased and his equanimity restored. With a sense of +pride which was very far from being delicate and was by no means well +founded, he watched her as she walked in to dinner before him, leaning +on Del Ferice's arm. + +"Beautiful--eh? I see you think so," whispered Donna Tullia in his ear. + +The countess treated him at once as an old acquaintance, which put him +at his ease, while it annoyed his conscience. + +"Very beautiful," he answered, with a grave nod. + +"And so mysterious," whispered the countess again, just as they reached +the door of the dining-room. "She is very fascinating--take care!" + +She tapped his arm familiarly with her fan and laughed, as he left her +at her seat. + +"What are you two laughing at?" asked Del Ferice, smiling pleasantly as +he surveyed the six oysters he found upon his plate, and considered +which should be left until the last as the crowning tit-bit. He was fond +of good eating, and especially fond of oysters as an introduction to the +feast. + +"What we were laughing at? How indiscreet you are, Ugo! You always want +to find out all my little secrets. Consuelo, my dear, do you like +oysters, or do you not? That is the question. You do, I know--a little +lemon and a very little red pepper--I love red, even to adoring +cayenne!" + +Orsino glanced at Madame d'Aranjuez, for he was surprised to hear Donna +Tullia call her by her first name. He had not known that the two women +had reached the first halting place of intimacy. + +Maria Consuelo smiled rather vaguely as she took the advice in the shape +of lemon juice and pepper. Del Ferice could not interrupt his enjoyment +of the oysters by words, and Orsino waited for an opportunity of saying +something witty. + +"I have lately formed the highest opinion of the ancient Romans," said +Donna Tullia, addressing him. "Do you know why?" + +Orsino professed his ignorance. + +"Ugo tells me that in a recent excavation twenty cartloads of oyster +shells were discovered behind one house. Think of that! Twenty cartloads +to a single house! What a family must have lived there--indeed the +Romans were a great people!" + +Orsino thought that Donna Tullia herself might pass for a heroine in +future ages, provided that the shells of her victims were deposited +together in a safe place. He laughed politely and hoped that the +conversation might not turn upon archaeology, which was not his strong +point. + +"I wonder how long it will be before modern Rome is excavated and the +foreigner of the future pays a franc to visit the ruins of the modern +house of parliament," suggested Maria Consuelo, who had said nothing as +yet. + +"At the present rate of progress, I should think about two years would +be enough," answered Donna Tullia. "But Ugo says we are a great nation. +Ask him." + +"Ah, my angel, you do not understand those things," said Del Ferice. +"How shall I explain? There is no development without decay of the +useless parts. The snake casts its old skin before it appears with a new +one. And there can be no business without an occasional crisis. +Unbroken fair weather ends in a dead calm. Why do you take such a gloomy +view, Madame?" + +"One should never talk of things--only people are amusing," said Donna +Tullia, before Madame d'Aranjuez could answer. "Whom have you seen +to-day, Consuelo? And you, Don Orsino? And you, Ugo? Are we to talk for +ever of oysters, and business and snakes? Come, tell me, all of you, +what everybody has told you. There must be something new. Of course that +poor Carantoni is going to be married again, and the Princess Befana is +dying, as usual, and the same dear old people have run away with each +other, and all that. Of course. I wish things were not always just going +to happen. One would like to hear what is said on the day after the +events which never come off. It would be a novelty." + +Donna Tullia loved talk and noise, and gossip above all things, and she +was not quite at her ease. The news that Orsino was to come to dinner +had taken her breath away. Ugo had advised her to be natural, and she +was doing her best to follow his advice. + +"As for me," he said, "I have been tormented all day, and have spent but +one pleasant half hour. I was so fortunate as to find Madame d'Aranjuez +at home, but that was enough to indemnify me for many sacrifices." + +"I cannot do better than say the same," observed Orsino, though with far +less truth. "I believe I have read through a new novel, but I do not +remember the title and I have forgotten the story." + +"How satisfactory!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo, with a little scorn. + +"It is the only way to read novels," answered Orsino, "for it leaves +them always new to you, and the same one may be made to last several +weeks." + +"I have heard it said that one should fear the man of one book," +observed Maria Consuelo, looking at him. + +"For my part, I am more inclined to fear the woman of many." + +"Do you read much, my dear Consuelo?" asked Donna Tullia, laughing. + +"Perpetually." + +"And is Don Orsino afraid of you?" + +"Mortally," answered Orsino. "Madame d'Aranjuez knows everything." + +"Is she blue, then?" asked Donna Tullia. + +"What shall I say, Madame?" inquired Orsino, turning to Maria Consuelo. +"Is it a compliment to compare you to the sky of Italy?" + +"For blueness?" + +"No--for brightness and serenity." + +"Thanks. That is pretty. I accept." + +"And have you nothing for me?" asked Donna Tullia, with an engaging +smile. + +The other two looked at Orsino, wondering what he would say in answer to +such a point-blank demand for flattery. + +"Juno is still Minerva's ally," he said, falling back upon mythology, +though it struck him that Del Ferice would make a poor Jupiter, with his +fat white face and dull eyes. + +"Very good!" laughed Donna Tullia. "A little classic, but I pressed you +hard. You are not easily caught. Talking of clever men," she added with +another meaning glance at Orsino, "I met your friend to-day, Consuelo." + +"My friend? Who is he?" + +"Spicca, of course. Whom did you think I meant? We always laugh at her," +she said, turning to Orsino, "because she hates him so. She does not +know him, and has never spoken to him. It is his cadaverous face that +frightens her. One can understand that--we of old Rome, have been used +to him since the deluge. But a stranger is horrified at the first sight +of him. Consuelo positively dreads to meet him in the street. She says +that he makes her dream of all sorts of horrors." + +"It is quite true," said Maria Consuelo, with a slight movement of her +beautiful shoulders. "There are people one would rather not see, merely +because they are not good to look at. He is one of them and if I see him +coming I turn away." + +"I know, I told him so to-day," continued Donna Tullia cheerfully. "We +are old friends, but we do not often meet nowadays. Just fancy! It was +in that little antiquary's shop in the Monte Brianzo--the first on the +left as you go, he has good things--and I saw a bit of embroidery in the +window that took my fancy, so I stopped the carriage and went in. Who +should be there but Spicca, hat and all, looking like old Father Time. +He was bargaining for something--a wretched old bit of +brass--bargaining, my dear! For a few sous! One may be poor, but one has +no right to be mean--I thought he would have got the miserable +antiquary's skin." + +"Antiquaries can generally take care of themselves," observed Orsino +incredulously. + +"Oh, I daresay--but it looks so badly, you know. That is all I mean. +When he saw me he stopped wrangling and we talked a little, while I had +the embroidery wrapped up. I will show it to you after dinner. It is +sixteenth century, Ugo says--a piece of a chasuble--exquisite flowers on +claret-coloured satin, a perfect gem, so rare now that everything is +imitated. However, that is not the point. It was Spicca. I was +forgetting my story. He said the usual things, you know--that he had +heard that I was very gay this year, but that it seemed to agree with +me, and so on. And I asked him why he never came to see me, and as an +inducement I told him of our great beauty here--that is you, Consuelo, +so please look delighted instead of frowning--and I told him that she +ought to hear him talk, because his face had frightened her so that she +ran away when she saw him coming towards her in the street. You see, if +one flatters his cleverness he does not mind being called ugly--or at +least I thought not, until to-day. But to my consternation he seemed +angry, and he asked me almost savagely if it were true that the +Countess d'Aranjuez--that is what he called you, my dear--really tried +to avoid him in the street. Then I laughed and said I was only joking, +and he began to bargain again for the little brass frame and I went +away. When I last heard his voice he was insisting upon seventy-five +centimes, and the antiquary was jeering at him and asking a franc and a +half. I wonder which got the better of the fight in the end. I will ask +him the next time I see him." + +Del Ferice supported his wife with a laugh at her story, but it was not +very genuine. He had unpleasant recollections of Spicca in earlier days, +and his name recalled events which Ugo would willingly have forgotten. +Orsino smiled politely, but resented the way in which Donna Tullia spoke +of his father's old friend. As for Maria Consuelo, she was a little +pale, and looked tired. But the countess was irrepressible, for she +feared lest Orsino should go away and think her dull. + +"Of course we all really like Spicca," she said. "Every one does." + +"I do, for my part," said Orsino gravely. "I have a great respect for +him, for his own sake, and he is one of my father's oldest friends." + +Maria Consuelo looked at him very suddenly, as though she were surprised +by what he said. She did not remember to have heard him mention the +melancholy old duellist. She seemed about to say something, but changed +her mind. + +"Yes," said Ugo, turning the subject, "he is one of the old tribe that +is dying out. What types there were in those days, and how those who are +alive have changed! Do you remember, Tullia? But of course you cannot, +my angel, it was far before your time." + +One of Ugo's favourite methods of pleasing his wife was to assert that +she was too young to remember people who had indeed played a part as +lately as after the death of her first husband. It always soothed her. + +"I remember them all," he continued. "Old Montevarchi, and Frangipani, +and poor Casalverde--and a score of others." + +He had been on the point of mentioning old Astrardente, too, but checked +himself. + +"Then there were the young ones, who are in middle age now," he went on, +"such as Valdarno and the Montevarchi whom you know, as different from +their former selves as you can well imagine. Society was different too." + +Del Ferice spoke thoughtfully and slowly, as though wishing that some +one would interrupt him or take up the subject, for he felt that his +wife's long story about Spicca and the antiquary had not been a success, +and his instinct told him that Spicca had better not be mentioned again, +since he was a friend of Orsino's and since his name seemed to exert a +depressing influence on Maria Consuelo. Orsino came to the rescue and +began to talk of current social topics in a way which showed that he was +not so profoundly prejudiced by traditional ideas as Del Ferice had +expected. The momentary chill wore off quickly enough, and when the +dinner ended Donna Tullia was sure that it had been a success. They all +returned to the drawing-room and then Del Ferice, without any remark, +led Orsino away to smoke with him in a distant apartment. + +"We can smoke again, when we go back," he said. "My wife does not mind +and Madame d'Aranjuez likes it. But it is an excuse to be alone together +for a little while, and besides, my doctor makes me lie down for a +quarter of an hour after dinner. You will excuse me?" + +Del Ferice extended himself upon a leathern lounge, and Orsino sat down +in a deep easy-chair. + +"I was so sorry not to be able to come away with you to-day," said +Orsino. "The truth is, Madame d'Aranjuez wanted some information and I +was just going to explain that I would stay a little longer, when you +asked us both to dinner. You must have thought me very forgetful." + +"Not at all, not at all," answered Del Ferice. "Indeed, I quite supposed +that you were coming with me, when it struck me that this would be a +much more pleasant place for talking. I cannot imagine why I had not +thought of it before--but I have so many details to think of." + +Not much could be said for the veracity of either of the statements +which the two men were pleased to make to each other, but Orsino had the +small advantage of being nearer to the letter, if not to the spirit of +the truth. Each, however, was satisfied with the other's tact. + +"And so, Don Orsino," continued Del Ferice after a short pause, "you +wish to try a little operation in business. Yes. Very good. You have, as +we said yesterday, a sum of money ample for a beginning. You have the +necessary courage and intelligence. You need a practical assistant, +however, and it is indispensable that the point selected for the first +venture should be one promising speedy profit. Is that it?" + +"Precisely." + +"Very good, very good. I think I can offer you both the land and the +partner, and almost guarantee your success, if you will be guided by +me." + +"I have come to you for advice," said Orsino. "I will follow it +gratefully. As for the success of the undertaking, I will assume the +responsibility." + +"Yes. That is better. After all, everything is uncertain in such +matters, and you would not like to feel that you were under an +obligation to me. On the other hand, as I told you, I am selfish and +cautious. I would rather not appear in the transaction." + +If any doubt as to Del Ferice's honesty of purpose crossed Orsino's mind +at that moment, it was fully compensated by the fact that he himself +distinctly preferred not to be openly associated with the banker. + +"I quite agree with you," he said. + +"Very well. Now for business. Do you know that it is sometimes more +profitable to take over a half-finished building, than to begin a new +one? Often, I assure you, for the returns are quicker and you get a +great deal at half price. Now, the man whom I recommend to you is a +practical architect, and was employed by a certain baker to build a +tenement building in one of the new quarters. The baker dies, the house +is unfinished, the heirs wish to sell it as it is--there are at least a +dozen of them--and meanwhile the work is stopped. My advice is this. Buy +this house, go into partnership with the unemployed architect, agreeing +to give him a share of the profits, finish the building and sell it as +soon as it is habitable. In six months you will get a handsome return." + +"That sounds very tempting," answered Orsino, "but it would need more +capital than I have." + +"Not at all, not at all. It is a mere question of taking over a mortgage +and paying stamp duty." + +"And how about the difference in ready money, which ought to go to the +present owners?" + +"I see that you are already beginning to understand the principles of +business," said Del Ferice, with an encouraging smile. "But in this case +the owners are glad to get rid of the house on any terms by which they +lose nothing, for they are in mortal fear of being ruined by it, as they +probably will be if they hold on to it." + +"Then why should I not lose, if I take it?" + +"That is just the difference. The heirs are a number of incapable +persons of the lower class, who do not understand these matters. If they +attempted to go on they would soon find themselves entangled in the +greatest difficulties. They would sink where you will almost certainly +swim." + +Orsino was silent for a moment. There was something despicable, to his +thinking, in profiting by the loss of a wretched baker's heirs. + +"It seems to me," he said presently, "that if I succeed in this, I ought +to give a share of the profits to the present owners." + +Not a muscle of Del Ferice's face moved, but his dull eyes looked +curiously at Orsino's young face. + +"That sort of thing is not commonly done in business," he said quietly, +after a short pause. "As a rule, men who busy themselves with affairs do +so in the hope of growing rich, but I can quite understand that where +business is a mere pastime, as it is to be in your case, a man of +generous instincts may devote the proceeds to charity." + +"It looks more like justice than charity to me," observed Orsino. + +"Call it what you will, but succeed first and consider the uses of your +success afterwards. That is not my affair. The baker's heirs are not +especially deserving people, I believe. In fact they are said to have +hastened his death in the hope of inheriting his wealth and are +disappointed to find that they have got nothing. If you wish to be +philanthropic you might wait until you have cleared a large sum and then +give it to a school or a hospital." + +"That is true," said Orsino. "In the meantime it is important to begin." + +"We can begin to-morrow, if you please. You will find me at the bank at +mid-day. I will send for the architect and the notary and we can manage +everything in forty-eight hours. Before the week is out you can be at +work." + +"So soon as that?" + +"Certainly. Sooner, by hurrying matters a little." + +"As soon as possible then. And I will go to the bank at twelve o'clock +to-morrow. A thousand thanks for all your good offices, my dear count." + +"It is a pleasure, I assure you." + +Orsino was so much pleased with Del Ferice's quick and business-like way +of arranging matters that he began to look upon him as a model to +imitate, so far as executive ability was concerned. It was odd enough +that any one of his name should feel anything like admiration for Ugo, +but friendship and hatred are only the opposite points at which the +social pendulum pauses before it swings backward, and they who live long +may see many oscillations. + +The two men went back to the drawing-room where Donna Tullia and Maria +Consuelo were discussing the complicated views of the almighty +dressmaker. Orsino knew that there was little chance of his speaking a +word alone with Madame d'Aranjuez and resigned himself to the effort of +helping the general conversation. Fortunately the time to be got over in +this way was not long, as all four had engagements in the evening. Maria +Consuelo rose at half-past ten, but Orsino determined to wait five +minutes longer, or at least to make a show of meaning to do so. But +Donna Tullia put out her hand as though she expected him to take his +leave at the same time. She was going to a ball and wanted at least an +hour in which to screw her magnificence up to the dancing pitch. + +The consequence was that Orsino found himself helping Maria Consuelo +into the modest hired conveyance which awaited her at the gate. He hoped +that she would offer him a seat for a short distance, but he was +disappointed. + +"May I come to-morrow?" he asked, as he closed the door of the carriage. +The night was not cold and the window was down. + +"Please tell the coachman to take me to the Via Nazionale," she said +quickly. + +"What number?" + +"Never mind--he knows--I have forgotten. Good-night." + +She tried to draw up the window, but Orsino held his hand on it. + +"May I come to-morrow?" he asked again. + +"No." + +"Are you angry with me still?" + +"No." + +"Then why--" + +"Let me shut the window. Take your hand away." + +Her voice was very imperative in the dark. Orsino relinquished his hold +on the frame, and the pane ran up suddenly into its place with a +rattling noise. There was obviously nothing more to be said. + +"Via Nazionale. The Signora says you know the house," he called to the +driver. + +The man looked surprised, shrugged his shoulders after the manner of +livery stable coachmen and drove slowly off in the direction indicated. +Orsino stood looking after the carriage and a few seconds later he saw +that the man drew rein and bent down to the front window as though +asking for orders. Orsino thought he heard Maria Consuelo's voice, +answering the question, but he could not distinguish what she said, and +the brougham drove on at once without taking a new direction. + +He was curious to know whither she was going, and the idea of following +her suggested itself but he instantly dismissed it, partly because it +seemed unworthy and partly, perhaps, because he was on foot, and no cab +was passing within hail. + +Orsino was very much puzzled. During the dinner she had behaved with her +usual cordiality but as soon as they were alone she spoke and acted as +she had done in the afternoon. Orsino turned away and walked across the +deserted square. He was greatly disturbed, for he felt a sense of +humiliation and disappointment quite new to him. Young as he was, he had +been accustomed already to a degree of consideration very different from +that which Maria Consuelo thought fit to bestow, and it was certainly +the first time in his life that a door--even the door of a carriage--had +been shut in his face without ceremony. What would have been an +unpardonable insult, coming from a man, was at least an indignity when +it came from a woman. As Orsino walked along, his wrath rose, and he +wondered why he had not been angry at once. + +"Very well," he said to himself. "She says she does not want me. I will +take her at her word and I will not go to see her any more. We shall see +what happens. She will find out that I am not a child, as she was good +enough to call me to-day, and that I am not in the habit of having +windows put up in my face. I have much more serious business on hand +than making love to Madame d'Aranjuez." + +The more he reflected upon the situation, the more angry he grew, and +when he reached the door of the club he was in a humour to quarrel with +everything and everybody. Fortunately, at that early hour, the place was +in the sole possession of half a dozen old gentlemen whose conversation +diverted his thoughts though it was the very reverse of edifying. +Between the stories they told and the considerable number of cigarettes +he smoked while listening to them he was almost restored to his normal +frame of mind by midnight, when four or five of his usual companions +straggled in and proposed baccarat. After his recent successes he could +not well refuse to play, so he sat down rather reluctantly with the +rest. Oddly enough he did not lose, though he won but little. + +"Lucky at play, unlucky in love," laughed one of the men carelessly. + +"What do you mean?" asked Orsino, turning sharply upon the speaker. + +"Mean? Nothing," answered the latter in great surprise. "What is the +matter with you, Orsino? Cannot one quote a common proverb?" + +"Oh--if you meant nothing, let us go on," Orsino answered gloomily. + +As he took up the cards again, he heard a sigh behind him and turning +round saw that Spicca was standing at his shoulder. He was shocked by +the melancholy count's face, though he was used to meeting him almost +every day. The haggard and cadaverous features, the sunken and careworn +eyes, contrasted almost horribly with the freshness and gaiety of +Orsino's companions, and the brilliant light in the room threw the +man's deadly pallor into strong relief. + +"Will you play, Count?" asked Orsino, making room for him. + +"Thanks--no. I never play nowadays," answered Spicca quietly. + +He turned and left the room. With all his apparent weakness his step was +not unsteady, though it was slower than in the old days. + +"He sighed in that way because we did not quarrel," said the man whose +quoted proverb had annoyed Orsino. + +"I am ready and anxious to quarrel with everybody to-night," answered +Orsino. "Let us play baccarat--that is much better." + +Spicca left the club alone and walked slowly homewards to his small +lodging in the Via della Croce. A few dying embers smouldered in the +little fireplace which warmed his sitting-room. He stirred them slowly, +took a stick of wood from the wicker basket, hesitated a moment, and +then put it back again instead of burning it. The night was not cold and +wood was very dear. He sat down under the light of the old lamp which +stood upon the mantelpiece, and drew a long breath. But presently, +putting his hand into the pocket of his overcoat in search of his +cigarette case, he drew out something else which he had almost +forgotten, a small something wrapped in coarse paper. He undid it and +looked at the little frame of chiselled brass which Donna Tullia had +found him buying in the afternoon, turning it over and over, absently, +as though thinking of something else. + +Then he fumbled in his pockets again and found a photograph which he had +also bought in the course of the day--the photograph of Gouache's latest +portrait, obtained in a contraband fashion and with some difficulty from +the photographer. + +Without hesitation Spicca took a pocket-knife and began to cut the head +out, with that extraordinary neatness and precision which characterised +him when he used any sharp instrument. The head just fitted the frame. +He fastened it in with drops of sealing-wax and carefully burned the +rest of the picture in the embers. + +The face of Maria Consuelo smiled at him in the lamplight, as he turned +it in different ways so as to find the best aspect of it. Then he hung +it on a nail above the mantelpiece just under a pair of crossed foils. + +"That man Gouache is a very clever fellow," he said aloud. "Between +them, he and nature have made a good likeness." + +He sat down again and it was a long time before he made up his mind to +take away the lamp and go to bed. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + + +Del Ferice kept his word and arranged matters for Orsino with a speed +and skill which excited the latter's admiration. The affair was not +indeed very complicated though it involved a deed of sale, the transfer +of a mortgage and a deed of partnership between Orsino Saracinesca and +Andrea Contini, architect, under the style "Andrea Contini and Company," +besides a contract between this firm of the one party and the bank in +which Del Ferice was a director, of the other, the partners agreeing to +continue the building of the half-finished house, and the bank binding +itself to advance small sums up to a certain amount for current expenses +of material and workmen's wages. Orsino signed everything required of +him after reading the documents, and Andrea Contini followed his +example. + +The architect was a tall man with bright brown eyes, a dark and somewhat +ragged beard, close cropped hair, a prominent, bony forehead and large, +coarsely shaped, thin ears oddly set upon his head. He habitually wore a +dark overcoat, of which the collar was generally turned up on one side +and not on the other. Judging from the appearance of his strong shoes he +had always been walking a long distance over bad roads, and when it had +rained within the week his trousers were generally bespattered with mud +to a considerable height above the heel. He habitually carried an +extinguished cigar between his teeth of which he chewed the thin black +end uneasily. Orsino fancied that he might be about eight and twenty +years old, and was not altogether displeased with his appearance. He was +not at all like the majority of his kind, who, in Rome at least, usually +affect a scrupulous dandyism of attire and an uncommon refinement of +manner. Whatever Contini's faults might prove to be, Orsino did not +believe that they would turn out to be those of idleness or vanity. How +far he was right in his judgment will appear before long, but he +conceived his partner to be gifted, frank, enthusiastic and careless of +outward forms. + +As for the architect himself, he surveyed Orsino with a sort of +sympathetic curiosity which the latter would have thought unpleasantly +familiar if he had understood it. Contini had never spoken before with +any more exalted personage than Del Ferice, and he studied the young +aristocrat as though he were a being from another world. He hesitated +some time as to the proper mode of addressing him and at last decided to +call him "Signor Principe." Orsino seemed quite satisfied with this, and +the architect was inwardly pleased when the young man said "Signor +Contini" instead of Contini alone. It was quite clear that Del Ferice +had already acquainted him with all the details of the situation, for he +seemed to understand all the documents at a glance, picking out and +examining the important clauses with unfailing acuteness, and pointing +with his finger to the place where Orsino was to sign his name. + +At the end of the interview Orsino shook hands with Del Ferice and +thanked him warmly for his kindness, after which, he and his partner +went out together. They stood side by side upon the pavement for a few +seconds, each wondering what the other was going to say. + +"Perhaps we had better go and look at the house, Signor Principe," +observed Contini, in the midst of an ineffectual effort to light the +stump of his cigar. + +"I think so, too," answered Orsino, realising that since he had acquired +the property it would be as well to know how it looked. "You see I have +trusted my adviser entirely in the matter, and I am ashamed to say I do +not know where the house is." + +Andrea Contini looked at him curiously. + +"This is the first time that you have had anything to do with business +of this kind, Signor Principe," he observed. "You have fallen into good +hands." + +"Yours?" inquired Orsino, a little stiffly. + +"No. I mean that Count Del Ferice is a good adviser in this matter." + +"I hope so." + +"I am sure of it," said Contini with conviction. "It would be a great +surprise to me if we failed to make a handsome profit by this contract." + +"There is luck and ill-luck in everything," answered Orsino, signalling +to a passing cab. + +The two men exchanged few words as they drove up to the new quarter in +the direction indicated to the driver by Contini. The cab entered a sort +of broad lane, the sketch of a future street, rough with the unrolled +metalling of broken stones, the space set apart for the pavement being +an uneven path of trodden brown earth. Here and there tall detached +houses rose out of the wilderness, mostly covered by scaffoldings and +swarming with workmen, but hideous where so far finished as to be +visible in all the isolation of their six-storied nakedness. A strong +smell of lime, wet earth and damp masonry was blown into Orsino's +nostrils by the scirocco wind. Contini stopped the cab before an +unpromising and deserted erection of poles, boards and tattered +matting. + +"This is our house," he said, getting out and immediately making another +attempt to light his cigar. + +"May I offer you a cigarette?" asked Orsino, holding out his case. + +Contini touched his hat, bowed a little awkwardly and took one of the +cigarettes, which he immediately transferred to his coat pocket. + +"If you will allow me I will smoke it by and by," he said. "I have not +finished my cigar." + +Orsino stood on the slippery ground beside the stones and contemplated +his purchase. All at once his heart sank and he felt a profound disgust +for everything within the range of his vision. He was suddenly aware of +his own total and hopeless ignorance of everything connected with +building, theoretical or practical. The sight of the stiff, angular +scaffoldings, draped with torn straw mattings that flapped fantastically +in the south-east wind, the apparent absence of anything like a real +house behind them, the blades of grass sprouting abundantly about the +foot of each pole and covering the heaps of brown pozzolana earth +prepared for making mortar, even the detail of a broken wooden hod +before the boarded entrance--all these things contributed at once to +increase his dismay and to fill him with a bitter sense of inevitable +failure. He found nothing to say, as he stood with his hands in his +pockets staring at the general desolation, but he understood for the +first time why women cry for disappointment. And moreover, this +desolation was his own peculiar property, by deed of purchase, and he +could not get rid of it. + +Meanwhile Andrea Contini stood beside him, examining the scaffoldings +with his bright brown eyes, in no way disconcerted by the prospect. + +"Shall we go in?" he asked at last. + +"Do unfinished houses always look like this?" inquired Orsino, in a +hopeless tone, without noticing his companion's proposition. + +"Not always," answered Contini cheerfully. "It depends upon the amount +of work that has been done, and upon other things. Sometimes the +foundations sink and the buildings collapse." + +"Are you sure nothing of the kind has happened here?" asked Orsino with +increasing anxiety. + +"I have been several times to look at it since the baker died and I have +not noticed any cracks yet," answered the architect, whose coolness +seemed almost exasperating. + +"I suppose you understand these things, Signor Contini?" + +Contini laughed, and felt in his pockets for a crumpled paper box of +wax-lights. + +"It is my profession," he answered. "And then, I built this house from +the foundations. If you will come in, Signor Principe, I will show you +how solidly the work is done." + +He took a key from his pocket and thrust it into a hole in the boarding, +which latter proved to be a rough door and opened noisily upon rusty +hinges. Orsino followed him in silence. To the young man's inexperienced +eye the interior of the building was even more depressing than the +outside. It smelt like a vault, and a dim grey light entered the square +apertures from the curtained scaffoldings without, just sufficient to +help one to find a way through the heaps of rubbish that covered the +unpaved floors. Contini explained rapidly and concisely the arrangement +of the rooms, calling one cave familiarly a dining-room and another a +"conjugal bedroom," as he expressed it, and expatiating upon the +facilities of communication which he himself had carefully planned. +Orsino listened in silence and followed his guide patiently from place +to place, in and out of dark passages and up flights of stairs as yet +unguarded by any rail, until they emerged upon a sort of flat terrace +intersected by low walls, which was indeed another floor and above which +another story and a garret were yet to be built to complete the house. +Orsino looked gloomily about him, lighted a cigarette and sat down upon +a bit of masonry. + +"To me, it looks very like failure," he remarked. "But I suppose there +is something in it." + +"It will not look like failure next month," said Contini carelessly. +"Another story is soon built, and then the attic, and then, if you like, +a Gothic roof and a turret at one corner. That always attracts buyers +first and respectable lodgers afterwards." + +"Let us have a turret, by all means," answered Orsino, as though his +tailor had proposed to put an extra button on the cuff of his coat. "But +how in the world are you going to begin? Everything looks to me as +though it were falling to pieces." + +"Leave all that to me, Signor Principe. We will begin to-morrow. I have +a good overseer and there are plenty of workmen to be had. We have +material for a week at least, and paid for, excepting a few cartloads of +lime. Come again in ten days and you will see something worth looking +at." + +"In ten days? And what am I to do in the meantime?" asked Orsino, who +fancied that he had found an occupation. + +Andrea Contini looked at him in some surprise, not understanding in the +least what he meant. + +"I mean, am I to have nothing to do with the work?" asked Orsino. + +"Oh--as far as that goes, you will come every day, Signor Principe, if +it amuses you, though as you are not a practical architect, your +assistance is not needed until questions of taste have to be considered, +such as the Gothic roof for instance. But there are the accounts to be +kept, of course, and there is the business with the bank from week to +week, office work of various kinds. That becomes naturally your +department, as the practical superintendence of the building is mine, +but you will of course leave it to the steward of the Signor Principe di +Sant' Ilario, who is a man of affairs." + +"I will do nothing of the kind!" exclaimed Orsino. "I will do it myself. +I will learn how it is done. I want occupation." + +"What an extraordinary wish!" Andrea Contini opened his eyes in real +astonishment. + +"Is it? You work. Why should not I?" + +"I must, and you need not, Signor Principe," observed the architect. +"But if you insist, then you had better get a clerk to explain the +details to you at first." + +"Do you not understand them? Can you not teach me?" asked Orsino, +displeased with the idea of employing a third person. + +"Oh yes--I have been a clerk myself. I should be too much honoured +but--the fact is, my spare time--" + +He hesitated and seemed reluctant to explain. + +"What do you do with your spare time?" asked Orsino, suspecting some +love affair. + +"The fact is--I play a second violin at one of the theatres--and I give +lessons on the mandolin, and sometimes I do copying work for my uncle +who is a clerk in the Treasury. You see, he is old, and his eyes are not +as good as they were." + +Orsino began to think that his partner was a very odd person. He could +not help smiling at the enumeration of his architect's secondary +occupations. + +"You are very fond of music, then?" he asked. + +"Eh--yes--as one can be, without talent--a little by necessity. To be an +architect one must have houses to build. You see the baker died +unexpectedly. One must live somehow." + +"And could you not--how shall I say? Would you not be willing to give me +lessons in book-keeping instead of teaching some one else to play the +mandolin?" + +"You would not care to learn the mandolin yourself, Signor Principe? It +is a very pretty instrument, especially for country parties, as well as +for serenading." + +Orsino laughed. He did not see himself in the character of a +mandolinist. + +"I have not the slightest ear for music," he answered. "I would much +rather learn something about business." + +"It is less amusing," said Andrea Contini regretfully. + +"But I am at your service. I will come to the office when work is over +and we will do the accounts together. You will learn in that way very +quickly." + +"Thank you. I suppose we must have an office. It is necessary, is it +not?" + +"Indispensable--a room, a garret--anything. A habitation, a legal +domicile, so to say." + +"Where do you live, Signor Contini? Would not your lodging do?" + +"I am afraid not, Signor Principe. At least not for the present. I am +not very well lodged and the stairs are badly lighted." + +"Why not here, then?" asked Orsino, suddenly growing desperately +practical, for he felt unaccountably reluctant to hire an office in the +city. + +"We should pay no rent," said Contini. "It is an idea. But the walls are +dry downstairs, and we only need a pavement, and plastering, and doors +and windows, and papering and some furniture to make one of the rooms +quite habitable. It is an idea, undoubtedly. Besides, it would give the +house an air of being inhabited, which is valuable." + +"How long will all that take? A month or two?" + +"About a week. It will be a little fresh, but if you are not rheumatic, +Signor Principe, we can try it." + +"I am not rheumatic," laughed Orsino, who was pleased with the idea of +having his office on the spot, and apparently in the midst of a +wilderness. "And I suppose you really do understand architecture, Signor +Contini, though you do play the fiddle." + +In this exceedingly sketchy way was the firm of Andrea Contini and +Company established and lodged, being at the time in a very shadowy +state, theoretically and practically, though it was destined to play a +more prominent part in affairs than either of the young partners +anticipated. Orsino discovered before long that his partner was a man of +skill and energy, and his spirits rose by degrees as the work began to +advance. Contini was restless, untiring and gifted, such a character as +Orsino had not yet met in his limited experience of the world. The man +seemed to understand his business to the smallest details and could show +the workmen how to mix mortar in the right proportions, or how to +strengthen a scaffolding at the weak point much better than the overseer +or the master builder. At the books he seemed to be infallible, and he +possessed, moreover, such a power of stating things clearly and neatly +that Orsino actually learnt from him in a few weeks what he would have +needed six months to learn anywhere else. As soon as the first dread of +failure wore off, Orsino discovered that he was happier than he had ever +been in the course of his life before. What he did was not, indeed, of +much use in the progress of the office work and rather hindered than +helped Contini, who was obliged to do everything slowly and sometimes +twice over in order to make his pupil understand; but Orsino had a clear +and practical mind, and did not forget what he had learned once. An odd +sort of friendship sprang up between the two men, who under ordinary +circumstances would never have met, or known each other by sight. The +one had expected to find in his partner an overbearing, ignorant +patrician; the other had supposed that his companion would turn out a +vulgar, sordid, half-educated builder. Both were equally surprised when +each discovered the truth about the other. + +Though Orsino was reticent by nature, he took no especial pains to +conceal his goings and comings, but as his occupation took him out of +the ordinary beat followed by his idle friends, it was a long time +before any of them discovered that he was engaged in practical business. +In his own home he was not questioned, and he said nothing. The +Saracinesca were considered eccentric, but no one interfered with them +nor ventured to offer them suggestions. If they chose to allow their +heir absolute liberty of action, merely because he had passed his +twenty-first birthday, it was their own concern, and his ruin would be +upon their own heads. No one cared to risk a savage retort from the aged +prince, or a cutting answer from Sant' Ilario for the questionable +satisfaction of telling either that Orsino was going to the bad. The +only person who really knew what Orsino was about, and who could have +claimed the right to speak to his family of his doings was San Giacinto, +and he held his peace, having plenty of important affairs of his own to +occupy him and being blessed with an especial gift for leaving other +people to themselves. + +Sant' Ilario never spied upon his son, as many of his contemporaries +would have done in his place. He preferred to trust him to his own +devices so long as these led to no great mischief. He saw that Orsino +was less restless than formerly, that he was less at the club, and that +he was stirring earlier in the morning than had been his wont, and he +was well satisfied. + +It was not to be expected, however, that Orsino should take Maria +Consuelo literally at her word, and cease from visiting her all at once. +If not really in love with her, he was at least so much interested in +her that he sorely missed the daily half hour or more which he had been +used to spend in her society. + +Three several times he went to her hotel at the accustomed hour, and +each time he was told by the porter that she was at home; but on each +occasion, also, when he sent up his card, the hotel servant returned +with a message from the maid to the effect that Madame d'Aranjuez was +tired and did not receive. Orsino's pride rebelled equally against +making a further attempt and against writing a letter requesting an +explanation. Once only, when he was walking alone she passed him in a +carriage, and she acknowledged his bow quietly and naturally, as though +nothing had happened. He fancied she was paler than usual, and that +there were shadows under her eyes which he had not formerly noticed. +Possibly, he thought, she was really not in good health, and the excuses +made through her maid were not wholly invented. He was conscious that +his heart beat a little faster as he watched the back of the brougham +disappearing in the distance, but he did not feel an irresistible +longing to make another and more serious attempt to see her. He tried to +analyse his own sensations, and it seemed to him that he rather dreaded +a meeting than desired it, and that he felt a certain humiliation for +which he could not account. In the midst of his analysis, his cigarette +went out and he sighed. He was startled by such an expression of +feeling, and tried to remember whether he had ever sighed before in his +life, but if he had, he could not recall the circumstances. He tried to +console himself with the absurd supposition that he was sleepy and that +the long-drawn breath had been only a suppressed yawn. Then he walked +on, gazing before him into the purple haze that filled the deep street +just as the sun was setting, and a vague sadness and longing touched him +which had no place in his catalogue of permissible emotions and which +were as far removed from the cold cynicism which he admired in others +and affected in himself as they were beyond the sphere of his analysis. + +There is an age, not always to be fixed exactly, at which the really +masculine nature craves the society of womankind, in one shape or +another, as a necessity of existence, and by the society of womankind no +one means merely the daily and hourly social intercourse which consists +in exchanging the same set of remarks half a dozen times a day with as +many beings of gentle sex who, to the careless eye of ordinary man, +differ from each other in dress rather than in face or thought. There +are eminently manly men, that is to say men fearless, strong, honourable +and active, to whom the common five o'clock tea presents as much +distraction and offers as much womanly sympathy as they need; who choose +their intimate friends among men, rather than among women, and who die +at an advanced age without ever having been more than comfortably in +love--and of such is the Kingdom of Heaven. The masculine man may be as +brave, as strong and as scrupulously just in all his dealings, but on +the other hand he may be weak, cowardly and a cheat, and he is apt to +inherit the portion of sinners, whatever his moral characteristics may +be, good or bad. + +Orsino was certainly not unmanly, but he was also eminently masculine +and he began to suffer from the loss of Maria Consuelo's conversation in +a way that surprised himself. His acquaintance with her, to give it a +mild name, had been the first of the kind which he had enjoyed, and it +contrasted too strongly with the crude experiences of his untried youth +not to be highly valued by him and deeply regretted. He might pretend to +laugh at it, and repeat to himself that his Egeria had been but a very +superficial person, fervent in the reading of the daily novel and +possibly not even worldly wise; he did not miss her any the less for +that. A little sympathy and much patience in listening will go far to +make a woman of small gifts indispensable even to a man of superior +talent, especially when he thinks himself misunderstood in his ordinary +surroundings. The sympathy passes for intelligence and the patience for +assent and encouragement--a touch of the hand, and there is friendship, +a tear, a sigh, and devotion stands upon the stage, bearing in her arms +an infant love who learns to walk his part at the first suspicion of a +kiss. + +Orsino did not imagine that he had exhausted the world's capabilities of +happiness. The age of Byronism, as it used to be called, is over. +Possibly tragedies are more real and frequent in our day than when the +century was young; at all events those which take place seem to draw a +new element of horror from those undefinable, mechanical, prosaic, +psuedo-scientific conditions which make our lives so different from +those of our fathers. Everything is terribly sudden nowadays, and +alarmingly quick. Lovers make love across Europe by telegraph, and +poetic justice arrives in less than forty-eight hours by the Oriental +Express. Divorce is our weapon of precision, and every pack of cards at +the gaming table can distil a poison more destructive than that of the +Borgia. The unities of time and place are preserved by wire and rail in +a way which would have delighted the hearts of the old French tragics. +Perhaps men seek dramatic situations in their own lives less readily +since they have found out means of making the concluding act more swift, +sudden and inevitable. At all events we all like tragedy less and comedy +more than our fathers did, which, I think, shows that we are sadder and +possibly wiser men than they. + +However this may be, Orsino was no more inclined to fancy himself +unhappy than any of his familiar companions, though he was quite willing +to believe that he understood most of life's problems, and especially +the heart of woman. He continued to go into the world, for it was new to +him and if he did not find exactly the sort of sympathy he secretly +craved, he found at least a great deal of consideration, some flattery +and a certain amount of amusement. But when he was not actually being +amused, or really engaged in the work which he had undertaken with so +much enthusiasm, he felt lonely and missed Maria Consuelo more than +ever. By this time she had taken a position in society from which there +could be no drawing back, and he gave up for ever the hope of seeing her +in his own circle. She seemed to avoid even the grey houses where they +might have met on neutral ground, and Orsino saw that his only chance of +finding her in the world lay in going frequently and openly to Del +Ferice's house. He had called on Donna Tullia after the dinner, of +course, but he was not prepared to do more, and Del Ferice did not seem +to expect it. + +Three or four weeks after he had entered into partnership with Andrea +Contini, Orsino found himself alone with his mother in the evening. +Corona was seated near the fire in her favourite boudoir, with a book in +her hand, and Orsino stood warming himself on one side of the +chimney-piece, staring into the flames and occasionally glancing at his +mother's calm, dark face. He was debating whether he should stay at home +or not. + +Corona became conscious that he looked at her from time to time and +dropped her novel upon her knee. + +"Are you going out, Orsino?" she asked. + +"I hardly know," he answered. "There is nothing particular to do, and it +is too late for the theatre." + +"Then stay with me. Let us talk." She looked at him affectionately and +pointed to a low chair near her. + +He drew it up until he could see her face as she spoke, and then sat +down. + +"What shall we talk about, mother?" he asked, with a smile. + +"About yourself, if you like, my dear. That is, if you have anything +that you know I would like to hear. I am not curious, am I, Orsino? I +never ask you questions about yourself." + +"No, indeed. You never tease me with questions--nor does my father +either, for that matter. Would you really like to know what I am doing?" + +"If you will tell me." + +"I am building a house," said Orsino, looking at her to see the effect +of the announcement. + +"A house?" repeated Corona in surprise. "Where? Does your father know +about it?" + +"He said he did not care what I did." Orsino spoke rather bitterly. + +"That does not sound like him, my dear. Tell me all about it. Have you +quarrelled with him, or had words together?" + +Orsino told his story quickly, concisely and with a frankness he would +perhaps not have shown to any one else in the world, for he did not even +conceal his connection with Del Ferice. Corona listened intently, and +her deep eyes told him plainly enough that she was interested. On his +part he found an unexpected pleasure in telling her the tale, and he +wondered why it had never struck him that his mother might sympathise +with his plans and aspirations. When he had finished, he waited for her +first word almost as anxiously as he would have waited for an expression +of opinion from Maria Consuelo. + +Corona did not speak at once. She looked into his eyes, smiled, patted +his lean brown hand lovingly and smiled again before she spoke. + +"I like it," she said at last. "I like you to be independent and +determined. You might perhaps have chosen a better man than Del Ferice +for your adviser. He did something once--well, never mind! It was long +ago and it did us no harm." + +"What did he do, mother? I know my father wounded him in a duel before +you were married--" + +"It was not that. I would rather not tell you about it--it can do no +good, and after all, it has nothing to do with the present affair. He +would not be so foolish as to do you an injury now. I know him very +well. He is far too clever for that." + +"He is certainly clever," said Orsino. He knew that it would be quite +useless to question his mother further after what she had said. "I am +glad that you do not think I have made a mistake in going into this +business." + +"No. I do not think you have made a mistake, and I do not believe that +your father will think so either when he knows all about it." + +"He need not have been so icily discouraging," observed Orsino. + +"He is a man, my dear, and I am a woman. That is the difference. Was San +Giacinto more encouraging than he? No. They think alike, and San +Giacinto has an immense experience besides. And yet they are both wrong. +You may succeed, or you may fail--I hope you will succeed--but I do not +care much for the result. It is the principle I like, the idea, the +independence of the thing. As I grow old, I think more than I used to do +when I was young." + +"How can you talk of growing old!" exclaimed Orsino indignantly. + +"I think more," said Corona again, not heeding him. "One of my thoughts +is that our old restricted life was a mistake for us, and that to keep +it up would be a sin for you. The world used to stand still in those +days, and we stood at the head of it, or thought we did. But it is +moving now and you must move with it or you will not only have to give +up your place, but you will be left behind altogether." + +"I had no idea that you were so modern, dearest mother," laughed Orsino. +He felt suddenly very happy and in the best of humours with himself. + +"Modern--no, I do not think that either your father or I could ever be +that. If you had lived our lives you would see how impossible it is. The +most I can hope to do is to understand you and your brothers as you grow +up to be men. But I hate interference and I hate curiosity--the one +breeds opposition and the other dishonesty--and if the other boys turn +out to be as reticent as you, Orsino, I shall not always know when they +want me. You do not realise how much you have been away from me since +you were a boy, nor how silent you have grown when you are at home." + +"Am I, mother? I never meant to be." + +"I know it, dear, and I do not want you to be always confiding in me. It +is not a good thing for a young man. You are strong and the more you +rely upon yourself, the stronger you will grow. But when you want +sympathy, if you ever do, remember that I have my whole heart full of it +for you. For that, at least, come to me. No one can give you what I can +give you, dear son." + +Orsino was touched and pressed her hand, kissing it more than once. He +did not know whether in her last words she had meant any allusion to +Maria Consuelo, or whether, indeed, she had been aware of his intimacy +with the latter. But he did not ask the question of her nor of himself. +For the moment he felt that a want in his nature had been satisfied, and +he wondered again why he had never thought of confiding in his mother. + +They talked of his plans until it was late, and from that time they were +more often together than before, each growing daily more proud of the +other, though perhaps Orsino had better reasons for his pride than +Corona could have found, for the love of mother for son is more +comprehensive and not less blind than the passion of woman for man. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + + +The short Roman season was advancing rapidly to its premature fall, +which is on Ash Wednesday, after which it struggles to hold up its head +against the overwhelming odds of a severely observed Lent, to revive +only spasmodically after Easter and to die a natural death on the first +warm day. In that year, too, the fatal day fell on the fifteenth of +February, and progressive spirits talked of the possibility of fixing +the movable Feasts and Fasts of the Church in a more convenient part of +the calendar. Easter might be made to fall in June, for instance, and +society need not be informed of its inevitable and impending return to +dust and ashes until it had enjoyed a good three months, or even four, +of what an eminent American defines as "brass, sass, lies and sin." + +Rome was very gay that year, to compensate for the shortness of its +playtime. Everything was successful, and every one was rich. People +talked of millions less soberly than they had talked of thousands a few +years earlier, and with less respect than they mentioned hundreds twelve +months later. Like the vanity-struck frog, the franc blew itself up to +the bursting point, in the hope of being taken for the louis, and +momentarily succeeded, even beyond its own expectations. No one walked, +though horse-flesh was enormously dear and a good coachman's wages +amounted to just twice the salary of a government clerk. Men who, six +months earlier, had climbed ladders with loads of brick or mortar, were +now transformed into flourishing sub-contractors, and drove about in +smart pony-carts, looking the picture of Italian prosperity, rejoicing +in the most flashy of ties and smoking the blackest and longest of long +black cigars. During twenty hours out of the twenty-four the gates of +the city roared with traffic. From all parts of the country labourers +poured in, bundle in hand and tools on shoulder to join in the enormous +work and earn their share of the pay that was distributed so liberally. +A certain man who believed in himself stood up and said that Rome was +becoming one of the greatest of cities, and he smacked his lips and said +that he had done it, and that the Triple Alliance was a goose which +would lay many golden eggs. The believing bulls roared everything away +before them, opposition, objections, financial experience, and the +vanquished bears hibernated in secret places, sucking their paws and +wondering what, in the name of Ursa Major and Ursa Minor, would happen +next. Distinguished men wrote pamphlets in the most distinguished +language to prove that wealth was a baby capable of being hatched +artificially and brought up by hand. Every unmarried swain who could +find a bride, married her forthwith; those who could not followed the +advice of an illustrious poet and, being over-anxious to take wives, +took those of others. Everybody was decorated. It positively rained +decorations and hailed grand crosses and enough commanders' ribbons were +reeled out to have hanged half the population. The periodical attempt to +revive the defunct carnival in the Corso was made, and the yet unburied +corpse of ancient gaiety was taken out and painted, and gorgeously +arrayed, and propped up in its seat to be a posthumous terror to its +enemies, like the dead Cid. Society danced frantically and did all those +things which it ought not to have done--and added a few more, +unconsciously imitating Pico della Mirandola. + +Even those comparatively few families who, like the Saracinesca, had +scornfully declined to dabble in the whirlpool of affairs, did not by +any means refuse to dance to the music of success which filled the city +with, such enchanting strains. The Princess Befana rose from her +deathbed with more than usual vivacity and went to the length of opening +her palace on two evenings in two successive weeks, to the intense +delight of her gay and youthful heirs, who earnestly hoped that the +excitement might kill her at last, and kill her beyond resurrection this +time. But they were disappointed. She still dies periodically in winter +and blooms out again in spring with the poppies, affording a perpetual +and edifying illustration of the changes of the year, or, as some say, +of the doctrine of immortality. On one of those memorable occasions she +walked through a quadrille with the aged Prince Saracinesca, whereupon +Sant' Ilario slipped his arm round Corona's waist and waltzed with her +down the whole length of the ballroom and back again amidst the applause +of his contemporaries and their children. If Orsino had had a wife he +would have followed their example. As it was, he looked rather gloomily +in the direction of a silent and high-born damsel with whom he was +condemned to dance the cotillon at a later hour. + +So all went gaily on until Ash Wednesday extinguished the social flame, +suddenly and beyond relighting. And still Orsino did not meet Maria +Consuelo, and still he hesitated to make another attempt to find her at +home. He began to wonder whether he should ever see her again, and as +the days went by he almost wished that Donna Tullia would send him a +card for her lenten evenings, at which Maria Consuelo regularly assisted +as he learned from the papers. After that first invitation to dinner, he +had expected that Del Ferice's wife would make an attempt to draw him +into her circle; and, indeed, she would probably have done so had she +followed her own instinct instead of submitting to the higher policy +dictated by her husband. Orsino waited in vain, not knowing whether to +be annoyed at the lack of consideration bestowed upon him, or to admire +the tact which assumed that he would never wish to enter the Del Ferice +circle. + +It is presumably clear that Orsino was not in love with Madame +d'Aranjuez, and he himself appreciated the fact with a sense of +disappointment. He was amazed at his own coldness and at the +indifference with which he had submitted to what amounted to a most +abrupt dismissal. He even went so far as to believe that Maria Consuelo +had repulsed him designedly in the hope of kindling a more sincere +passion. In that case she had been egregiously mistaken, he thought. He +felt a curiosity to see her again before she left Rome, but it was +nothing more than that. A new and absorbing interest had taken +possession of him which at first left little room in his nature for +anything else. His days were spent in the laborious study of figures and +plans, broken only by occasional short but amusing conversations with +Andrea Contini. His evenings were generally passed among a set of people +who did not know Maria Consuelo except by sight and who had long ceased +to ask him questions about her. Of late, too, he had missed his daily +visits to her less and less, until he hardly regretted them at all, nor +so much as thought of the possibility of renewing them. He laughed at +the idea that his mother should have taken the place of a woman whom he +had begun to love, and yet he was conscious that it was so, though he +asked himself how long such a condition of things could last. Corona was +far too wise to discuss his affairs with his father. He was too like +herself for her to misunderstand him, and if she regarded the whole +matter as perfectly harmless and as a legitimate subject for general +conversation, she yet understood perfectly that having been once +rebuffed by Sant' Ilario, Orsino must wish to be fully successful in his +attempt before mentioning it again to the latter. And she felt so +strongly in sympathy with her son that his work gradually acquired an +intense interest for her, and she would have sacrificed much rather +than see it fail. She did not on that account blame Giovanni for his +discouraging view when Orsino had consulted him. Giovanni was the +passion of her life and was not fallible in his impulses, though his +judgment might sometimes be at fault in technical matters for which he +cared nothing. But her love for her son was as great and sincere in its +own way, and her pride in him was such as to make his success a +condition of her future happiness. + +One of the greatest novelists of this age begins one of his greatest +novels with the remark that "all happy families resemble each other, but +that every unhappy family is unhappy in its own especial way." +Generalities are dangerous in proportion as they are witty or striking, +or both, and it may be asked whether the great Tolstoi has not fallen a +victim to his own extraordinary power of striking and witty +generalisations. Does the greatest of all his generalisations, the wide +disclaimer of his early opinions expressed in the postscript +subsequently attached by him to his _Kreutzer Sonata_, include also the +words I have quoted, and which were set up, so to say, as the theme of +his _Anna Karjenina_? One may almost hope so. I am no critic, but those +words somehow seem to me to mean that only unhappiness can be +interesting. It is not pleasant to think of the consequences to which +the acceptance of such a statement might lead. + +There are no statistics to tell us whether the majority of living men +and women are to be considered as happy or unhappy. But it does seem +true that whereas a single circumstance can cause very great and lasting +unhappiness, felicity is always dependent upon more than one condition +and often upon so many as to make the explanation of it a highly +difficult and complicated matter. + +Corona had assuredly little reason to complain of her lot during the +past twenty years, but unruffled and perfect as it had seemed to her she +began to see that there were sources of sorrow and satisfaction before +her which had not yet poured their bitter or sweet streams into the +stately river of her mature life. The new interest which Orsino had +created for her became more and more absorbing, and she watched it and +tended it, and longed to see it grow to greater proportions. The +situation was strange in one way at least. Orsino was working and his +mother was helping him to work in the hope of a financial success which +neither of them wanted or cared for. Possibly the certainty that failure +could entail no serious consequences made the game a more amusing if a +less exciting one to play. + +"If I lose," said Orsino to her, "I can only lose the few thousands I +invested. If I win, I will give you a string of pearls as a keepsake." + +"If you lose, dear boy," answered Corona, "it must be because you had +not enough to begin with. I will give you as much as you need, and we +will try again." + +They laughed happily together. Whatever chanced, things must turn out +well. Orsino worked very hard, and Corona was very rich in her own right +and could afford to help to any extent she thought necessary. She could, +indeed, have taken the part of the bank and advanced him all the money +he needed, but it seemed useless to interfere with the existing +arrangements. + +In Lent the house had reached an important point in its existence. +Andrea Contini had completed the Gothic roof and the turret which +appeared to him in the first vision of his dream, but to which the +defunct baker had made objections on the score of expense. The masons +were almost all gone and another set of workmen were busy with finer +tools moulding cornices and laying on the snow-white stucco. Within, the +joiners and carpenters kept up a ceaseless hammering. + +One day Andrea Contini walked into the office after a tour of +inspection, with a whole cigar, unlighted and intact, between his teeth. +Orsino was well aware from this circumstance that something unusually +fortunate had happened or was about to happen, and he rose from his +books, as soon as he recognised the fair-weather signal. + +"We can sell the house whenever we like," said the architect, his bright +brown eyes sparkling with satisfaction. + +"Already!" exclaimed Orsino who, though equally delighted at the +prospect of such speedy success, regretted in his heart the damp walls +and the constant stir of work which he had learned to like so well. + +"Already--yes. One needs luck like ours! The count has sent a man up in +a cab to say that an acquaintance of his will come and look at the +building to-day between twelve and one with a view to buying. The sooner +we look out for some fresh undertaking, the better. What do you say, Don +Orsino?" + +"It is all your doing, Contini. Without you I should still be standing +outside and watching the mattings flapping in the wind, as I did on that +never-to-be-forgotten first day." + +"I conceive that a house cannot be built without an architect," answered +Contini, laughing, "and it has always been plain to me that there can be +no architects without houses to build. But as for any especial credit to +me, I refute the charge indignantly. I except the matter of the turret, +which is evidently what has attracted the buyer. I always thought it +would. You would never have thought of a turret, would you, Don Orsino?" + +"Certainly not, nor of many other things," answered Orsino, laughing. +"But I am sorry to leave the place. I have grown into liking it." + +"What can one do? It is the way of the world--'lieto ricordo d'un amor +che fu,'" sang Contini in the thin but expressive falsetto which seems +to be the natural inheritance of men who play upon stringed instruments. +He broke off in the middle of a bar and laughed, out of sheer delight at +his own good fortune. + +In due time the purchaser came, saw and actually bought. He was a +problematic personage with a disquieting nose, who spoke few words but +examined everything with an air of superior comprehension. He looked +keenly at Orsino but seemed to have no idea who he was and put all his +questions to Contini. + +After agreeing to the purchase he inquired whether Andrea Contini and +Company had any other houses of the same description building and if so +where they were situated, adding that he liked the firm's way of doing +things. He stipulated for one or two slight improvements, made an +appointment for a meeting with the notaries on the following day and +went off with a rather unceremonious nod to the partners. The name he +left was that of a well-known capitalist from the south, and Contini was +inclined to think he had seen him before, but was not certain. + +Within a week the business was concluded, the buyer took over the +mortgage as Orsino and Contini had done and paid the difference in cash +into the bank, which deducted the amounts due on notes of hand before +handing the remainder to the two young men. The buyer also kept back a +small part of the purchase money to be paid on taking possession, when +the house was to be entirely finished. Andrea Contini and Company had +realised a considerable sum of money. + +"The question is, what to do next," said Orsino thoughtfully. + +"We had better look about us for something promising," said his partner. +"A corner lot in this same quarter. Corner houses are more interesting +to build and people like them to live in because they can see two or +three ways at once. Besides, a corner is always a good place for a +turret. Let us take a walk--smoking and strolling, we shall find +something." + +"A year ago, no doubt," answered Orsino, who was becoming worldly wise. +"A year ago that would have been well enough. But listen to me. That +house opposite to ours has been finished some time, yet nobody has +bought it. What is the reason?" + +"It faces north and not south, as ours does, and it has not a Gothic +roof." + +"My dear Contini, I do not mean to say that the Gothic roof has not +helped us very much, but it cannot have helped us alone. How about those +two houses together at the end of the next block. Balconies, travertine +columns, superior doors and windows, spaces for hydraulic lifts and all +the rest of it. Yet no one buys. Dry, too, and almost ready to live in, +and all the joinery of pitch pine. There is a reason for their ill +luck." + +"What do you think it is?" asked Contini, opening his eyes. + +"The land on which they are built was not in the hands of Del Ferice's +bank, and the money that built them was not advanced by Del Ferice's +bank, and Del Ferice's bank has no interest in selling the houses +themselves. Therefore they are not sold." + +"But surely there are other banks in Rome, and private individuals--" + +"No, I do not believe that there are," said Orsino with conviction. "My +cousin of San Giacinto thinks that the selling days are over, and I +fancy he is right, except about Del Ferice, who is cleverer than any of +us. We had better not deceive ourselves, Contini. Del Ferice sold our +house for us, and unless we keep with him we shall not sell another so +easily. His bank has a lot of half-finished houses on its hands secured +by mortgages which are worthless until the houses are habitable. Del +Ferice wants us to finish those houses for him, in order to recover +their value. If we do it, we shall make a profit. If we attempt anything +on our own account we shall fail. Am I right or not?" + +"What can I say? At all events you are on the safe side. But why has not +the count given all this work to some old established firm of his +acquaintance?" + +"Because he cannot trust any one as he can trust us, and he knows it." + +"Of course I owe the count a great deal for his kindness in introducing +me to you. He knew all about me before the baker died, and afterwards I +waited for him outside the Chambers one evening and asked him if he +could find anything for me to do, but he did not give me much +encouragement. I saw you speak to him and get into his carriage--was it +not you?" + +"Yes--it was I," answered Orsino, remembering the tall man in an +overcoat who had disappeared in the dusk on the evening when he himself +had first sought Del Ferice. "Yes, and you see we are both under a sort +of obligation to him which is another reason for taking his advice." + +"Obligations are humiliating!" exclaimed Contini impatiently. "We have +succeeded in increasing our capital--your capital, Don Orsino--let us +strike out for ourselves." + +"I think my reasons are good," said Orsino quietly. "And as for +obligations, let us remember that we are men of business." + +It appears from this that the low-born Andrea Contini and the high and +mighty Don Orsino Saracinesca were not very far from exchanging places +so far as prejudice was concerned. Contini noticed the fact and smiled. + +"After all," he said, "if you can accept the situation, I ought to +accept it, too." + +"It is a matter of business," said Orsino, returning to his argument. +"There is no such thing as obligation where money is borrowed on good +security and a large interest is regularly paid." + +It was clear that Orsino was developing commercial instincts. His +grandfather would have died of rage on the spot if he could have +listened to the young fellow's cool utterances. But Contini was not +pleased and would not abandon his position so easily. + +"It is very well for you, Don Orsino," he said, vainly attempting to +light his cigar. "You do not need the money as I do. You take it from +Del Ferice because it amuses you to do so, not because you are obliged +to accept it. That is the difference. The count knows It too, and knows +that he is not conferring a favour but receiving one. You do him an +honour in borrowing his money. He lays me under an obligation in lending +it." + +"We must get money somewhere," answered Orsino with indifference. "If +not from Del Ferice, then from some other bank. And as for obligations, +as you call them, he is not the bank himself, and the bank does not lend +its money in order to amuse me or to humiliate you, my friend. But if +you insist, I shall say that the convenience is not on one side only. If +Del Ferice supports us it is because we serve his interests. If he has +done us a good turn, it is a reason why we should do him one, and build +his houses rather than those of other people. You talk about my +conferring a favour upon him. Where will he find another Andrea Contini +and Company to make worthless property valuable for him? In that sense +you and I are earning his gratitude, by the simple process of being +scrupulously honest. I do not feel in the least humiliated, I assure +you." + +"I cannot help it," replied Contini, biting his cigar savagely. "I have +a heart, and it beats with good blood. Do you know that there is blood +of Cola di Rienzo in my veins?" + +"No. You never told me," answered Orsino, one of whose forefathers had +been concerned in the murder of the tribune, a fact to which he thought +it best not to refer at the present moment. + +"And the blood of Cola di Rienzo burns under the shame of an +obligation!" cried Contini, with a heat hardly warranted by the +circumstances. "It is humiliating, it is base, to submit to be the tool +of a Del Ferice--we all know who and what Del Ferice was, and how he +came by his title of count, and how he got his fortune--a spy, an +intriguer! In a good cause? Perhaps. I was not born then, nor you +either, Signor Principe, and we do not know what the world was like, +when it was quite another world. That is not a reason for serving a +spy!" + +"Calm yourself, my friend. We are not in Del Ferice's service." + +"Better to die than that! Better to kill him at once and go to the +galleys for a few years! Better to play the fiddle, or pick rags, or beg +in the streets than that, Signor Principe. One must respect oneself. You +see it yourself. One must be a man, and feel as a man. One must feel +those things here, Signor Principe, here in the heart!" + +Contini struck his breast with his clenched fist and bit the end of his +cigar quite through in his anger. Then he suddenly seized his hat and +rushed out of the room. + +Orsino was less surprised at the outburst than might have been expected, +and did not attach any great weight to his partner's dramatic rage. But +he lit a cigarette and carefully thought over the situation, trying to +find out whether there were really any ground for Contini's first +remarks. He was perfectly well aware that as Orsino Saracinesca he would +cut his own throat with enthusiasm rather than borrow a louis of Ugo Del +Ferice. But as Andrea Contini and Company he was another person, and so +Del Ferice was not Count Del Ferice, nor the Onorevole Del Ferice, but +simply a director in a bank with which he had business. If the interests +of Andrea Contini and Company were identical with those of the bank, +there was no reason whatever for interrupting relations both amicable +and profitable, merely because one member of the firm claimed to be +descended from Cola di Bienzo, a defunct personage in whom Orsino felt +no interest whatever. Andrea Contini, considering his social relations, +might be on terms of friendship with his hatter, for instance, or might +have personal reasons for disliking him. In neither case could the +buying of a hat from that individual be looked upon as an obligation +conferred or received by either party. This was quite clear, and Orsino +was satisfied. + +"Business is business," he said to himself, "and people who introduce +personal considerations into a financial transaction will get the worst +of the bargain." + +Andrea Contini was apparently of the same opinion, for when he entered +the room again at the end of an hour his excitement had quite +disappeared. + +"If we take another contract from the count," he said, "is there any +reason why we should not take a larger one, if it is to be had? We could +manage three or four buildings now that you have become such a good +bookkeeper." + +"I am quite of your opinion," Orsino answered, deciding at once to make +no reference to what had gone before. + +"The only question is, whether we have capital enough for a margin." + +"Leave that to me." + +Orsino determined to consult his mother, in whose judgment he felt a +confidence which he could not explain but which was not misplaced. The +fact was simple enough. Corona understood him thoroughly, though her +comprehension of his business was more than limited, and she did nothing +in reality but encourage his own sober opinion when it happened to be at +variance with some enthusiastic inclination which momentarily deluded +him. That quiet pushing of a man's own better reason against his half +considered but often headstrong impulses, is after all one of the best +and most loving services which a wise woman can render to a man whom she +loves, be he husband, son or brother. Many women have no other secret, +and indeed there are few more valuable ones, if well used and well kept. +But let not graceless man discover that it is used upon him. He will +resent being led by his own reason far more than being made the +senseless slave of a foolish woman's wildest caprice. To select the best +of himself for his own use is to trample upon his free will. To send him +barefoot to Jericho in search of a dried flower is to appeal to his +heart. Man is a reasoning animal. + +Corona, as was to be expected, was triumphant in Orsino's first success, +and spent as much time in talking over the past and the future with him +as she could command during his own hours of liberty. He needed no +urging to continue in the same course, but he enjoyed her happiness and +delighted in her encouragement. + +"Contini wishes to take a large contract," he said to her, after the +interview last described. "I agree with him, in a way. We could +certainly manage a larger business." + +"No doubt," Corona answered thoughtfully, for she saw that there was +some objection to the scheme in his own mind. + +"I have learned a great deal," he continued, "and we have much more +capital than we had. Besides, I suppose you would lend me a few +thousands if we needed them, would you not, mother?" + +"Certainly, my dear. You shall not be hampered by want of money." + +"And then, it is possible that we might make something like a fortune in +a short time. It would be a great satisfaction. But then, too--" He +stopped. + +"What then?" asked Corona, smiling. + +"Things may turn out differently. Though I have been successful this +time, I am much more inclined to believe that San Giacinto was right +than I was before I began. All this movement does not rest on a solid +basis." + +A financier of thirty years' standing could not have made the statement +more impressively, and Orsino was conscious that he was assuming an +elderly tone. He laughed the next moment. + +"That is a stock phrase, mother," he continued. "But it means something. +Everything is not what it should be. If the demand were as great as +people say it is, there would not be half a dozen houses--better houses +than ours--unsold in our street. That is why I am afraid of a big +contract. I might lose all my money and some of yours." + +"It would not be of much consequence if you did," answered Corona. "But +of course you will be guided by your own judgment, which, is much +better than mine. One must risk something, of course, but there is no +use in going into danger." + +"Nevertheless, I should enjoy a big venture immensely." + +"There is no reason why you should not try one, when the moment comes, +my dear. I suppose that a few months will decide whether there is to be +a crisis or not. In the meantime you might take something moderate, +neither so small as the last, nor so large as you would like. You will +get more experience, risk less and be better prepared for a crash if it +comes, or to take advantage of anything favourable if business grows +safer." + +Orsino was silent for a moment. + +"You are very wise, mother," he said. "I will take your advice." + +Corona had indeed acted as wisely as she could. The only flaw in her +reasoning was her assertion that a few months would decide the fate of +Roman affairs. If it were possible to predict a crisis even within a few +months, speculation would be a less precarious business than it is. + +Orsino and his mother might have talked longer and perhaps to better +purpose, but they were interrupted by the entrance of a servant, bearing +a note. Corona instinctively put out her hand to receive it. + +"For Don Orsino," said the man, stopping before him. + +Orsino took the letter, looked at it and turned it over. + +"I think it is from Madame d'Aranjuez," he remarked, without emotion. +"May I read it?" + +"There is no answer, Eccellenza," said the servant, whose curiosity was +satisfied. + +"Read it, of course," said Corona, looking at him. + +She was surprised that Madame d'Aranjuez should write to him, but she +was still more astonished to see the indifference with which he opened +the missive. She had imagined that he was more or less in love with +Maria Consuelo. + +"I fancy it is the other way," she thought. "The woman wants to marry +him. I might have suspected it." + +Orsino read the note, and tossed it into the fire without volunteering +any information. + +"I will take your advice, mother," he said, continuing the former +conversation, as though nothing had happened. + +But the subject seemed to be exhausted, and before long Orsino made an +excuse to his mother and went out. + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + + +There was nothing in the note burnt by Orsino which he might not have +shown to his mother, since he had already told her the name of the +writer. It contained the simple statement that Maria Consuelo was about +to leave Rome, and expressed the hope that she might see Orsino before +her departure as she had a small request to make of him, in the nature +of a commission. She hoped he would forgive her for putting him to so +much inconvenience. + +Though he betrayed no emotion in reading the few lines, he was in +reality annoyed by them, and he wished that he might be prevented from +obeying the summons. Maria Consuelo had virtually dropped the +acquaintance, and had refused repeatedly and in a marked way to receive +him. And now, at the last moment, when she needed something of him, she +chose to recall him by a direct invitation. There was nothing to be done +but to yield, and it was characteristic of Orsino that, having submitted +to necessity, he did not put off the inevitable moment, but went to her +at once. + +The days were longer now than they had been during the time when he had +visited her every day, and the lamp was not yet on the table when Orsino +entered the small sitting-room. Maria Consuelo was standing by the +window, looking out into the street, and her right hand rested against +the pane while her fingers tapped it softly but impatiently. She turned +quickly as he entered, but the light was behind her and he could hardly +see her face. She came towards him and held out her hand. + +"It is very kind of you to have come so soon," she said, as she took her +old accustomed place by the table. + +Nothing was changed, excepting that the two or three new books at her +elbow were not the same ones which had been there two months earlier. In +one of them was thrust the silver paper-cutter with the jewelled handle, +which Orsino had never missed. He wondered whether there were any reason +for the unvarying sameness of these details. + +"Of course I came," he said. "And as there was time to-day, I came at +once." + +He spoke rather coldly, still resenting her former behaviour and +expecting that she would immediately say what she wanted of him. He +would promise to execute the commission, whatever it might be, and after +ten minutes of conversation he would take his leave. There was a short +pause, during which he looked at her. She did not seem well. Her face +was pale and her eyes were deep with shadows. Even her auburn hair had +lost something of its gloss. Yet she did not look older than before, a +fact which proved her to be even younger than Orsino had imagined. +Saving the look of fatigue and suffering in her face, Maria Consuelo had +changed less than Orsino during the winter, and she realised the fact at +a glance. A determined purpose, hard work, the constant exertion of +energy and will, and possibly, too, the giving up to a great extent of +gambling and strong drinks, had told in Orsino's face and manner as a +course of training tells upon a lazy athlete. The bold black eyes had a +more quiet glance, the well-marked features had acquired strength and +repose, the lean jaw was firmer and seemed more square. Even +physically, Orsino had improved, though the change was undefinable. +Young as he was, something of the power of mature manhood was already +coming over his youth. + +"You must have thought me very--rude," said Maria Consuelo, breaking the +silence and speaking with a slight hesitation which Orsino had never +noticed before. + +"It is not for me to complain, Madame," he answered. "You had every +right--" + +He stopped short, for he was reluctant to admit that she had been +justified in her behaviour towards him. + +"Thanks," she said, with an attempt to laugh. "It is pleasant to find +magnanimous people now and then. I do not want you to think that I was +capricious. That is all." + +"I certainly do not think that. You were most consistent. I called three +times and always got the same answer." + +He fancied that he heard her sigh, but she tried to laugh again. + +"I am not imaginative," she answered. "I daresay you found that out long +go. You have much more imagination than I." + +"It is possible, Madame--but you have not cared to develop it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"What does it matter? Do you remember what you said when I bade you +good-night at the window of your carriage after Del Ferice's dinner? You +said that you were not angry with me. I was foolish enough to imagine +that you were in earnest. I came again and again, but you would not see +me. You did not encourage my illusion." + +"Because I would not receive you? How do you know what happened to me? +How can you judge of my life? By your own? There is a vast difference." + +"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Orsino almost impatiently. "I know what you are +going to say. It will be flattering to me of course. The unattached +young man is dangerous to the reputation. The foreign lady is travelling +alone. There is the foundation of a vaudeville in that!" + +"If you must be unjust, at least do not be brutal," said Maria Consuelo +in a low voice, and she turned her face away from him. + +"I am evidently placed in the world to offend you, Madame. Will you +believe that I am sorry for it, though I only dimly comprehend my fault? +What did I say? That you were wise in breaking off my visits, because +you are alone here, and because I am young, unmarried and unfortunately +a little conspicuous in my native city. Is it brutal to suggest that a +young and beautiful woman has a right not to be compromised? Can we not +talk freely for half an hour, as we used to talk, and then say good-bye +and part good friends until you come to Rome again?" + +"I wish we could!" There was an accent of sincerity in the tone which +pleased Orsino. + +"Then begin by forgiving me all my sins, and put them down to ignorance, +want of tact, the inexperience of youth or a naturally weak +understanding. But do not call me brutal on such slight provocation." + +"We shall never agree for a long time," answered Maria Consuelo +thoughtfully. + +"Why not?" + +"Because, as I told you, there is too great a difference between our +lives. Do not answer me as you did before, for I am right. I began by +admitting that I was rude. If that is not enough I will say more--I will +even ask you to forgive me--can I do more?" + +She spoke so earnestly that Orsino was surprised and almost touched. Her +manner now was even less comprehensible than her repeated refusals to +see him had been. + +"You have done far too much already," he said gravely. "It is mine to +ask your forgiveness for much that I have done and said. I only wish +that I understood you better." + +"I am glad you do not," replied Maria Consuelo, with a sigh which this +time was not to be mistaken. "There is a sadness which it is better not +to understand," she added softly. + +"Unless one can help to drive it away." He, too, spoke gently, his voice +being attracted to the pitch and tone of hers. + +"You cannot do that--and if you could, you would not." + +"Who can tell?" + +The charm which he had formerly felt so keenly in her presence but which +he had of late so completely forgotten, was beginning to return and he +submitted to it with a sense of satisfaction which he had not +anticipated. Though the twilight was coming on, his eyes had become +accustomed to the dimness in the room and he saw every change in her +pale, expressive face. She leaned back in her chair with eyes half +closed. + +"I like to think that you would, if you knew how," she said presently. + +"Do you not know that I would?" + +She glanced quickly at him, and then, instead of answering, rose from +her seat and called to her maid through one of the doors, telling her to +bring the lamp. She sat down again, but being conscious that they were +liable to interruption, neither of the two spoke. Maria Consuelo's +fingers played with the silver knife, drawing it out of the book in +which it lay and pushing it back again. At last she took it up and +looked closely at the jewelled monogram on the handle. + +The maid entered, set the shaded lamp upon the table and glanced sharply +at Orsino. He could not help noticing the look. In a moment she was +gone, and the door closed behind her. Maria Consuelo looked over her +shoulder to see that it had not been left ajar. + +"She is a very extraordinary person, that elderly maid of mine," she +said. + +"So I should imagine from her face." + +"Yes. She looked at you as she passed and I saw that you noticed it. She +is my protector. I never have travelled without her and she watches over +me--as a cat watches a mouse." + +The little laugh that accompanied the words was not one of satisfaction, +and the shade of annoyance did not escape Orsino. + +"I suppose she is one of those people to whose ways one submits because +one cannot live without them," he observed. + +"Yes. That is it. That is exactly it," repeated Maria Consuelo. "And she +is very strongly attached to me," she added after an instant's +hesitation. "I do not think she will ever leave me. In fact we are +attached to each other." + +She laughed again as though amused by her own way of stating the +relation, and drew the paper-cutter through her hand two or three times. +Orsino's eyes were oddly fascinated by the flash of the jewels. + +"I would like to know the history of that knife," he said, almost +thoughtlessly. + +Maria Consuelo started and looked at him, paler even than before. The +question seemed to be a very unexpected one. + +"Why?" she asked quickly. + +"I always see it on the table or in your hand," answered Orsino. "It is +associated with you--I think of it when I think of you. I always fancy +that it has a story." + +"You are right. It was given to me by a person who loved me." + +"I see--I was indiscreet." + +"No--you do not see, my friend. If you did you--you would understand +many things, and perhaps it is better that you should not know them." + +"Your sadness? Should I understand that, too?" + +"No. Not that." + +A slight colour rose in her face, and she stretched out her hand to +arrange the shade of the lamp, with a gesture long familiar to him. + +"We shall end by misunderstanding each other," she continued in a harder +tone. "Perhaps it will be my fault. I wish you knew much more about me +than you do, but without the necessity of telling you the story. But +that is impossible. This paper-cutter--for instance, could tell the tale +better than I, for it made people see things which I did not see." + +"After it was yours?" + +"Yes. After it was mine." + +"It pleases you to be very mysterious," said Orsino with a smile. + +"Oh no! It does not please me at all," she answered, turning her face +away again. "And least of all with you--my friend." + +"Why least with me?" + +"Because you are the first to misunderstand. You cannot help it. I do +not blame you." + +"If you would let me be your friend, as you call me, it would be better +for us both." + +He spoke as he had assuredly not meant to speak when he had entered the +room, and with a feeling that surprised himself far more than his +hearer. Maria Consuelo turned sharply upon him. + +"Have you acted like a friend towards me?" she asked. + +"I have tried to," he answered, with more presence of mind than truth. + +Her tawny eyes suddenly lightened. + +"That is not true. Be truthful! How have you acted, how have you spoken +with me? Are you ashamed to answer?" + +Orsino raised his head rather haughtily, and met her glance, wondering +whether any man had ever been forced into such a strange position +before. But though her eyes were bright, their look was neither cold nor +defiant. + +"You know the answer," he said. "I spoke and acted as though I loved +you, Madame, but since you dismissed me so very summarily, I do not see +why you wish me to say so." + +"And you, Don Orsino, have you ever been loved--loved in earnest--by any +woman?" + +"That is a very strange question, Madame." + +"I am discreet. You may answer it safely." + +"I have no doubt of that." + +"But you will not? No--that is your right. But it would be kind of +you--I should be grateful if you would tell me--has any woman ever loved +you dearly?" + +Orsino laughed, almost in spite of himself. He had little false pride. + +"It is humiliating, Madame. But since you ask the question and require a +categorical answer, I will make my confession. I have never been loved. +But you will observe, as an extenuating circumstance, that I am young. I +do not give up all hope." + +"No--you need not," said Maria Consuelo in a low voice, and again she +moved the shade of the lamp. + +Though Orsino was by no means fatuous, he must have been blind if he had +not seen by this time that Madame d'Aranjuez was doing her best to make +him speak as he had formerly spoken to her, and to force him into a +declaration of love. He saw it, indeed, and wondered; but although he +felt her charm upon him, from time to time, he resolved that nothing +should induce him to relax even so far as he had done already more than +once during the interview. She had placed him in a foolish position once +before, and he would not expose himself to being made ridiculous again, +in her eyes or his. He could not discover what intention she had in +trying to lead him back to her, but he attributed it to her vanity. She +regretted, perhaps, having rebuked him so soon, or perhaps she had +imagined that he would have made further and more determined efforts to +see her. Possibly, too, she really wished to ask a service of him, and +wished to assure herself that she could depend upon him by previously +extracting an avowal of his devotion. It was clear that one of the two +had mistaken the other's character or mood, though it was impossible to +say which was the one deceived. + +The silence which followed lasted some time, and threatened to become +awkward. Maria Consuelo could not or would not speak and Orsino did not +know what to say. He thought of inquiring what the commission might be +with which, according to her note, she had wished to entrust him. But an +instant's reflection told him that the question would be tactless. If +she had invented the idea as an excuse for seeing him, to mention it +would be to force her hand, as card-players say, and he had no intention +of doing that. Even if she really had something to ask of him, he had no +right to change the subject so suddenly. He bethought him of a better +question. + +"You wrote me that you were going away," he said quietly. "But you will +come back next winter, will you not, Madame?" + +"I do not know," she answered, vaguely. Then she started a little, as +though understanding his words. "What am I saying!" she exclaimed. "Of +course I shall come back." + +"Have you been drinking from the Trevi fountain by moonlight, like those +mad English?" he asked, with a smile. + +"It is not necessary. I know that I shall come back--if I am alive." + +"How you say that! You are as strong as I--" + +"Stronger, perhaps. But then--who knows! The weak ones sometimes last +the longest." + +Orsino thought she was growing very sentimental, though as he looked at +her he was struck again by the look of suffering in her eyes. Whatever +weakness she felt was visible there, there was nothing in the full, firm +little hand, in the strong and easy pose of the head, in the softly +coloured ear half hidden by her hair, that could suggest a coming danger +to her splendid health. + +"Let us take it for granted that you will come back to us," said Orsino +cheerfully. + +"Very well, we will take it for granted. What then?" + +The question was so sudden and direct that Orsino fancied there ought to +be an evident answer to it. + +"What then?" he repeated, after a moment's hesitation. "I suppose you +will live in these same rooms again, and with your permission, a certain +Orsino Saracinesca will visit you from time to time, and be rude, and be +sent away into exile for his sins. And Madame d'Aranjuez will go a great +deal to Madame Del Ferice's and to other ultra-White houses, which will +prevent the said Orsino from meeting her in society. She will also be +more beautiful than ever, and the daily papers will describe a certain +number of gowns which she will bring with her from Paris, or Vienna, or +London, or whatever great capital is the chosen official residence of +her great dressmaker. And the world will not otherwise change very +materially in the course of eight months." + +Orsino laughed lightly, not at his own speech, which he had constructed +rather clumsily under the spur of necessity, but in the hope that she +would laugh, too, and begin to talk more carelessly. But Maria Consuelo +was evidently not inclined for anything but the most serious view of the +world, past, present and future. + +"Yes," she answered gravely. "I daresay you are right. One comes, one +shows one's clothes, and one goes away again--and that is all. It would +be very much the same if one did not come. It is a great mistake to +think oneself necessary to any one. Only things are necessary--food, +money and something to talk about." + +"You might add friends to the list," said Orsino, who was afraid of +being called brutal again if he did not make some mild remonstrance to +such a sweeping assertion. + +"Friends are included under the head of 'something to talk about,'" +answered Maria Consuelo. + +"That is an encouraging view." + +"Like all views one gets by experience." + +"You grow more and more bitter." + +"Does the world grow sweeter as one grows older?" + +"Neither you nor I have lived long enough to know," answered Orsino. + +"Facts make life long--not years." + +"So long as they leave no sign of age, what does it matter?" + +"I do not care for that sort of flattery." + +"Because it is not flattery at all. You know the truth too well. I am +not ingenious enough to flatter you, Madame. Perfection is not flattered +when it is called perfect." + +"It is at all events impossible to exaggerate better than you can," +answered Maria Consuelo, laughing at last at the overwhelming +compliment. "Where did you learn that?" + +"At your feet, Madame. The contemplation of great masterpieces enlarges +the intelligence and deepens the power of expression." + +"And I am a masterpiece--of what? Of art? Of caprice? Of consistency?" + +"Of nature," answered Orsino promptly. + +Again Maria Consuelo laughed a little, at the mere quickness of the +answer. Orsino was delighted with himself, for he fancied he was leading +her rapidly away from the dangerous ground upon which she had been +trying to force him. But her next words showed him that he had not yet +succeeded. + +"Who will make me laugh during all these months!" she exclaimed with a +little sadness. + +Orsino thought she was strangely obstinate, and wondered what she would +say next. + +"Dear me, Madame," he said, "if you are so kind as to laugh at my poor +wit, you will not have to seek far to find some one to amuse you +better!" + +He knew how to put on an expression of perfect simplicity when he +pleased, and Maria Consuelo looked at him, trying to be sure whether he +were in earnest or not. But his face baffled her. + +"You are too modest," she said. + +"Do you think it is a defect? Shall I cultivate a little more assurance +of manner?" he asked, very innocently. + +"Not to-day. Your first attempt might lead you into extremes." + +"There is not the slightest fear of that, Madame," he answered with some +emphasis. + +She coloured a little and her closed lips smiled in a way he had often +noticed before. He congratulated himself upon these signs of approaching +ill-temper, which promised an escape from his difficulty. To take leave +of her suddenly was to abandon the field, and that he would not do. She +had determined to force him into a confession of devotion, and he was +equally determined not to satisfy her. He had tried to lead her off her +track with frivolous talk and had failed. He would try and irritate her +instead, but without incurring the charge of rudeness. Why she was +making such an attack upon him, was beyond his understanding, but he +resented it, and made up his mind neither to fly nor yield. If he had +been a hundredth part as cynical as he liked to fancy himself, he would +have acted very differently. But he was young enough to have been +wounded by his former dismissal, though he hardly knew it, and to seek +almost instinctively to revenge his wrongs. He did not find it easy. He +would not have believed that such a woman as Maria Consuelo could so far +forget her pride as to go begging for a declaration of love. + +"I suppose you will take Gouache's portrait away with you," he observed, +changing the subject with a directness which he fancied would increase +her annoyance. + +"What makes you think so?" she asked, rather drily. + +"I thought it a natural question." + +"I cannot imagine what I should do with it. I shall leave it with him." + +"You will let him send it to the Salon in Paris, of course?" + +"If he likes. You seem interested in the fate of the picture." + +"A little. I wondered why you did not have it here, as it has been +finished so long." + +"Instead of that hideous mirror, you mean? There would be less variety. +I should always see myself in the same dress." + +"No--on the opposite wall. You might compare truth with fiction in that +way." + +"To the advantage of Gouache's fiction, you would say. You were more +complimentary a little while ago." + +"You imagine more rudeness than even I am capable of inventing." + +"That is saying much. Why did you change the subject just now?" + +"Because I saw that you were annoyed at something. Besides, we were +talking about myself, if I remember rightly." + +"Have you never heard that a man should always talk to a woman about +himself or herself?" + +"No. I never heard that. Shall we talk of you, then, Madame?" + +"Do you care to talk of me?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +Another direct attack, Orsino thought. + +"I would rather hear you talk of yourself," he answered without the +least hesitation. + +"If I were to tell you my thoughts about myself at the present moment, +they would surprise you very much." + +"Agreeably or disagreeably?" + +"I do not know. Are you vain?" + +"As a peacock!" replied Orsino quickly. + +"Ah--then what I am thinking would not interest you." + +"Why not?" + +"Because if it is not flattering it would wound you, and if it is +flattering it would disappoint you--by falling short of your ideal of +yourself." + +"Yet I confess that I would like to know what you think of me, though I +would much rather hear what you think of yourself." + +"On one condition, I will tell you." + +"What is that?" + +"That you will give me your word to give me your own opinion of me +afterwards." + +"The adjectives are ready, Madame, I give you my word." + +"You give it so easily! How can I believe you?" + +"It is so easy to give in such a case, when one has nothing disagreeable +to say." + +"Then you think me agreeable?" + +"Eminently!" + +"And charming?" + +"Perfectly!" + +"And beautiful?" + +"How can you doubt it?" + +"And in all other respects exactly like all the women in society to whom +you repeat the same commonplaces every day of your life?" + +The feint had been dexterous and the thrust was sudden, straight and +unexpected. + +"Madame!" exclaimed Orsino in the deprecatory tone of a man taken by +surprise. + +"You see--you have nothing to say!" She laughed a little bitterly. + +"You take too much for granted," he said, recovering himself. "You +suppose that because I agree with you upon one point after another, I +agree with you in the conclusion. You do not even wait to hear my +answer, and you tell me that I am checkmated when I have a dozen moves +from which to choose. Besides, you have directly infringed the +conditions. You have fired before the signal and an arbitration would go +against you. You have done fifty things contrary to agreement, and you +accuse me of being dumb in my own defence. There is not much justice in +that. You promise to tell me a certain secret on condition that I will +tell you another. Then, without saying a word on your own part you +stone me with quick questions and cry victory because I protest. You +begin before I have had so much as--" + +"For heaven's sake stop!" cried Maria Consuelo, interrupting a speech +which threatened to go on for twenty minutes. "You talk of chess, +duelling and stoning to death, in one sentence--I am utterly confused! +You upset all my ideas!" + +"Considering how you have disturbed mine, it is a fair revenge. And +since we both admit that we have disturbed that balance upon which alone +depends all possibility of conversation, I think that I can do nothing +more graceful--pardon me, nothing less ungraceful--than wish you a +pleasant journey, which I do with all my heart, Madame." + +Thereupon Orsino rose and took his hat. + +"Sit down. Do not go yet," said Maria Consuelo, growing a shade paler, +and speaking with an evident effort. + +"Ah--true!" exclaimed Orsino. "We were forgetting the little commission +you spoke of in your note. I am entirely at your service." + +Maria Consuelo looked at him quickly and her lips trembled. + +"Never mind that," she said unsteadily. "I will not trouble you. But I +do not want you to go away as--as you were going. I feel as though we +had been quarrelling. Perhaps we have. But let us say we are good +friends--if we only say it." + +Orsino was touched and disturbed. Her face was very white and her hand +trembled visibly as she held it out. He took it in his own without +hesitation. + +"If you care for my friendship, you shall have no better friend in the +world than I," he said, simply and naturally. + +"Thank you--good-bye. I shall leave to-morrow." + +The words were almost broken, as though she were losing control of her +voice. As he closed the door behind him, the sound of a wild and +passionate sob came to him through the panel. He stood still, listening +and hesitating. The truth which would have long been clear to an older +or a vainer man, flashed upon him suddenly. She loved him very much, and +he no longer cared for her. That was the reason why she had behaved so +strangely, throwing her pride and dignity to the winds in her desperate +attempt to get from him a single kind and affectionate word--from him, +who had poured into her ear so many words of love but two months +earlier, and from whom to draw a bare admission of friendship to-day she +had almost shed tears. + +To go back into the room would be madness; since he did not love her, it +would almost be an insult. He bent his head and walked slowly down the +corridor. He had not gone far, when he was confronted by a small dark +figure that stopped the way. He recognised Maria Consuelo's elderly +maid. + +"I beg your pardon, Signore Principe," said the little black-eyed woman. +"You will allow me to say a few words? I thank you, Eccellenza. It is +about my Signora, in there, of whom I have charge." + +"Of whom, you have charge?" repeated Orsino, not understanding her. + +"Yes--precisely. Of course, I am only her maid. You understand that. But +I have charge of her though she does not know it. The poor Signora has +had terrible trouble during the last few years, and at times--you +understand? She is a little--yes--here." She tapped her forehead. "She +is better now. But in my position I sometimes think it wiser to warn +some friend of hers--in strict confidence. It sometimes saves some +little unnecessary complication, and I was ordered to do so by the +doctors we last consulted in Paris. You will forgive me, Eccellenza, I +am sure." + +Orsino stared at the woman for some seconds in blank astonishment. She +smiled in a placid, self-confident way. + +"You mean that Madame d'Aranjuez is--mentally deranged, and that you are +her keeper? It is a little hard to believe, I confess." + +"Would you like to see my certificates, Signor Principe? Or the written +directions of the doctors? I am sure you are discreet." + +"I have no right to see anything of the kind," answered Orsino coldly. +"Of course, if you are acting under instructions it is no concern of +mine." + +He would have gone forward, but she suddenly produced a small bit of +note-paper, neatly folded, and offered it to him. + +"I thought you might like to know where we are until we return," she +said, continuing to speak in a very low voice. "It is the address." + +Orsino made an impatient gesture. He was on the point of refusing the +information which he had not taken the trouble to ask of Maria Consuelo +herself. But he changed his mind and felt in his pocket for something to +give the woman. It seemed the easiest and simplest way of getting rid of +her. The only note he had, chanced to be one of greater value than +necessary. + +"A thousand thanks, Eccellenza!" whispered the maid, overcome by what +she took for an intentional piece of generosity. + +Orsino left the hotel as quickly as he could. + +"For improbable situations, commend me to the nineteenth century and the +society in which we live!" he said to himself as he emerged into the +street. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + + +It was long before Orsino saw Maria Consuelo again, but the +circumstances of his last meeting with her constantly recurred to his +mind during the following months. It is one of the chief characteristics +of Rome that it seems to be one of the most central cities in Europe +during the winter, whereas in the summer months it appears to be +immensely remote from the rest of the civilised world. From having been +the prey of the inexpressible foreigner in his shooting season, it +suddenly becomes, and remains during about five months, the happy +hunting ground of the silent flea, the buzzing fly and the insinuating +mosquito. The streets are, indeed, still full of people, and long lines +of carriages may be seen towards sunset in the Villa Borghesa and in the +narrow Corso. Rome and the Romans are not easily parted as London and +London society, for instance. May comes--the queen of the months in the +south. June follows. Southern blood rejoices in the first strong +sunshine. July trudges in at the gates, sweating under the cloudless +sky, heavy, slow of foot, oppressed by the breath of the coming +dog-star. Still the nights are cool. Still, towards sunset, the +refreshing breeze sweeps up from the sea and fills the streets. Then +behind closely fastened blinds, the glass windows are opened and the +weary hand drops the fan at last. Then men and women array themselves in +the garments of civilisation and sally forth, in carriages, on foot, and +in trams, according to the degrees of social importance which provide +that in old countries the middle term shall be made to suffer for the +priceless treasure of a respectability which is a little higher than the +tram and financially not quite equal to the cab. Then, at that magic +touch of the west wind the house-fly retires to his own peculiar +Inferno, wherever that may be, the mosquito and the gnat pause in their +work of darkness and blood to concert fresh and more bloodthirsty deeds, +and even the joyous and wicked flea tires of the war dance and lays down +his weary head to snatch a hard-earned nap. July drags on, and terrible +August treads the burning streets bleaching the very dust up on the +pavement, scourging the broad campagna with fiery lashes of heat. Then +the white-hot sky reddens in the evening when it cools, as the white +iron does when it is taken from the forge. Then at last, all those who +can escape from the condemned city flee for their lives to the hills, +while those who must face the torment of the sun and the poison of the +air turn pale in their sufferings, feebly curse their fate and then grow +listless, weak and irresponsible as over-driven galley slaves, +indifferent to everything, work, rest, blows, food, sleep and the hope +of release. The sky darkens suddenly. There is a sort of horror in the +stifling air. People do not talk much, and if they do are apt to quarrel +and sometimes to kill one another without warning. The plash of the +fountains has a dull sound like the pouring out of molten lead. The +horses' hoofs strike visible sparks out of the grey stones in broad +daylight. Many houses are shut, and one fancies that there must be a +dead man in each whom no one will bury. A few great drops of rain make +ink-stains on the pavement at noon, and there is an exasperating, +half-sulphurous smell abroad. Late in the afternoon they fall again. An +evil wind comes in hot blasts from all quarters at once--then a low roar +like an earthquake and presently a crash that jars upon the overwrought +nerves--great and plashing drops again, a sharp short flash--then crash +upon crash, deluge upon deluge, and the worst is over. Summer has +received its first mortal wound. But its death is more fatal than its +life. The noontide heat is fierce and drinks up the moisture of the rain +and the fetid dust with it. The fever-wraith rises in the damp, cool +night, far out in the campagna, and steals up to the walls of the city, +and over them and under them and into the houses. If there are any yet +left in Rome who can by any possibility take themselves out of it, they +are not long in going. Till that moment, there has been only suffering +to be borne; now, there is danger of something worse. Now, indeed, the +city becomes a desert inhabited by white-faced ghosts. Now, if it be a +year of cholera, the dead carts rattle through the streets all night on +their way to the gate of Saint Lawrence, and the workmen count their +numbers when they meet at dawn. But the bad days are not many, if only +there be rain enough, for a little is worse than none. The nights +lengthen and the September gales sweep away the poison-mists with kindly +strength. Body and soul revive, as the ripe grapes appear in their +vine-covered baskets at the street corners. Rich October is coming, the +month in which the small citizens of Rome take their wives and the +children to the near towns, to Marino, to Froscati, to Albano and +Aricia, to eat late fruits and drink new must, with songs and laughter, +and small miseries and great delights such as are remembered a whole +year. The first clear breeze out of the north shakes down the dying +leaves and brightens the blue air. The brown campagna turns green again, +and the heart of the poor lame cab-horse is lifted up. The huge porter +of the palace lays aside his linen coat and his pipe, and opens wide the +great gates; for the masters are coming back, from their castles and +country places, from the sea and from the mountains, from north and +south, from the magic shore of Sorrento, and from distant French bathing +places, some with brides or husbands, some with rosy Roman babies making +their first trumphal entrance into Rome--and some, again, returning +companionless to the home they had left in companionship. The great and +complicated machinery of social life is set in order and repaired for +the winter; the lost or damaged pieces in the engine are carefully +replaced with new ones which will do as well or better, the joints and +bearings are lubricated, the whistle of the first invitation is heard, +there is some puffing and a little creaking at first, and then the big +wheels begin to go slowly round, solemnly and regularly as ever, while +all the little wheels run as fast as they can and set fire to their +axles in the attempt to keep up the speed, and are finally jammed and +caught up and smashed, as little wheels are sure to be when they try to +act like big ones. But unless something happens to one of the very +biggest the machine does not stop until the end of the season, when it +is taken to pieces again for repairs. + +That is the brief history of a Roman year, of which the main points are +very much like those of its predecessor and successor. The framework is +the same, but the decorations change, slowly, surely and not, perhaps, +advantageously, as the younger generation crowds into the place of the +older--as young acquaintances take the place of old friends, as faces +strange to us hide faces we have loved. + +Orsino Saracinesca, in his new character as a contractor and a man of +business, knew that he must either spend the greater part of the summer +in town, or leave his affairs in the hands of Andrea Contini. The latter +course was repugnant to him, partly because he still felt a beginner's +interest in his first success, and partly because he had a shrewd +suspicion that Contini, if left to himself in the hot weather, might be +tempted to devote more time to music than to architecture. The business, +too, was now on a much larger scale than before, though Orsino had taken +his mother's advice in not at once going so far as he might have gone. +It needed all his own restless energy, all Contini's practical talents, +and perhaps more of Del Ferice's influence than either of them +suspected, to keep it going on the road to success. + +In July Orsino's people made ready to go up to Saracinesca. The old +prince, to every one's surprise, declared his intention of going to +England, and roughly refused to be accompanied by any one of the family. +He wanted to find out some old friends, he said, and desired the +satisfaction of spending a couple of months in peace, which was quite +impossible at home, owing to Giovanni's outrageous temper and Orsino's +craze for business. He thereupon embraced them all affectionately, +indulged in a hearty laugh and departed in a special carriage with his +own servants. + +Giovanni objected to Orsino's staying in Rome during the great heat. +Though Orsino had not as yet entered into any explanation with his +father, but the latter understood well enough that the business had +turned out better than had been expected and began to feel an interest +in its further success, for his son's sake. He saw the boy developing +into a man by a process which he would naturally have supposed to be the +worst possible one, judging from his own point of view. But he could not +find fault with the result. There was no disputing the mental +superiority of the Orsino of July over the Orsino of the preceding +January. Whatever the sensation which Giovanni experienced as he +contemplated the growing change, it was not one of anxiety nor of +disappointment. But he had a Roman's well-founded prejudice against +spending August and September in town. His objections gave rise to some +discussion, in which Corona joined. + +Orsino enlarged upon the necessity of attending in person to the +execution of his contracts. Giovanni suggested that he should find some +trustworthy person to take his place. Corona was in favour of a +compromise. It would be easy, she said, for Orsino to spend two or three +days of every week in Rome and the remainder in the country with his +father and mother. They were all three quite right according to their +own views, and they all three knew it. Moreover they were all three very +obstinate people. The consequence was that Orsino, who was in +possession, so to say, since the other two were trying to make him +change his mind, got the best of the argument, and won his first pitched +battle. Not that there was any apparent hostility, or that any of the +three spoke hotly or loudly. They were none of them like old +Saracinesca, whose feats of argumentation were vehement, eccentric and +fiery as his own nature. They talked with apparent calm through a long +summer's afternoon, and the vanquished retired with a fairly good grace, +leaving Orsino master of the field. But on that occasion Giovanni +Saracinesca first formed the opinion that his son was a match for him, +and that it would be wise in future to ascertain the chances of success +before incurring the risk of a humiliating defeat. + +Giovanni and his wife went out together and talked over the matter as +their carriage swept round the great avenues of Villa Borghesa. + +"There is no question of the fact that Orsino is growing up--is grown up +already," said Sant' Ilario, glancing at Corona's calm, dark face. + +She smiled with a certain pride, as she heard the words. + +"Yes," she answered, "he is a man. It is a mistake to treat him as a boy +any longer." + +"Do you think it is this sudden interest in business that has changed +him so?" + +"Of course--what else?" + +"Madame d'Aranjuez, for instance," Giovanni suggested. + +"I do not believe she ever had the least influence over him. The +flirtation seems to have died a natural death. I confess, I hoped it +might end in that way, and I am glad if it has. And I am very glad that +Orsino is succeeding so well. Do you know, dear? I am glad, because you +did not believe it possible that he should." + +"No, I did not. And now that I begin to understand it, he does not like +to talk to me about his affairs. I suppose that is only natural. Tell +me--has he really made money? Or have you been giving him money to lose, +in order that he may buy experience." + +"He has succeeded alone," said Corona proudly. "I would give him +whatever he needed, but he needs nothing. He is immensely clever and +immensely energetic. How could he fail?" + +"You seem to admire our firstborn, my dear," observed Giovanni with a +smile. + +"To tell the truth, I do. I have no doubt that he does all sorts of +things which he ought not to do, and of which I know nothing. You did +the same at his age, and I shall be quite satisfied if he turns out like +you. I would not like to have a lady-like son with white hands and +delicate sensibilities, and hypocritical affectations of exaggerated +morality. I think I should be capable of trying to make such a boy bad, +if it only made him manly--though I daresay that would be very wrong." + +"No doubt," said Giovanni. "But we shall not be placed in any such +position by Orsino, my dear. You remember that little affair last year, +in England? It was very nearly a scandal. But then--the English are +easily led into temptation and very easily scandalised afterwards. +Orsino will not err in the direction of hypocritical morality. But that +is not the question. I wish to know, from you since he does not confide +in me, how far he is really succeeding." + +Corona gave her husband a remarkably clear statement of Orsino's +affairs, without exaggeration so far as the facts were concerned, but +not without highly favourable comment. She did not attempt to conceal +her triumph, now that success had been in a measure attained, and she +did not hesitate to tell Giovanni that he ought to have encouraged and +supported the boy from the first. + +Giovanni listened with very great interest, and bore her affectionate +reproaches with equanimity. He felt in his heart that he had done right, +and he somehow still believed that things were not in reality all that +they seemed to be. There was something in Orsino's immediate success +against odds apparently heavy, which disturbed his judgment. He had not, +it was true, any personal experience of the building speculations in the +city, nor of financial transactions in general, as at present +understood, and he had recently heard of cases in which individuals had +succeeded beyond their own wildest expectations. There was, perhaps, no +reason why Orsino should not do as well as other people, or even better, +in spite of his extreme youth. Andrea Contini was probably a man of +superior talent, well able to have directed the whole affair alone, if +other circumstances had been favourable to him, and there was on the +whole nothing to prove that the two young men had received more than +their fair share of assistance or accommodation from the bank. But +Giovanni knew well enough that Del Ferice was the most influential +personage in the bank in question, and the mere suggestion of his name +lent to the whole affair a suspicious quality which disturbed Orsino's +father. In spite of all reasonable reflexions there was an air of +unnatural good fortune in the case which he did not like, and he had +enough experience of Del Ferice's tortuous character to distrust his +intentions. He would have preferred to see his son lose money through +Ugo rather than that Orsino should owe the latter the smallest thanks. +The fact that he had not spoken with the man for over twenty years did +not increase the confidence he felt in him. In that time Del Ferice had +developed into a very important personage, having much greater power to +do harm than he had possessed in former days, and it was not to be +supposed that he had forgotten old wounds or given up all hope of +avenging them. Del Ferice was not very subject to that sort of +forgetfulness. + +When Corona had finished speaking, Giovanni was silent for a few +moments. + +"Is it not splendid?" Corona asked enthusiastically. "Why do you not say +anything? One would think that you were not pleased." + +"On the contrary, as far as Orsino is concerned, I am delighted. But I +do not trust Del Ferice." + +"Del Ferice is far too clever a man to ruin Orsino," answered Corona. + +"Exactly. That is the trouble. That is what makes me feel that though +Orsino has worked hard and shown extraordinary intelligence--and +deserves credit for that--yet he would not have succeeded in the same +way if he had dealt with any other bank. Del Ferice has helped him. +Possibly Orsino knows that, as well as we do, but he certainly does not +know what part Del Ferice played in our lives, Corona. If he did, he +would not accept his help." + +In her turn Corona was silent and a look of disappointment came into her +face. She remembered a certain afternoon in the mountains when she had +entreated Giovanni to let Del Ferice escape, and Giovanni had yielded +reluctantly and had given the fugitive a guide to take him to the +frontier. She wondered whether the generous impulse of that day was to +bear evil fruit at last. + +"Orsino knows nothing about it at all," she said at last. "We kept the +secret of Del Ferice's escape very carefully--for there were good +reasons to be careful in those days. Orsino only knows that you once +fought a duel with the man and wounded him." + +"I think it is time that he knew more." + +"Of what use can it be to tell him those old stories?" asked Corona. +"And after all, I do not believe that Del Ferice has done so much. If +you could have followed Orsino's work, day by day and week by week, as I +have, you would see how much is really due to his energy. Any other +banker would have done as much as he. Besides, it is in Del Ferice's own +interest--" + +"That is the trouble," interrupted Giovanni. "It is bad enough that he +should help Orsino. It is much worse that he should help him in order to +make use of him. If, as you say, any other bank would do as much, then +let him go to another bank. If he owes Del Ferice money at the present +moment, we will pay it for him." + +"You forget that he has bought the buildings he is now finishing, from +Del Ferice, on a mortgage." + +Giovanni laughed a little. + +"How you have learned to talk about mortgages and deeds and all sorts of +business!" he exclaimed. "But what you say is not an objection. We can +pay off these mortgages, I suppose, and take the risk ourselves." + +"Of course we could do that," Corona answered, thoughtfully. "But I +really think you exaggerate the whole affair. For the time being, Del +Ferice is not a man, but a banker. His personal character and former +doings do not enter into the matter." + +"I think they do," said Giovanni, still unconvinced. + +"At all events, do not make trouble now, dear," said Corona in earnest +tones. "Let the present contract be executed and finished, and then +speak to Orsino before he makes another. Whatever Del Ferice may have +done, you can see for yourself that Orsino is developing in a way we had +not expected, and is becoming a serious, energetic man. Do not step in +now, and check the growth of what is good. You will regret it as much as +I shall. When he has finished these buildings he will have enough +experience to make a new departure." + +"I hate the idea of receiving a favour from Del Ferice, or of laying him +under an obligation. I think I will go to him myself." + +"To Del Ferice?" Corona started and looked round at Giovanni as she sat. +She had a sudden vision of new trouble. + +"Yes. Why not? I will go to him and tell him that I would rather wind up +my son's business with him, as our former relations were not of a nature +to make transactions of mutual profit either fitting or even permissible +between any of our family and Ugo Del Ferice." + +"For Heaven's sake, Giovanni, do not do that." + +"And why not?" He was surprised at her evident distress. + +"For my sake, then--do not quarrel with Del Ferice--it was different +then, in the old days. I could not bear it now--" she stopped, and her +lower lip trembled a little. + +"Do you love me better than you did then, Corona?" + +"So much better--I cannot tell you." + +She touched his hand with hers and her dark eyes were a little veiled as +they met his. Both were silent for a moment. + +"I have no intention of quarrelling with Del Ferice, dear," said +Giovanni, gently. + +His face had grown a shade paler as she spoke. The power of her hand and +voice to move him, had not diminished in all the years of peaceful +happiness that had passed so quickly. + +"I do not mean any such thing," he said again. "But I mean this. I will +not have it said that Del Ferice has made a fortune for Orsino, nor +that Orsino has helped Del Ferice's interests. I see no way but to +interfere myself. I can do it without the suspicion of a quarrel." + +"It will be a great mistake, Giovanni. Wait till there is a new +contract." + +"I will think of it, before doing anything definite." + +Corona well knew that she should get no greater concession than this. +The point of honour had been touched in Giovanni's sensibilities and his +character was stubborn and determined where his old prejudices were +concerned. She loved him very dearly, and this very obstinacy of his +pleased her. But she fancied that trouble of some sort was imminent. She +understood her son's nature, too, and dreaded lest he should be forced +into opposing his father. + +It struck her that she might herself act as intermediary. She could +certainly obtain concessions from Orsino which Giovanni could not hope +to extract by force or stratagem. But the wisdom of her own proposal in +the matter seemed unassailable. The business now in hand should be +allowed to run its natural course before anything was done to break off +the relations between Orsino and Del Ferice. + +In the evening she found an opportunity of speaking with Orsino in +private. She repeated to him the details of her conversation with +Giovanni during the drive in the afternoon. + +"My dear mother," answered Orsino, "I do not trust Del Ferice any more +than you and my father trust him. You talk of things which he did years +ago, but you do not tell me what those things were. So far as I +understand, it all happened before you were married. My father and he +quarrelled about something, and I suppose there was a lady concerned in +the matter. Unless you were the lady in question, and unless what he did +was in the nature of an insult to you, I cannot see how the matter +concerns me. They fought and it ended there, as affairs of honour do. If +it touched you, then tell me so, and I will break with Del Ferice +to-morrow morning." + +Corona was silent, for Orsino's speech was very plain, and if she +answered it all, the answer must be the truth. There could be no escape +from that. And the truth would be very hard to tell. At that time she +had been still the wife of old Astrardente, and Del Ferice's offence had +been that he had purposely concealed himself in the conservatory of the +Frangipan's palace in order to overhear what Giovanni Saracinesca was +about to say to another man's wife. The fact that on that memorable +night she had bravely resisted a very great temptation did not affect +the difficulty of the present case in any way. She asked herself rather +whether Del Ferice's eavesdropping would appear to Orsino to be in the +nature of an insult to her, to use his own words, and she had no doubt +but that it would seem so. At the same time she would find hard to +explain to her son why Del Ferice suspected that there was to be +anything said to her worth overhearing, seeing that she bore at that +time the name of another man then still living. How could Orsino +understand all that had gone before? Even now, though she knew that she +had acted well, she humbly believed that she might have done much +better. How would her son judge her? She was silent, waiting for him to +speak again. + +"That would be the only conceivable reason for my breaking with Del +Ferice," said Orsino. "We only have business relations, and I do not go +to his house. I went once. I saw no reason for telling you so at the +time, and I have not been there again. It was at the beginning of the +whole affair. Outside of the bank, we are the merest acquaintances. But +I repeat what I said. If he ever did anything which makes it +dishonourable for me to accept even ordinary business services from him, +let me know it. I have some right to hear the truth." + +Corona hesitated, and laid the case again before her own conscience, and +tried to imagine herself in her son's position. It was hard to reach a +conclusion. There was no doubt but that when she had learned the truth, +long after the event, she had felt that she had been insulted and justly +avenged. If she said nothing now, Orsino would suspect something and +would assuredly go to his father, from whom he would get a view of the +case not conspicuous for its moderation. And Giovanni would undoubtedly +tell his son the details of what had followed, how Del Ferice had +attempted to hinder the marriage when it was at last possible, and all +the rest of the story. At the same time, she felt that so far as her +personal sensibilities were concerned, she had not the least objection +to the continuance of a mere business relation between Orsino and Del +Ferice. She was more forgiving than Giovanni. + +"I will tell you this much, my dear boy," she said, at last. "That old +quarrel did concern me and no one else. Your father feels more strongly +about it than I do, because he fought for me and not for himself. You +trust me, Orsino. You know that I would rather see you dead than doing +anything dishonourable. Very well. Do not ask any more questions, and do +not go to your father about it. Del Ferice has only advanced you money, +in a business way, on good security and at a high interest. So far as I +can judge of the point of honour involved, what happened long ago need +not prevent your doing what you are doing now. Possibly, when you have +finished the present contract, you may think it wiser to apply to some +other bank, or to work on your own account with my money." + +Corona believed that she had found the best way out of the difficulty, +and Orsino seemed satisfied, for he nodded thoughtfully and said +nothing. The day had been filled with argument and discussion about his +determination to stay in town, and he was weary of the perpetual +question and answer. He knew his mother well, and was willing to take +her advice for the present. She, on her part, told Giovanni what she had +done, and he consented to consider the matter a little longer before +interfering. He disliked even the idea of a business relation extremely, +but he feared that there was more behind the appearances of commercial +fairness than either he or Orsino himself could understand. The better +Orsino succeeded, the less his father was pleased, and his suspicions +were not unfounded. He knew from San Giacinto that success was becoming +uncommon, and he knew that all Orsino's industry and energy could not +have sufficed to counterbalance his inexperience. Andrea Contini, too, +had been recommended by Del Ferice, and was presumably Del Ferice's man. + +On the following day Giovanni and Corona with the three younger boys +went up to Saracinesca leaving Orsino alone in the great palace, to his +own considerable satisfaction. He was well pleased with himself and +especially at having carried his point. At his age, and with his +constitution, the heat was a matter of supreme indifference to him, and +he looked forward with delight to a summer of uninterrupted work in the +not uncongenial society of Andrea Contini. As for the work itself, it +was beginning to have a sort of fascination for him as he understood it +better. The love of building, the passion for stone and brick and +mortar, is inherent in some natures, and is capable of growing into a +mania little short of actual insanity. Orsino began to ask himself +seriously whether it were too late to study architecture as a profession +and in the meanwhile he learned more of it in practice from Contini than +he could have acquired in twice the time at any polytechnic school in +Europe. + +He liked Contini himself more and more as the days went by. Hitherto he +had been much inclined to judge his own countrymen from his own class. +He was beginning to see that he had understood little or nothing of the +real Italian nature when uninfluenced by foreign blood. The study +interested and pleased him. Only one unpleasant memory occasionally +disturbed his peace of mind. When he thought of his last meeting with +Maria Consuelo he hated himself for the part he had played, though he +was quite unable to account logically, upon his assumed principles, for +the severity of his self-condemnation. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + + +Orsino necessarily led a monotonous life, though, his occupation was an +absorbing one. Very early in the morning he was with Contini where the +building was going on. He then passed the hot hours of the day in the +office, which, as before, had been established in one of the unfinished +houses. Towards evening, he went down into the city to his home, +refreshed himself after his long day's work, and then walked or drove +until half past eight, when he went to dinner in the garden of a great +restaurant in the Corso. Here he met a few acquaintances who, like +himself, had reasons for staying in town after their families had left. +He always sat at the same small table, at which there was barely room +for two persons, for he preferred to be alone, and he rarely asked a +passing friend to sit down with him. + +On a certain hot evening in the beginning of August he had just taken +his seat, and was trying to make up his mind whether he were hungry +enough to eat anything or whether it would not be less trouble to drink +a glass of iced coffee and go away, when he was aware of a lank shadow +cast across the white cloth by the glaring electric light. He looked up +and saw Spicca standing there, apparently uncertain where to sit down +for the place was fuller than usual. He liked the melancholy old man and +spoke to him, offering to share his table. + +Spicca hesitated a moment and then accepted the invitation. He deposited +his hat upon a chair beside him and leaned back, evidently exhausted +either in mind or body, if not in both. + +"I am very much obliged to you, my dear Orsino," he said. "There is an +abominable crowd here, which means an unusual number of people to +avoid--just as many as I know, in fact, excepting yourself." + +"I am glad you do not wish to avoid me, too," observed Orsino, by way of +saying something. + +"You are a less evil--so I choose you in preference to the greater," +Spicca answered. But there was a not unkindly look in his sunken eyes as +he spoke. + +He tipped the great flask of Chianti that hung in its swinging plated +cradle in the middle of the table, and filled two glasses. + +"Since all that is good has been abolished, let us drink to the least of +evils," he said, "in other words, to each other." + +"To the absence of friends," answered Orsino, touching the wine with his +lips. + +Spicca emptied his glass slowly and then looked at him. + +"I like that toast," he said. "To the absence of friends. I daresay you +have heard of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Do they still teach +the dear old tale in these modern schools? No. But you have heard +it--very well. You will remember that if they had not allowed the +serpent to scrape acquaintance with them, on pretence of a friendly +interest in their intellectual development, Adam and Eve would still be +inventing names for the angelic little wild beasts who were too +well-behaved to eat them. They would still be in paradise. Moreover +Orsino Saracinesca and John Nepomucene Spicca would not be in daily +danger of poisoning in this vile cookshop. Summary ejection from Eden +was the first consequence of friendship, and its results are similar to +this day. What nauseous mess are we to swallow to-night? Have you looked +at the card?" + +Orsino laughed a little. He foresaw that Spicca would not be dull +company on this particular evening. Something unusually disagreeable had +probably happened to him during the day. After long and melancholy +hesitation he ordered something which he believed he could eat, and +Orsino followed his example. + +"Are all your people out of town?" Spicca asked, after a pause. + +"Yes. I am alone." + +"And what in the world is the attraction here? Why do you stay? I do not +wish to be indiscreet, and I was never afflicted with curiosity. But +cases of mental alienation grow more common every day, and as an old +friend of your father's I cannot overlook symptoms of madness in you. A +really sane person avoids Rome in August." + +"It strikes me that I might say the same to you," answered Orsino. "I am +kept here by business. You have not even that excuse." + +"How do you know?" asked Spicca, sharply. "Business has two main +elements--credit and debit. The one means the absence of the other. I +leave it to your lively intelligence to decide which of the two means +Rome in August, and which means Trouville or St. Moritz." + +"I had not thought of it in that light." + +"No? I daresay not. I constantly think of it." + +"There are other places, nearer than St. Moritz," suggested Orsino. "Why +not go to Sorrento?" + +"There was such a place once--but my friends have found it out. +Nevertheless, I might go there. It is better to suffer friendship in the +spirit than fever in the body. But I have a reason for staying here just +at present--a very good one." + +"Without indiscretion--?" + +"No, certainly not without considerable indiscretion. Take some more +wine. When intoxication is bliss it is folly to be sober, as the proverb +says. I cannot get tipsy, but you may, and that will be almost as +amusing. The main object of drinking wine is that one person should make +confidences for the other to laugh at--the one enjoys it quite as much +as the other." + +"I would rather be the other," said Orsino with a laugh. + +"In all cases in life it is better to be the other person," observed +Spicca, thoughtfully, though the remark lacked precision. + +"You mean the patient and not the agent, I suppose?" + +"No. I mean the spectator. The spectator is a well fed, indifferent +personage who laughs at the play and goes home to supper--perdition upon +him and his kind! He is the abomination of desolation in a front stall, +looking on while better men cut one another's throats. He is a fat man +with a pink complexion and small eyes, and when he has watched other +people's troubles long enough, he retires to his comfortable vault in +the family chapel in the Campo Varano, which is decorated with coloured +tiles, embellished with a modern altar piece and adorned with a bust of +himself by a good sculptor. Even in death, he is still the spectator, +grinning through the window of his sanctuary at the rows of nameless +graves outside. He is happy and self-satisfied still--even in marble. It +is worth living to be such a man." + +"It is not an exciting life," remarked Orsino. + +"No. That is the beauty of it. Look at me. I have never succeeded in +imitating that well-to-do, thoroughly worthy villain. I began too late. +Take warning, Orsino. You are young. Grow fat and look on--then you will +die happy. All the philosophy of life is there. Farinaceous food, money +and a wife. That is the recipe. Since you have money you can purchase +the gruel and the affections. Waste no time in making the investment." + +"I never heard you advocate marriage before. You seem to have changed +your mind, of late." + +"Not in the least. I distinguish between being married and taking a +wife, that is all." + +"Rather a fine distinction." + +"The only difference between a prisoner and his gaoler is that they are +on opposite sides of the same wall. Take some more wine. We will drink +to the man on the outside." + +"May you never be inside," said Orsino. + +Spicca emptied his glass and looked at him, as he set it down again. + +"May you never know what it is to have been inside," he said. + +"You speak as though you had some experience." + +"Yes, I have--through an acquaintance of mine." + +"That is the most agreeable way of gaining experience." + +"Yes," answered Spicca with a ghastly smile. "Perhaps I may tell you the +story some day. You may profit by it. It ended rather dramatically--so +far as it can be said to have ended at all. But we will not speak of it +just now. Here is another dish of poison--do you call that thing a fish, +Checco? Ah--yes. I perceive that you are right. The fact is apparent at +a great distance. Take it away. We are all mortal, Checco, but we do not +like to be reminded of it so very forcibly. Give me a tomato and some +vinegar." + +"And the birds, Signore? Do you not want them any more?" + +"The birds--yes, I had forgotten. And another flask of wine, Checco." + +"It is not empty yet, Signore," observed the waiter lifting the +rush-covered bottle and shaking it a little. + +Spicca silently poured out two glasses and handed him the empty flask. +He seemed to be very thirsty. Presently he got his birds. They proved +eatable, for quails are to be had all through the summer in Italy, and +he began to eat in silence. Orsino watched him with some curiosity +wondering whether the quantity of wine he drank would not ultimately +produce some effect. As yet, however, none was visible; his cadaverous +face was as pale and quiet as ever, and his sunken eyes had their usual +expression. + +"And how does your business go on, Orsino?" he asked, after a long +silence. + +Orsino answered him willingly enough and gave him some account of his +doings. He grew somewhat enthusiastic as he compared his present busy +life with his former idleness. + +"I like the way you did it, in spite of everybody's advice," said +Spicca, kindly. "A man who can jump through the paper ring of Roman +prejudice without stumbling must be nimble and have good legs. So +nobody gave you a word of encouragement?" + +"Only one person, at first. I think you know her--Madame d'Aranjuez. I +used to see her often just at that time." + +"Madame d'Aranjuez?" Spicca looked up sharply, pausing with his glass in +his hand. + +"You know her?" + +"Very well indeed," answered the old man, before he drank. "Tell me, +Orsino," he continued, when he had finished the draught, "are you in +love with that lady?" + +Orsino was surprised by the directness of the question, but he did not +show it. + +"Not in the least," he answered, coolly. + +"Then why did you act as though you were?" asked Spicca looking him +through and through. + +"Do you mean to say that you were watching me all winter?" inquired +Orsino, bending his black eyebrows rather angrily. + +"Circumstances made it inevitable that I should know of your visits. +There was a time when you saw her every day." + +"I do not know what the circumstances, as you call them, were," answered +Orsino. "But I do not like to be watched--even by my father's old +friends." + +"Keep your temper, Orsino," said Spicca quietly. "Quarrelling is always +ridiculous unless somebody is killed, and then it is inconvenient. If +you understood the nature of my acquaintance with Maria Consuelo--with +Madame d'Aranjuez, you would see that while not meaning to spy upon you +in the least, I could not be ignorant of your movements." + +"Your acquaintance must be a very close one," observed Orsino, far from +pacified. + +"So close that it has justified me in doing very odd things on her +account. You will not accuse me of taking a needless and officious +interest in the affairs of others, I think. My own are quite enough for +me. It chances that they are intimately connected with the doings of +Madame d'Aranjuez, and have been so for a number of years. The fact that +I do not desire the connexion to be known does not make it easier for me +to act, when I am obliged to act at all. I did not ask an idle question +when I asked you if you loved her." + +"I confess that I do not at all understand the situation," said Orsino. + +"No. It is not easy to understand, unless I give you the key to it. And +yet you know more already than any one in Rome. I shall be obliged if +you will not repeat what you know." + +"You may trust me," answered Orsino, who saw from Spicca's manner that +the matter was very serious. + +"Thank you. I see that you are cured of the idea that I have been +frivolously spying upon you for my own amusement." + +Orsino was silent. He thought of what had happened after he had taken +leave of Maria Consuelo. The mysterious maid who called herself Maria +Consuelo's nurse, or keeper, had perhaps spoken the truth. It was +possible that Spicca was one of the guardians responsible to an unknown +person for the insane lady's safety, and that he was consequently daily +informed by the maid of the coming and going of visitors, and of other +minor events. On the other hand it seemed odd that Maria Consuelo should +be at liberty to go whithersoever she pleased. She could not reasonably +be supposed to have a guardian in every city of Europe. The more he +thought of this improbability the less he understood the truth. + +"I suppose I cannot hope that you will tell me more," he said. + +"I do not see why I should," answered Spicca, drinking again. "I asked +you an indiscreet question and I have given you an explanation which you +are kind enough to accept. Let us say no more about it. It is better to +avoid unpleasant subjects." + +"I should not call Madame d'Aranjuez an unpleasant subject," observed +Orsino. + +"Then why did you suddenly cease to visit her?" asked Spicca. + +"For the best of all reasons. Because she repeatedly refused to receive +me." He was less inclined to take offence now than five minutes earlier. +"I see that your information was not complete." + +"No. I was not aware of that. She must have had a good reason for not +seeing you." + +"Possibly." + +"But you cannot guess what the reason was?" + +"Yes--and no. It depends upon her character, which I do not pretend to +understand." + +"I understand it well enough. I can guess at the fact. You made love to +her, and one fine day, when she saw that you were losing your head, she +quietly told her servant to say that she was not at home when you +called. Is that it?" + +"Possibly. You say you know her well--then you know whether she would +act in that way or not." + +"I ought to know. I think she would. She is not like other women--she +has not the same blood." + +"Who is she?" asked Orsino, with a sudden hope that he might learn the +truth. + +"A woman--rather better than the rest--a widow, too, the widow of a man +who never was her husband--thank God!" + +Spicca slowly refilled and emptied his goblet for the tenth time. + +"The rest is a secret," he added, when he had finished drinking. + +The dark, sunken eyes gazed into Orsino's with an expression so strange +and full of a sort of inexplicable horror, as to make the young man +think that the deep potations were beginning to produce an effect upon +the strong old head. Spicca sat quite still for several minutes after he +had spoken, and then leaned back in his cane chair with a deep sigh. +Orsino sighed too, in a sort of unconscious sympathy, for even allowing +for Spicca's natural melancholy the secret was evidently an unpleasant +one. Orsino tried to turn the conversation, not, however, without a hope +of bringing it back unawares to the question which interested him. + +"And so you really mean to stay here all summer," he remarked, lighting +a cigarette and looking at the people seated at a table behind Spicca. + +Spicca did not answer at first, and when he did his reply had nothing to +do with Orsino's interrogatory observation. + +"We never get rid of the things we have done in our lives," he said, +dreamily. "When a man sows seed in a ploughed field some of the grains +are picked out by birds, and some never sprout. We are much more +perfectly organised than the earth. The actions we sow in our souls all +take root, inevitably and fatally--and they all grow to maturity sooner +or later." + +Orsino stared at him for a moment. + +"You are in a philosophising mood this evening," he said. + +"We are only logic's pawns," continued Spicca without heeding the +remark. "Or, if you like it better, we are the Devil's chess pieces in +his match against God. We are made to move each in our own way. The one +by short irregular steps in every direction, the other in long straight +lines between starting point and goal--the one stands still, like the +king-piece, and never moves unless he is driven to it, the other jumps +unevenly like the knight. It makes no difference. We take a certain +number of other pieces, and then we are taken ourselves--always by the +adversary--and tossed aside out of the game. But then, it is easy to +carry out the simile, because the game itself was founded on the facts +of life, by the people who invented it." + +"No doubt," said Orsino, who was not very much interested. + +"Yes. You have only to give the pieces the names of men and women you +know, and to call the pawns society--you will see how very like real +life chess can be. The king and queen on each side are a married couple. +Of course, the object of each queen is to get the other king, and all +her friends help her--knights, bishops, rooks and her set of society +pawns. Very like real life, is it not? Wait till you are married." + +Spicca smiled grimly and took more wine. + +"There at least you have no personal experience," objected Orsino. + +But Spicca only smiled again, and vouchsafed no answer. + +"Is Madame d'Aranjuez coming back next winter?" asked the young man. + +"Madame d'Aranjuez will probably come back, since she is free to consult +her own tastes," answered Spicca gravely. + +"I hope she may be out of danger by that time," said Orsino quietly. He +had resolved upon a bolder attack than he had hitherto made. + +"What danger is she in now?" asked Spicca quietly. + +"Surely, you must know." + +"I do not understand you. Please speak plainly if you are in earnest." + +"Before she went away I called once more. When I was coming away her +maid met me in the corridor of the hotel and told me that Madame +d'Aranjuez was not quite sane, and that she, the maid, was in reality +her keeper, or nurse--or whatever you please to call her." + +Spicca laughed harshly. No one could remember to have heard him laugh +many times. + +"Oh--she said that, did she?" He seemed very much amused. "Yes," he +added presently, "I think Madame d'Aranjuez will be quite out of danger +before Christmas." + +Orsino was more puzzled than ever. He was almost sure that Spicca did +not look upon the maid's assertion as serious, and in that case, if his +interest in Maria Consuelo was friendly, it was incredible that he +should seem amused at what was at least a very dangerous piece of spite +on the part of a trusted servant. + +"Then is there no truth in that woman's statement?" asked Orsino. + +"Madame d'Aranjuez seemed perfectly sane when I last saw her," answered +Spicca indifferently. + +"Then what possible interest had the maid in inventing the lie?" + +"Ah--what interest? That is quite another matter, as you say. It may not +have been her own interest." + +"You think that Madame d'Aranjuez had instructed her?" + +"Not necessarily. Some one else may have suggested the idea, subject to +the lady's own consent." + +"And she would have consented? I do not believe that." + +"My dear Orsino, the world is full of such apparently improbable things +that it is always rash to disbelieve anything on the first hearing. It +is really much less trouble to accept all that one is told without +question." + +"Of course, if you tell me positively that she wishes to be thought +mad--" + +"I never say anything positively, especially about a woman--and least of +all about the lady in question, who is undoubtedly eccentric." + +Instead of being annoyed, Orsino felt his curiosity growing, and made a +rash vow to find out the truth at any price. It was inconceivable, he +thought, that Spicca should still have perfect control of his faculties, +considering the extent of his potations. The second flask was growing +light, and Orsino himself had not taken more than two or three glasses. +Now a Chianti flask never holds less than two quarts. Moreover Spicca +was generally a very moderate man. He would assuredly not resist the +confusing effects of the wine much longer and he would probably become +confidential. + +But Orsino had mistaken his man. Spicca's nerves, overwrought by some +unknown disturbance in his affairs, were in that state in which far +stronger stimulants than Tuscan wine have little or no effect upon the +brain. Orsino looked at him and wondered, as many had wondered already, +what sort of life the man had led, outside and beyond the social +existence which every one could see. Few men had been dreaded like the +famous duellist, who had played with the best swordsmen in Europe as a +cat plays with a mouse. And yet he had been respected, as well as +feared. There had been that sort of fatality in his quarrels which had +saved him from the imputation of having sought them. He had never been a +gambler, as reputed duellists often are. He had never refused to stand +second for another man out of personal dislike or prejudice. No one had +ever asked his help in vain, high or low, rich or poor, in a reasonably +good cause. His acts of kindness came to light accidentally after many +years. Yet most people fancied that he hated mankind, with that sort of +generous detestation which never stoops to take a mean advantage. In his +duels he had always shown the utmost consideration for his adversary and +the utmost indifference to his own interest when conditions had to be +made. Above all, he had never killed a man by accident. That is a crime +which society does not forgive. But he had not failed, either, when he +had meant to kill. His speech was often bitter, but never spiteful, and, +having nothing to fear, he was a very truthful man. He was also +reticent, however, and no one could boast of knowing the story which +every one agreed in saying had so deeply influenced his life. He had +often been absent from Rome for long periods, and had been heard of as +residing in more than one European capital. He had always been supposed +to be rich, but during the last three years it had become clear to his +friends that he was poor. That is all, roughly speaking, which was known +of John Nepomucene, Count Spicca, by the society in which he had spent +more than half his life. + +Orsino, watching the pale and melancholy face, compared himself with his +companion, and wondered whether any imaginable series of events could +turn him into such a man at the same age. Yet he admired Spicca, besides +respecting him. Boy-like, he envied the great duellist his reputation, +his unerring skill, his unfaltering nerve; he even envied him the fear +he inspired in those whom he did not like. He thought less highly of his +sayings now, perhaps, than when he had first been old enough to +understand them. The youthful affectation of cynicism had agreed well +with the old man's genuine bitterness, but the pride of growing manhood +was inclined to put away childish things and had not yet suffered so as +to understand real suffering. Six months had wrought a change in Orsino, +and so far the change was for the better. He had been fortunate in +finding success at the first attempt, and his passing passion for Maria +Consuelo had left little trace beyond a certain wondering regret that it +had not been greater, and beyond the recollection of her sad face at +their parting and of the sobs he had overheard. Though he could only +give those tears one meaning, he realised less and less as the months +passed that they had been shed for him. + +That Maria Consuelo should often be in his thoughts was no proof that he +still loved her in the smallest degree. There had been enough odd +circumstances about their acquaintance to rouse any ordinary man's +interest, and just at present Spicca's strange hints and half +confidences had excited an almost unbearable curiosity in his hearer. +But Spicca did not seem inclined to satisfy it any further. + +One or two points, at least, were made clear. Maria Consuelo was not +insane, as the maid had pretended. Her marriage with the deceased +Aranjuez had been a marriage only in name, if it had even amounted to +that. Finally, it was evident that she stood in some very near relation +to Spicca and that neither she nor he wished the fact to be known. To +all appearance they had carefully avoided meeting during the preceding +winter, and no one in society was aware that they were even acquainted. +Orsino recalled more than one occasion when each had been mentioned in +the presence of the other. He had a good memory and he remembered that +a scarcely perceptible change had taken place in the manner or +conversation of the one who heard the other's name. It even seemed to +him that at such moments Maria Consuelo had shown an infinitesimal +resentment, whereas Spicca had faintly exhibited something more like +impatience. If this were true, it argued that Spicca was more friendly +to Maria Consuelo than she was to him. Yet on this particular evening +Spicca had spoken somewhat bitterly of her--but then, Spicca was always +bitter. His last remark was to the effect that she was eccentric. After +a long silence, during which Orsino hoped that his friend would say +something more, he took up the point. + +"I wish I knew what you meant by eccentric," he said. "I had the +advantage of seeing Madame d'Aranjuez frequently, and I did not notice +any eccentricity about her." + +"Ah--perhaps you are not observant. Or perhaps, as you say, we do not +mean the same thing." + +"That is why I would like to hear your definition," observed Orsino. + +"The world is mad on the subject of definitions," answered Spicca. "It +is more blessed to define than to be defined. It is a pleasant thing to +say to one's enemy, 'Sir, you are a scoundrel.' But when your enemy says +the same thing to you, you kill him without hesitation or regret--which +proves, I suppose, that you are not pleased with his definition of you. +You see definition, after all, is a matter of taste. So, as our tastes +might not agree, I would rather not define anything this evening. I +believe I have finished that flask. Let us take our coffee. We can +define that beforehand, for we know by daily experience how diabolically +bad it is." + +Orsino saw that Spicca meant to lead the conversation away in another +direction. + +"May I ask you one serious question?" he inquired, leaning forward. + +"With a little ingenuity you may even ask me a dozen, all equally +serious, my dear Orsino. But I cannot promise to answer all or any +particular one. I am not omniscient, you know." + +"My question is this. I have no sort of right to ask it. I know that. +Are you nearly related to Madame d'Aranjuez?" + +Spicca looked curiously at him. + +"Would the information be of any use to you?" he asked. "Should I be +doing you a service in telling you that we are, or are not related?" + +"Frankly, no," answered Orsino, meeting the steady glance without +wavering. + +"Then I do not see any reason whatever for telling you the truth," +returned Spicca quietly. "But I will give you a piece of general +information. If harm comes to that lady through any man whomsoever, I +will certainly kill him, even if I have to be carried upon the ground." + +There was no mistaking the tone in which the threat was uttered. Spicca +meant what he said, though not one syllable was spoken louder than +another. In his mouth the words had a terrific force, and told Orsino +more of the man's true nature than he had learnt in years. Orsino was +not easily impressed, and was certainly not timid, morally or +physically; moreover he was in the prime of youth and not less skilful +than other men in the use of weapons. But he felt at that moment that he +would infinitely rather attack a regiment of artillery single-handed +than be called upon to measure swords with the cadaverous old invalid +who sat on the other side of the table. + +"It is not in my power to do any harm to Madame d'Aranjuez," he answered +proudly enough, "and you ought to know that if it were, it could not +possibly be in my intention. Therefore your threat is not intended for +me." + +"Very good, Orsino. Your father would have answered like that, and you +mean what you say. If I were young I think that you and I should be +friends. Fortunately for you there is a matter of forty years' +difference between our ages, so that you escape the infliction of such +a nuisance as my friendship. You must find it bad enough to have to put +up with my company." + +"Do not talk like that," answered Orsino. "The world is not all +vinegar." + +"Well, well--you will find out what the world is in time. And perhaps +you will find out many other things which you want to know. I must be +going, for I have letters to write. Checco! My bill." + +Five minutes later they parted. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + + +Although Orsino's character was developing quickly in the new +circumstances which he had created for himself, he was not of an age to +be continually on his guard against passing impressions; still less +could it be expected that he should be hardened against them by +experience, as many men are by nature. His conversation with Spicca, and +Spicca's own behaviour while it lasted, produced a decided effect upon +the current of his thoughts, and he was surprised to find himself +thinking more often and more seriously of Maria Consuelo than during the +months which had succeeded her departure from Rome. Spicca's words had +acted indirectly upon his mind. Much that the old man had said was +calculated to rouse Orsino's curiosity, but Orsino was not naturally +curious and though he felt that it would be very interesting to know +Maria Consuelo's story, the chief result of the Count's half +confidential utterances was to recall the lady herself very vividly to +his recollection. + +At first his memory merely brought back the endless details of his +acquaintance with her, which had formed the central feature of the first +season he had spent without interruption in Rome and in society. He was +surprised at the extreme precision of the pictures evoked, and took +pleasure in calling them up when he was alone and unoccupied. The events +themselves had not, perhaps, been all agreeable, yet there was not one +which it did not give him some pleasant sensation to remember. There was +a little sadness in some of them, and more than once the sadness was +mingled with something of humiliation. Yet even this last was bearable. +Though he did not realise it, he was quite unable to think of Maria +Consuelo without feeling some passing touch of happiness at the thought, +for happiness can live with sadness when it is the greater of the two. +He had no desire to analyse these sensations. Indeed the idea did not +enter his mind that they were worth analysing. His intelligence was +better employed with his work, and his reflexions concerning Maria +Consuelo chiefly occupied his hours of rest. + +The days passed quickly at first and then, as September came they seemed +longer, instead of shorter. He was beginning to wish that the winter +would come, that he might again see the woman of whom he was continually +thinking. More than once he thought of writing to her, for he had the +address which the maid had given him--an address in Paris which said +nothing, a mere number with the name of a street. He wondered whether +she would answer him, and when he had reached the self-satisfying +conviction that she would, he at last wrote a letter, such as any person +might write to another. He told her of the weather, of the dulness of +Rome, of his hope that she would return early in the season, and of his +own daily occupations. It was a simply expressed, natural and not at all +emotional epistle, not at all like that of a man in the least degree in +love with his correspondent, but Orsino felt an odd sensation of +pleasure in writing it and was surprised by a little thrill of happiness +as he posted it with his own hand. + +He did not forget the letter when he had sent it, either, as one forgets +the uninteresting letters one is obliged to write out of civility. He +hoped for an answer. Even if she were in Paris, Maria Consuelo might +not, and probably would not, reply by return of post. And it was not +probable that she would be in town at the beginning of September. Orsino +calculated the time necessary to forward the letter from Paris to the +most distant part of frequented Europe, allowed her three days for +answering and three days more for her letter to reach him. The interval +elapsed, but nothing came. Then he was irritated, and at last he became +anxious. Either something had happened to Maria Consuelo, or he had +somehow unconsciously offended her by what he had written. He had no +copy of the letter and could not recall a single phrase which could have +displeased her, but he feared lest something might have crept into it +which she might misinterpret. But this idea was too absurd to be tenable +for long, and the conviction grew upon him that she must be ill or in +some great trouble. He was amazed at his own anxiety. + +Three weeks had gone by since he had written, and yet no word of reply +had reached him. Then he sought out Spicca and asked him boldly whether +anything had happened to Maria Consuelo, explaining that he had written +to her and had got no answer. Spicca looked at him curiously for a +moment. + +"Nothing has happened to her, as far as I am aware," he said, almost +immediately. "I saw her this morning." + +"This morning?" Orsino was surprised almost out of words. + +"Yes. She is here, looking for an apartment in which to spend the +winter." + +"Where is she?" + +Spicca named the hotel, adding that Orsino would probably find her at +home during the hot hours of the afternoon. + +"Has she been here long?" asked the young man. + +"Three days." + +"I will go and see her at once. I may be useful to her in finding an +apartment." + +"That would be very kind of you," observed Spicca, glancing at him +rather thoughtfully. + +On the following afternoon, Orsino presented himself at the hotel and +asked for Madame d'Aranjuez. She received him in a room not very +different from the one of which she had had made her sitting-room during +the winter. As always, one or two new books and the mysterious silver +paper cutter were the only objects of her own which were visible. Orsino +hardly noticed the fact, however, for she was already in the room when +he entered, and his eyes met hers at once. + +He fancied that she looked less strong than formerly, but the heat was +great and might easily account for her pallor. Her eyes were deeper, and +their tawny colour seemed darker. Her hand was cold. + +She smiled faintly as she met Orsino, but said nothing and sat down at a +distance from the windows. + +"I only heard last night that you were in Rome," he said. + +"And you came at once to see me. Thanks. How did you find it out?" + +"Spicca told me. I had asked him for news of you." + +"Why him?" inquired Maria Consuelo with some curiosity. + +"Because I fancied he might know," answered Orsino passing lightly over +the question. He did not wish even Maria Consuelo to guess that Spicca +had spoken of her to him. "The reason why I was anxious about you was +that I had written you a letter. I wrote some weeks ago to your address +in Paris and got no answer." + +"You wrote?" Maria Consuelo seemed surprised. "I have not been in Paris. +Who gave you the address? What was it?" + +Orsino named the street and the number. + +"I once lived there a short time, two years ago. Who gave you the +address? Not Count Spicca?" + +"No." + +Orsino hesitated to say more. He did not like to admit that he had +received the address from Maria Consuelo's maid, and it might seem +incredible that the woman should have given the information unasked. At +the same time the fact that the address was to all intents and purposes +a false one tallied with the maid's spontaneous statement in regard to +her mistress's mental alienation. + +"Why will you not tell me?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +"The answer involves a question which does not concern me. The address +was evidently intended to deceive me. The person who gave it attempted +to deceive me about a far graver matter, too. Let us say no more about +it. Of course you never got the letter?" + +"Of course not." + +A short silence followed which Orsino felt to be rather awkward. Maria +Consuelo looked at him suddenly. + +"Did my maid tell you?" she asked. + +"Yes--since you ask me. She met me in the corridor after my last visit +and thrust the address upon me." + +"I thought so," said Maria Consuelo. + +"You have suspected her before?" + +"What was the other deception?" + +"That is a more serious matter. The woman is your trusted servant. At +least you must have trusted her when you took her--" + +"That does not follow. What did she try to make you believe?" + +"It is hard to tell you. For all I know, she may have been +instructed--you may have instructed her yourself. One stumbles upon odd +things in life, sometimes." + +"You called yourself my friend once, Don Orsino." + +"If you will let me, I will call myself so still." + +"Then, in the name of friendship, tell me what the woman said!" Maria +Consuelo spoke with sudden energy, touching his arm quickly with an +unconscious gesture. + +"Will you believe me?" + +"Are you accustomed to being doubted, that you ask?" + +"No. But this thing is very strange." + +"Do not keep me waiting--it hurts me!" + +"The woman stopped me as I was going away. I had never spoken to her. +She knew my name. She told me that you were--how shall I say?--mentally +deranged." + +Maria Consuelo started and turned very pale. + +"She told you that I was mad?" Her voice sank to a whisper. + +"That is what she said." + +Orsino watched her narrowly. She evidently believed him. Then she sank +back in her chair with a stifled cry of horror, covering her eyes with +her hands. + +"And you might have believed it!" she exclaimed. "You might really have +believed it--you!" + +The cry came from her heart and would have shown Orsino what weight she +still attached to his opinion had he not himself been too suddenly and +deeply interested in the principal question to pay attention to details. + +"She made the statement very clearly," he said. "What could have been +her object in the lie?" + +"What object? Ah--if I knew that--" + +Maria Consuelo rose and paced the room, her head bent and her hands +nervously clasping and unclasping. Orsino stood by the empty fireplace, +watching her. + +"You will send the woman away of course?" he said, in a questioning +tone. + +But she shook her head and her anxiety seemed to increase. + +"Is it possible that you will submit to such a thing from a servant?" he +asked in astonishment. + +"I have submitted to much," she answered in a low voice. + +"The inevitable, of course. But to keep a maid whom you can turn away at +any moment--" + +"Yes--but can I?" She stopped and looked at him. "Oh, if I only +could--if you knew how I hate the woman--" + +"But then--" + +"Yes?" + +"Do you mean to tell me that you are in some way in her power, so that +you are bound to keep her always?" + +Maria Consuelo hesitated a moment. + +"Are you in her power?" asked Orsino a second time. He did not like the +idea and his black brows bent themselves rather angrily. + +"No--not directly. She is imposed upon me." + +"By circumstances?" + +"No, again. By a person who has the power to impose much upon me--but +this! Oh this is almost too much! To be called mad!" + +"Then do not submit to it." + +Orsino spoke decisively, with a kind of authority which surprised +himself. He was amazed and righteously angry at the situation so +suddenly revealed to him, undefined as it was. He saw that he was +touching a great trouble and his natural energy bid him lay violent +hands on it and root it out if possible. + +For some minutes Maria Consuelo did not speak, but continued to pace the +room, evidently in great anxiety. Then she stopped before him. + +"It is easy for you to say, 'do not submit,' when you do not +understand," she said. "If you knew what my life is, you would look at +this in another way. I must submit--I cannot do otherwise." + +"If you would tell me something more, I might help you," answered +Orsino. + +"You?" She paused. "I believe you would, if you could," she added, +thoughtfully. + +"You know that I would. Perhaps I can, as it is, in ignorance, if you +will direct me." + +A sudden light gleamed in Maria Consuelo's eyes and then died away as +quickly as it had come. + +"After all, what could you do?" she asked with a change of tone, as +though she were somehow disappointed. "What could you do that others +would not do as well, if they could, and with a better right?" + +"Unless you will tell me, how can I know?" + +"Yes--if I could tell you." + +She went and sat down in her former seat and Orsino took a chair beside +her. He had expected to renew the acquaintance in a very different way, +and that he should spend half an hour with Maria Consuelo in talking +about apartments, about the heat and about the places she had visited. +Instead, circumstances had made the conversation an intimate one full of +an absorbing interest to both. Orsino found that he had forgotten much +which pleased him strangely now that it was again brought before him. He +had forgotten most of all, it seemed, that an unexplained sympathy +attracted him to her, and her to him. He wondered at the strength of it, +and found it hard to understand that last meeting with her in the +spring. + +"Is there any way of helping you, without knowing your secret?" he asked +in a low voice. + +"No. But I thank you for the wish." + +"Are you sure there is no way? Quite sure?" + +"Quite sure." + +"May I say something that strikes me?" + +"Say anything you choose." + +"There is a plot against you. You seem to know it. Have you never +thought of plotting on your side?" + +"I have no one to help me." + +"You have me, if you will take my help. And you have Spicca. You might +do better, but you might do worse. Between us we might accomplish +something." + +Maria Consuelo had started at Spicca's name. She seemed very nervous +that day. + +"Do you know what you are saying?" she asked after a moment's thought. + +"Nothing that should offend you, at least." + +"No. But you are proposing that I should ally myself with the man of all +others whom I have reason to hate." + +"You hate Spicca?" Orsino was passing from one surprise to another. + +"Whether I hate him or not, is another matter. I ought to." + +"At all events he does not hate you." + +"I know he does not. That makes it no easier for me. I could not accept +his help." + +"All this is so mysterious that I do not know what to say," said Orsino, +thoughtfully. "The fact remains, and it is bad enough. You need help +urgently. You are in the power of a servant who tells your friends that +you are insane and thrusts false addresses upon them, for purposes which +I cannot explain." + +"Nor I either, though I may guess." + +"It is worse and worse. You cannot even be sure of the motives of this +woman, though you know the person or persons by whom she is forced upon +you. You cannot get rid of her yourself and you will not let any one +else help you." + +"Not Count Spicca." + +"And yet I am sure that he would do much for you. Can you not even tell +me why you hate him, or ought to hate him?" + +Maria Consuelo hesitated and looked into Orsino's eyes for a moment. + +"Can I trust you?" she asked. + +"Implicitly." + +"He killed my husband." + +Orsino uttered a low exclamation of horror. In the deep silence which +followed he heard Maria Consuelo draw her breath once or twice sharply +through her closed teeth, as though she were in great pain. + +"I do not wish it known," she said presently, in a changed voice. "I do +not know why I told you." + +"You can trust me." + +"I must--since I have spoken." + +In the surprise caused by the startling confidence, Orsino suddenly felt +that his capacity for sympathy had grown to great dimensions. If he had +been a woman, the tears would have stood in his eyes. Being what he was, +he felt them in his heart. It was clear that she had loved the dead man +very dearly. In the light of this evident fact, it was hard to explain +her conduct towards Orsino during the winter and especially at their +last meeting. + +For a long time neither spoke again. Orsino, indeed, had nothing to say +at first, for nothing he could say could reasonably be supposed to be of +any use. He had learned the existence of something like a tragedy in +Maria Consuelo's life, and he seemed to be learning the first lesson of +friendship, which teaches sympathy. It was not an occasion for making +insignificant phrases expressing his regret at her loss, and the +language he needed in order to say what he meant was unfamiliar to his +lips. He was silent, therefore, but his young face was grave and +thoughtful, and his eyes sought hers from time to time as though trying +to discover and forestall her wishes. At last she glanced at him +quickly, then looked down, and at last spoke to him. + +"You will not make me regret having told you this--will you?" she asked. + +"No. I promise you that." + +So far as Orsino could understand the words meant very little. He was +not very communicative, as a rule, and would certainly not tell what he +had heard, so that the promise was easily given and easy to keep. If he +did not break it, he did not see that she could have any further cause +for regretting her confidence in him. Nevertheless, by way of reassuring +her, he thought it best to repeat what he had said in different words. + +"You may be quite sure that whatever you choose to tell me is in safe +keeping," he said. "And you may be sure, too, that if it is in my power +to do you a service of any kind, you will find me ready, and more than +ready, to help you." + +"Thank you," she answered, looking earnestly at him. + +"Whether the matter be small or great," he added, meeting her eyes. + +Perhaps she expected to find more curiosity on his part, and fancied +that he would ask some further question. He did not understand the +meaning of her look. + +"I believe you," she said at last. "I am too much in need of a friend to +doubt you." + +"You have found one." + +"I do not know. I am not sure. There are other things--" she stopped +suddenly and looked away. + +"What other things?" + +But Maria Consuelo did not answer. Orsino knew that she was thinking of +all that had once passed between them. He wondered whether, if he led +the way, she would press him as she had done at their last meeting. If +she did, he wondered what he should say. He had been very cold then, far +colder than he was now. He now felt drawn to her, as in the first days +of their acquaintance. He felt always that he was on the point of +understanding her, and yet that he was waiting, for something which +should help him to pass that point. + +"What other things?" he asked, repeating his question. "Do you mean that +there are reasons which may prevent me from being a good friend of +yours?" + +"I am afraid there are. I do not know." + +"I think you are mistaken, Madame. Will you name some of those +reasons--or even one?" + +Maria Consuelo did not answer at once. She glanced at him, looked down, +and then her eyes met his again. + +"Do you think that you are the kind of man a woman chooses for her +friend?" she asked at length, with a faint smile. + +"I have not thought of the matter--" + +"But you should--before offering your friendship." + +"Why? If I feel a sincere sympathy for your trouble, if I am--" he +hesitated, weighing his words--"if I am personally attached to you, why +can I not help you? I am honest, and in earnest. May I say as much as +that of myself?" + +"I believe you are." + +"Then I cannot see that I am not the sort of man whom a woman might take +for a friend when a better is not at hand." + +"And do you believe in friendship, Don Orsino?" asked Maria Consuelo +quietly. + +"I have heard it said that it is not wise to disbelieve anything +nowadays," answered Orsino. + +"True--and the word 'friend' has such a pretty sound!" She laughed, for +the first time since he had entered the room. + +"Then it is you who are the unbeliever, Madame. Is not that a sign that +you need no friend at all, and that your questions are not seriously +meant?" + +"Perhaps. Who knows?" + +"Do you know, yourself?" + +"No." Again she laughed a little, and then grew suddenly grave. + +"I never knew a woman who needed a friend more urgently than you do," +said Orsino. "I do not in the least understand your position. The little +you have told me makes it clear enough that there have been and still +are unusual circumstances in your life. One thing I see. That woman whom +you call your maid is forced upon you against your will, to watch you, +and is privileged to tell lies about you which may do you a great +injury. I do not ask why you are obliged to suffer her presence, but I +see that you must, and I guess that you hate it. Would it be an act of +friendship to free you from her or not?" + +"At present it would not be an act of friendship," answered Maria +Consuelo, thoughtfully. + +"That is very strange. Do you mean to say that you submit voluntarily--" + +"The woman is a condition imposed upon me. I cannot tell you more." + +"And no friend, no friendly help can change the condition, I suppose." + +"I did not say that. But such help is beyond your power, Don Orsino," +she added turning towards him rather suddenly. "Let us not talk of this +any more. Believe me, nothing can be done. You have sometimes acted +strangely with me, but I really think you would help me if you could. +Let that be the state of our acquaintance. You are willing, and I +believe that you are. Nothing more. Let that be our compact. But you can +perhaps help me in another way--a smaller way. I want a habitation of +some kind for the winter, for I am tired of camping out in hotels. You +who know your own city so well can name some person who will undertake +the matter." + +"I know the very man," said Orsino promptly. + +"Will you write out the address for me?" + +"It is not necessary. I mean myself." + +"I could not let you take so much trouble," protested Maria Consuelo. + +But she accepted, nevertheless, after a little hesitation. For some time +they discussed the relative advantages of the various habitable quarters +of the city, both glad, perhaps, to find an almost indifferent subject +of conversation, and both relatively happy merely in being together. The +talk made one of those restful interludes which are so necessary, and +often so hard to produce, between two people whose thoughts run upon a +strong common interest, and who find it difficult to exchange half a +dozen words without being led back to the absorbing topic. + +What had been said had produced a decided effect upon Orsino. He had +come expecting to take up the acquaintance on a new footing, but ten +minutes had not elapsed before he had found himself as much interested +as ever in Maria Consuelo's personality, and far more interested in her +life than he had ever been before. While talking with more or less +indifference about the chances of securing a suitable apartment for the +winter, Orsino listened with an odd sensation of pleasure to every tone +of his companion's voice and watched every changing expression of the +striking face. He wondered whether he were not perhaps destined to love +her sincerely as he had already loved her in a boyish, capricious +fashion which would no longer be natural to him now. But for the present +he was sure that he did not love her, and that he desired nothing but +her sympathy for himself, and to feel sympathy for her. Those were the +words he used, and he did not explain them to his own intelligence in +any very definite way. He was conscious, indeed, that they meant more +than formerly, but the same was true of almost everything that came into +his life, and he did not therefore attach any especial importance to the +fact. He was altogether much more in earnest than when he had first met +Maria Consuelo; he was capable of deeper feeling, of stronger +determination and of more decided action in all matters, and though he +did not say so to himself he was none the less aware of the change. + +"Shall we make an appointment for to-morrow?" he asked, after they had +been talking some time. + +"Yes--but there is one thing I wanted to ask you--" + +"What is that?" inquired Orsino, seeing that she hesitated. + +The faint colour rose in her cheeks, but she looked straight into his +eyes, with a kind of fearless expression, as though she were facing a +danger. + +"Tell me," she said, "in Rome, where everything is known and every one +talks so much, will it not be thought strange that you and I should be +driving about together, looking for a house for me? Tell me the truth." + +"What can people say?" asked Orsino. + +"Many things. Will they say them?" + +"If they do, I can make them stop talking." + +"That means that they will talk, does it not? Would you like that?" + +There was a sudden change in her face, with a look of doubt and anxious +perplexity. Orsino saw it and felt that she was putting him upon his +honour, and that whatever the doubt might be it had nothing to do with +her trust in him. Six months earlier he would not have hesitated to +demonstrate that her fears were empty--but he felt that six months +earlier she might not have yielded to his reasoning. It was instinctive, +but his instinct was not mistaken. + +"I think you are right," he said slowly. "We should not do it. I will +send my architect with you." + +There was enough regret in the tone to show that he was making a +considerable sacrifice. A little delicacy means more when it comes from +a strong man, than when it is the natural expression of an over-refined +and somewhat effeminate character. And Orsino was rapidly developing a +strength of which other people were conscious. Maria Consuelo was +pleased, though she, too, was perhaps sorry to give up the projected +plan. + +"After all," she said, thoughtlessly, "you can come and see me here, +if--" + +She stopped and blushed again, more deeply this time; but she turned her +face away and in the half light the change of colour was hardly +noticeable. + +"You were going to say 'if you care to see me,'" said Orsino. "I am glad +you did not say it. It would not have been kind." + +"Yes--I was going to say that," she answered quietly. "But I will not." + +"Thank you." + +"Why do you thank me?" + +"For not hurting me." + +"Do you think that I would hurt you willingly, in any way?" + +"I would rather not think so. You did once." + +The words slipped from his lips almost before he had time to realise +what they meant. He was thinking of the night when she had drawn up the +carriage window, leaving him standing on the pavement, and of her +repeated refusals to see him afterwards. It seemed long ago, and the +hurt had not really been so sharp as he now fancied that it must have +been, judging from what he now felt. She looked at him quickly as though +wondering what he would say next. + +"I never meant to be unkind," she said. "I have often asked myself +whether you could say as much." + +It was Orsino's turn to change colour. He was young enough for that, +and the blood rose slowly in his dark cheeks. He thought again of their +last meeting, and of what he had heard as he shut the door after him on +that day. Perhaps he would have spoken, but Maria Consuelo was sorry for +what she had said, and a little ashamed of her weakness, as indeed she +had some cause to be, and she immediately turned back to a former point +of the conversation, not too far removed from what had last been said. + +"You see," said she, "I was right to ask you whether people would talk. +And I am grateful to you for telling me the truth. It is a first proof +of friendship--of something better than our old relations. Will you send +me your architect to-morrow, since you are so kind as to offer his +help?" + +After arranging for the hour of meeting Orsino rose to take his leave. + +"May I come to-morrow?" he asked. "People will not talk about that," he +added with a smile. + +"You can ask for me. I may be out. If I am at home, I shall be glad to +see you." + +She spoke coldly, and Orsino saw that she was looking over his shoulder. +He turned instinctively and saw that the door was open and Spicca was +standing just outside, looking in and apparently waiting for a word from +Maria Consuelo before entering. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + + +As Orsino had no reason whatever for avoiding Spicca he naturally waited +a moment instead of leaving the room immediately. He looked at the old +man with a new interest as the latter came forward. He had never seen +and probably would never see again a man taking the hand of a woman +whose husband he had destroyed. He stood a little back and Spicca +passed him as he met Maria Consuelo. Orsino watched the faces of both. + +Madame d'Aranjuez put out her hand mechanically and with evident +reluctance, and Orsino guessed that but for his own presence she would +not have given it. The expression in her face changed rapidly from that +which had been there when they had been alone, hardening very quickly +until it reminded Orsino of a certain mask of the Medusa which had once +made an impression upon his imagination. Her eyes were fixed and the +pupils grew small while the singular golden yellow colour of the iris +flashed disagreeably. She did not bend her head as she silently gave her +hand. + +Spicca, too, seemed momentarily changed. He was as pale and thin as +ever, but his face softened oddly; certain lines which contributed to +his usually bitter and sceptical expression disappeared, while others +became visible which changed his look completely. He bowed with more +deference than he affected with other women, and Orsino fancied that he +would have held Maria Consuelo's hand a moment longer, if she had not +withdrawn it as soon as it had touched his. + +If Orsino had not already known that Spicca often saw her, he would have +been amazed at the count's visit, considering what she had said of the +man. As it was, he wondered what power Spicca had over her to oblige her +to receive him, and he wondered in vain. The conclusion which forced +itself before him was that Spicca was the person who imposed the serving +woman upon Maria Consuelo. But her behaviour towards him, on the other +hand, was not that of a person obliged by circumstances to submit to the +caprices and dictation of another. Judging by the appearance of the two, +it seemed more probable that the power was on the other side, and might +be used mercilessly on occasion. + +"I hope I am not disturbing your plans," said Spicca, in a tone which +was almost humble, and very unlike his usual voice. "Were you going out +together?" + +He shook hands with Orsino, avoiding his glance, as the young man +thought. + +"No," answered Maria Consuelo briefly. "I was not going out." + +"I am just going away," said Orsino by way of explanation, and he made +as though he would take his leave. + +"Do not go yet," said Maria Consuelo. Her look made the words +imperative. + +Spicca glanced from one to the other with a sort of submissive protest, +and then all three sat down. Orsino wondered what part he was expected +to play in the trio, and wished himself away in spite of the interest he +felt in the situation. + +Maria Consuelo began to talk in a careless tone which reminded him of +his first meeting with her in Gouache's studio. She told Spicca that +Orsino had promised her his architect as a guide in her search for a +lodging. + +"What sort of person is he?" inquired Spicca, evidently for the sake of +making conversation. + +"Contini is a man of business," Orsino answered. "An odd fellow, full of +talent, and a musical genius. One would not expect very much of him at +first, but he will do all that Madame d'Aranjuez needs." + +"Otherwise you would not have recommended him, I suppose," said Spicca. + +"Certainly not," replied Orsino, looking at him. + +"You must know, Madame," said Spicca, "that Don Orsino is an excellent +judge of men." + +He emphasised the last word in a way that seemed unnecessary. Maria +Consuelo had recovered all her equanimity and laughed carelessly. + +"How you say that!" she exclaimed. "Is it a warning?" + +"Against what?" asked Orsino. + +"Probably against you," she said. "Count Spicca likes to throw out vague +hints--but I will do him the credit to say that they generally mean +something." She added the last words rather scornfully. + +An expression of pain passed over the old man's face. But he said +nothing, though it was not like him to pass by a challenge of the kind. +Without in the least understanding the reason of the sensation, Orsino +felt sorry for him. + +"Among men, Count Spicca's opinion is worth having," he said quietly. + +Maria Consuelo looked at him in some surprise. The phrase sounded like a +rebuke, and her eyes betrayed her annoyance. + +"How delightful it is to hear one man defend another!" she laughed. + +"I fancy Count Spicca does not stand much in need of defence," replied +Orsino, without changing his tone. + +"He himself is the best judge of that." + +Spicca raised his weary eyes to hers and looked at her for a moment, +before he answered. + +"Yes," he said. "I think I am the best judge. But I am not accustomed to +being defended, least of all against you, Madame. The sensation is a new +one." + +Orsino felt himself out of place. He was more warmly attached to Spicca +than he knew, and though he was at that time not far removed from loving +Maria Consuelo, her tone in speaking to the old man, which said far more +than her words, jarred upon him, and he could not help taking his +friend's part. On the other hand the ugly truth that Spicca had caused +the death of Aranjuez more than justified Maria Consuelo in her hatred. +Behind all, there was evidently some good reason why Spicca came to see +her, and there was some bond between the two which made it impossible +for her to refuse his visits. It was clear too, that though she hated +him he felt some kind of strong affection for her. In her presence he +was very unlike his daily self. + +Again Orsino moved and looked at her, as though asking her permission to +go away. But she refused it with an imperative gesture and a look of +annoyance. She evidently did not wish to be left alone with the old +man. Without paying any further attention to the latter she began to +talk to Orsino. She took no trouble to conceal what she felt and the +impression grew upon Orsino that Spicca would have gone away after a +quarter of an hour, if he had not either possessed a sort of right to +stay or if he had not had some important object in view in remaining. + +"I suppose there is nothing to do in Rome at this time of year," she +said. + +Orsino told her that there was absolutely nothing to do. Not a theatre +was open, not a friend was in town. Rome was a wilderness. Rome was an +amphitheatre on a day when there was no performance, when the lions were +asleep, the gladiators drinking, and the martyrs unoccupied. He tried to +say something amusing and found it hard. + +Spicca was very patient, but evidently determined to outstay Orsino. +From time to time he made a remark, to which Maria Consuelo paid very +little attention if she took any notice of it at all. Orsino could not +make up his mind whether to stay or to go. The latter course would +evidently displease Maria Consuelo, whereas by remaining he was clearly +annoying Spicca and was perhaps causing him pain. It was a nice +question, and while trying to make conversation he weighed the arguments +in his mind. Strange to say he decided in favour of Spicca. The decision +was to some extent an index of the state of his feelings towards Madame +d'Aranjuez. If he had been quite in love with her, he would have stayed. +If he had wished to make her love him, he would have stayed also. As it +was, his friendship for the old count went before other considerations. +At the same time he hoped to manage matters so as not to incur Maria +Consuelo's displeasure. He found it harder than he had expected. After +he had made up his mind, he continued to talk during three or four +minutes and then made his excuse. + +"I must be going," he said quietly. "I have a number of things to do +before night, and I must see Contini in order to give him time to make +a list of apartments for you to see to-morrow." + +He took his hat and rose. He was not prepared for Maria Consuelo's +answer. + +"I asked you to stay," she said, coldly and very distinctly. + +Spicca did not allow his expression to change. Orsino stared at her. + +"I am very sorry, Madame, but there are many reasons which oblige me to +disobey you." + +Maria Consuelo bit her lip and her eyes gleamed angrily. She glanced at +Spicca as though hoping that he would go away with Orsino. But he did +not move. It was more and more clear that he had a right to stay if he +pleased. Orsino was already bowing before her. Instead of giving her +hand she rose quickly and led him towards the door. He opened it and +they stood together on the threshold. + +"Is this the way you help me?" she asked, almost fiercely, though in a +whisper. + +"Why do you receive him at all?" he inquired, instead of answering. + +"Because I cannot refuse." + +"But you might send him away?" + +She hesitated, and looked into his eyes. + +"Shall I?" + +"If you wish to be alone--and if you can. It is no affair of mine." + +She turned swiftly, leaving Orsino standing in the door and went to +Spicca's side. He had risen when she rose and was standing at the other +side of the room, watching. + +"I have a bad headache," she said coldly. "You will forgive me if I ask +you to go with Don Orsino." + +"A lady's invitation to leave her house, Madame, is the only one which a +man cannot refuse," said Spicca gravely. + +He bowed and followed Orsino out of the room, closing the door behind +him. The scene had produced a very disagreeable impression upon Orsino. +Had he not known the worst part of the secret and consequently +understood what good cause Maria Consuelo had for not wishing to be +alone with Spicca, he would have been utterly revolted and for ever +repelled by her brutality. No other word could express adequately her +conduct towards the count. Even knowing what he did, he wished that she +had controlled her temper better and he was more than ever sorry for +Spicca. It did not even cross his mind that the latter might have +intentionally provoked Aranjuez and killed him purposely. He felt +somehow that Spicca was in a measure the injured party and must have +been in that position from the beginning, whatever the strange story +might be. As the two descended the steps together Orsino glanced at his +companion's pale, drawn features and was sure that the man was to be +pitied. It was almost a womanly instinct, far too delicate for such a +hardy nature, and dependent perhaps upon that sudden opening of his +sympathies which resulted from meeting Maria Consuelo. I think that, on +the whole, in such cases, though the woman's character may be formed by +intimacy with man's, with apparent results, the impression upon the man +is momentarily deeper, as the woman's gentler instincts are in a way +reflected in his heart. + +Spicca recovered himself quickly, however. He took out his case and +offered Orsino a cigarette. + +"So you have renewed your acquaintance," he said quietly. + +"Yes--under rather odd circumstances," answered Orsino. "I feel as +though I owed you an apology, Count, and yet I do not see what there is +to apologise for. I tried to go away more than once." + +"You cannot possibly make excuses to me for Madame d'Aranjuez's +peculiarities, my friend. Besides, I admit that she has a right to treat +me as she pleases. That does not prevent me from going to see her every +day." + +"You must have strong reasons for bearing such treatment." + +"I have," answered Spicca thoughtfully and sadly. "Very strong reasons. +I will tell you one of those which brought me to-day. I wished to see +you two together." + +Orsino stopped in his walk, after the manner of Italians, and he looked +at Spicca. He was hot tempered when provoked, and he might have resented +the speech if it had come from any other man. But he spoke quietly. + +"Why do you wish to see us together?" he asked. + +"Because I am foolish enough to think sometimes that you suit one +another, and might love one another." + +Probably nothing which Spicca could have said could have surprised +Orsino more than such a plain statement. He grew suspicious at once, but +Spicca's look was that of a man in earnest. + +"I do not think I understand you," answered Orsino. "But I think you are +touching a subject which is better left alone." + +"I think not," returned Spicca unmoved. + +"Then let us agree to differ," said Orsino a little more warmly. + +"We cannot do that. I am in a position to make you agree with me, and I +will. I am responsible for that lady's happiness. I am responsible +before God and man." + +Something in the words made a deep impression upon Orsino. He had never +heard Spicca use anything approaching to solemn language before. He knew +at least one part of the meaning which showed Spicca's remorse for +having killed Aranjuez, and he knew that the old man meant what he said, +and meant it from his heart. + +"Do you understand me now?" asked Spicca, slowly inhaling the smoke of +his cigarette. + +"Not altogether. If you desire the happiness of Madame d'Aranjuez why do +you wish us to fall in love with each other? It strikes me that--" he +stopped. + +"Because I wish you would marry her." + +"Marry her!" Orsino had not thought of that, and his words expressed a +surprise which was not calculated to please Spicca. + +The old man's weary eyes suddenly grew keen and fierce and Orsino could +hardly meet their look. Spicca's nervous fingers seized the young man's +tough arm and closed upon it with surprising force. + +"I would advise you to think of that possibility before making any more +visits," he said, his weak voice suddenly clearing. "We were talking +together a few weeks ago. Do you remember what I said I would do to any +man by whom harm comes to her? Yes, you remember well enough. I know +what you answered, and I daresay you meant it. But I was in earnest, +too." + +"I think you are threatening me, Count Spicca," said Orsino, flushing +slowly but meeting the other's look with unflinching coolness. + +"No. I am not. And I will not let you quarrel with me, either, Orsino. I +have a right to say this to you where she is concerned--a right you do +not dream of. You cannot quarrel about that." + +Orsino did not answer at once. He saw that Spicca was very much in +earnest, and was surprised that his manner now should be less calm and +collected than on the occasion of their previous conversation, when the +count had taken enough wine to turn the heads of most men. He did not +doubt in the least the statement Spicca made. It agreed exactly with +what Maria Consuelo herself had said of him. And the statement certainly +changed the face of the situation. Orsino admitted to himself that he +had never before thought of marrying Madame d'Aranjuez. He had not even +taken into consideration the consequences of loving her and of being +loved by her in return. The moment he thought of a possible marriage as +the result of such a mutual attachment, he realised the enormous +difficulties which stood in the way of such a union, and his first +impulse was to give up visiting her altogether. What Spicca said was at +once reasonable and unreasonable. Maria Consuelo's husband was dead, and +she doubtless expected to marry again. Orsino had no right to stand in +the way of others who might present themselves as suitors. But it was +beyond belief that Spicca should expect Orsino to marry her himself, +knowing Rome and the Romans as he did. + +The two had been standing still in the shade. Orsino began to walk +forward again before he spoke. Something in his own reflexions shocked +him. He did not like to think that an impassable social barrier existed +between Maria Consuelo and himself. Yet, in his total ignorance of her +origin and previous life the stories which had been circulated about her +recalled themselves with unpleasant distinctness. Nothing that Spicca +had said when they had dined together had made the matter any clearer, +though the assurance that the deceased Aranjuez had come to his end by +Spicca's instrumentality sufficiently contradicted the worst, if also +the least credible, point in the tales which had been repeated by the +gossips early in the previous winter. All the rest belonged entirely to +the category of the unknown. Yet Spicca spoke seriously of a possible +marriage and had gone to the length of wishing that it might be brought +about. At last Orsino spoke. + +"You say that you have a right to say what you have said," he began. "In +that case I think I have a right to ask a question which you ought to +answer. You talk of my marrying Madame d'Aranjuez. You ought to tell me +whether that is possible." + +"Possible?" cried Spicca almost angrily. "What do you mean?" + +"I mean this. You know us all, as you know me. You know the enormous +prejudices in which we are brought up. You know perfectly well that +although I am ready to laugh at some of them, there are others at which +I do not laugh. Yet you refused to tell me who Madame d'Aranjuez was, +when I asked you, the other day. I do not even know her father's name, +much less her mother's--" + +"No," answered Spicca. "That is quite true, and I see no necessity for +telling you either. But, as you say, you have some right to ask. I will +tell you this much. There is nothing in the circumstances of her birth +which could hinder her marriage into any honourable family. Does that +satisfy you?" + +Orsino saw that whether he were satisfied or not he was to get no +further information for the present. He might believe Spicca's statement +or not, as he pleased, but he knew that whatever the peculiarities of +the melancholy old duellist's character might be, he never took the +trouble to invent a falsehood and was as ready as ever to support his +words. On this occasion no one could have doubted him, for there was an +unusual ring of sincere feeling in what he said. Orsino could not help +wondering what the tie between him and Madame d'Aranjuez could be, for +it evidently had the power to make Spicca submit without complaint to +something worse than ordinary unkindness and to make him defend on all +occasions the name and character of the woman who treated him so +harshly. It must be a very close bond, Orsino thought. Spicca acted very +much like a man who loves very sincerely and quite hopelessly. There was +something very sad in the idea that he perhaps loved Maria Consuelo, at +his age, broken down as he was, and old before his time. The contrast +between them was so great that it must have been grotesque if it had not +been pathetic. + +Little more passed between the two men on that day, before they +separated. To Spicca, Orsino seemed indifferent, and the older man's +reticence after his sudden outburst did not tend to prolong the meeting. + +Orsino went in search of Contini and explained what was needed of him. +He was to make a brief list of desirable apartments to let and was to +accompany Madame d'Aranjuez on the following morning in order to see +them. + +Contini was delighted and set out about the work at once. Perhaps he +secretly hoped that the lady might be induced to take a part of one of +the new houses, but the idea had nothing to do with his satisfaction. He +was to spend several hours in the sole society of a lady, of a genuine +lady who was, moreover, young and beautiful. He read the little morning +paper too assiduously not to have noticed the name and pondered over the +descriptions of Madame d'Aranjuez on the many occasions when she had +been mentioned by the reporters during the previous year. He was too +young and too thoroughly Italian not to appreciate the good fortune +which now fell into his way, and he promised himself a morning of +uninterrupted enjoyment. He wondered whether the lady could be induced, +by excessive fatigue and thirst to accept a water ice at Nazzari's, and +he planned his list of apartments in such a way as to bring her to the +neighbourhood of the Piazza di Spagna at an hour when the proposition, +might seem most agreeable and natural. + +Orsino stayed in the office during the hot September morning, busying +himself with the endless details of which he was now master, and +thinking from time to time of Maria Consuelo. He intended to go and see +her in the afternoon, and he, like Contini, planned what he should do +and say. But his plans were all unsatisfactory, and once he found +himself staring at the blank wall opposite his table in a state of idle +abstraction long unfamiliar to him. + +Soon after twelve o'clock, Contini came back, hot and radiant. Maria +Consuelo had refused the water ice, but the charm of her manner had +repaid the architect for the disappointment. Orsino asked whether she +had decided upon any dwelling. + +"She has taken the apartment in the Palazzo Barberini," answered +Contini. "I suppose she will bring her family in the autumn." + +"Her family? She has none. She is alone." + +"Alone in that place! How rich she must be!" Contini found the remains +of a cigar somewhere and lighted it thoughtfully. + +"I do not know whether she is rich or not," said Orsino. "I never +thought about it." + +He began to work at his books again, while Contini sat down and fanned +himself with a bundle of papers. + +"She admires you very much, Don Orsino," said the latter, after a pause. +Orsino looked up sharply. + +"What do you mean by that?" he asked. + +"I mean that she talked of nothing but you, and in the most flattering +way." + +In the oddly close intimacy which had grown up between the two men it +did not seem strange that Orsino should smile at speeches which he would +not have liked if they had come from any one but the poor architect. + +"What did she say?" he asked with idle curiosity. + +"She said it was wonderful to think what you had done. That of all the +Roman princes you were the only one who had energy and character enough +to throw over the old prejudices and take an occupation. That it was all +the more creditable because you had done it from moral reasons and not +out of necessity or love of money. And she said a great many other +things of the same kind." + +"Oh!" ejaculated Orsino, looking at the wall opposite. + +"It is a pity she is a widow," observed Contini. + +"Why?" + +"She would make such a beautiful princess." + +"You must be mad, Contini!" exclaimed Orsino, half-pleased and +half-irritated. "Do not talk of such follies." + +"All well! Forgive me," answered the architect a little humbly. "I am +not you, you know, and my head is not yours--nor my name--nor my heart +either." + +Contini sighed, puffed at his cigar and took up some papers. He was +already a little in love with Maria Consuelo, and the idea that any man +might marry her if he pleased, but would not, was incomprehensible to +him. + +The day wore on. Orsino finished his work as thoroughly as though he +had been a paid clerk, put everything in order and went away. Late in +the afternoon he went to see Maria Consuelo. He knew that she would +usually be already out at that hour, and he fancied that he was leaving +something to chance in the matter of finding her, though an +unacknowledged instinct told him that she would stay at home after the +fatigue of the morning. + +"We shall not be interrupted by Count Spicca to-day," she said, as he +sat down beside her. + +In spite of what he knew, the hard tone of her voice roused again in +Orsino that feeling of pity for the old man which he had felt on the +previous day. + +"Does it not seem to you," he asked, "that if you receive him at all, +you might at least conceal something of your hatred for him?" + +"Why should I? Have you forgotten what I told you yesterday?" + +"It would be hard to forget that, though you told me no details. But it +is not easy to imagine how you can see him at all if he killed your +husband deliberately in a duel." + +"It is impossible to put the case more plainly!" exclaimed Maria +Consuelo. + +"Do I offend you?" + +"No. Not exactly." + +"Forgive me, if I do. If Spicca, as I suppose, was the unwilling cause +of your great loss, he is much to be pitied. I am not sure that he does +not deserve almost as much pity as you do." + +"How can you say that--even if the rest were true?" + +"Think of what he must suffer. He is devotedly attached to you." + +"I know he is. You have told me that before, and I have given you the +same answer. I want neither his attachment nor his devotion." + +"Then refuse to see him." + +"I cannot." + +"We come back to the same point again," said Orsino. + +"We always shall, if you talk about this. There is no other issue. +Things are what they are and I cannot change them." + +"Do you know," said Orsino, "that all this mystery is a very serious +hindrance to friendship?" + +Maria Consuelo was silent for a moment. + +"Is it?" she asked presently. "Have you always thought so?" + +The question was a hard one to answer. + +"You have always seemed mysterious to me," answered Orsino. "Perhaps +that is a great attraction. But instead of learning the truth about you, +I am finding out that there are more and more secrets in your life which +I must not know." + +"Why should you know them?" + +"Because--" Orsino checked himself, almost with a start. + +He was annoyed at the words which had been so near his lips, for he had +been on the point of saying "because I love you"--and he was intimately +convinced that he did not love her. He could not in the least understand +why the phrase was so ready to be spoken. Could it be, he asked himself, +that Maria Consuelo was trying to make him say the words, and that her +will, with her question, acted directly on his mind? He scouted the +thought as soon as it presented itself, not only for its absurdity, but +because it shocked some inner sensibility. + +"What were you going to say?" asked Madame d'Aranjuez almost carelessly. + +"Something that is best not said," he answered. + +"Then I am glad you did not say it." + +She spoke quietly and unaffectedly. It needed little divination on her +part to guess what the words might have been. Even if she wished them +spoken, she would not have them spoken too lightly, for she had heard +his love speeches before, when they had meant very little. + +Orsino suddenly turned the subject, as though he felt unsure of himself. +He asked her about the result of her search, in the morning. She +answered that she had determined to take the apartment in the Palazzo +Barberini. + +"I believe it is a very large place," observed Orsino, indifferently. + +"Yes," she answered in the same tone. "I mean to receive this winter. +But it will be a tiresome affair to furnish such a wilderness." + +"I suppose you mean to establish yourself in Rome for several years." +His face expressed a satisfaction of which he was hardly conscious +himself. Maria Consuelo noticed it. + +"You seem pleased," she said. + +"How could I possibly not be?" he asked. + +Then he was silent. All his own words seemed to him to mean too much or +too little. He wished she would choose some subject of conversation and +talk that he might listen. But she also was unusually silent. + +He cut his visit short, very suddenly, and left her, saying that he +hoped to find her at home as a general rule at that hour, quite +forgetting that she would naturally be always out at the cool time +towards evening. + +He walked slowly homewards in the dusk, and did not remember to go to +his solitary dinner until nearly nine o'clock. He was not pleased with +himself, but he was involuntarily pleased by something he felt and would +not have been insensible to if he had been given the choice. His old +interest in Maria Consuelo was reviving, and yet was turning into +something very different from what it had been. + +He now boldly denied to himself that he was in love and forced himself +to speculate concerning the possibilities of friendship. In his young +system, it was absurd to suppose that a man could fall in love a second +time with the same woman. He scoffed at himself, at the idea and at his +own folly, having all the time a consciousness amounting to certainty, +of something very real and serious, by no means to be laughed at, +overlooked nor despised. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + + +It was to be foreseen that Orsino and Maria Consuelo would see each +other more often and more intimately now than ever before. Apart from +the strong mutual attraction which drew them nearer and nearer together, +there were many new circumstances which rendered Orsino's help almost +indispensable to his friend. The details of her installation in the +apartment she had chosen were many, there was much to be thought of and +there were enormous numbers of things to be bought, almost each needing +judgment and discrimination in the choice. Had the two needed reasonable +excuses for meeting very often they had them ready to their hand. But +neither of them were under any illusion, and neither cared to affect +that peculiar form of self-forgiveness which finds good reasons always +for doing what is always pleasant. Orsino, indeed, never pressed his +services and was careful not to be seen too often in public with Maria +Consuelo by the few acquaintances who were in town. Nor did Madame +d'Aranjuez actually ask his help at every turn, any more than she made +any difficulty about accepting it. There was a tacit understanding +between them which did away with all necessity for inventing excuses on +the one hand, or for the affectation of fearing to inconvenience Orsino +on the other. During some time, however, the subjects which both knew to +be dangerous were avoided, with an unspoken mutual consent for which +Maria Consuelo was more grateful than for all the trouble Orsino was +giving himself on her account. She fancied, perhaps, that he had at last +accepted the situation, and his society gave her too much happiness to +allow of her asking whether his discretion would or could last long. + +It was an anomalous relation which bound them together, as is often the +case at some period during the development of a passion, and most often +when the absence of obstacles makes the growth of affection slow and +regular. It was a period during which a new kind of intimacy began to +exist, as far removed from the half-serious, half-jesting intercourse of +earlier days as it was from the ultimate happiness to which all those +who love look forward with equal trust, although few ever come near it +and fewer still can ever reach it quite. It was outwardly a sort of +frank comradeship which took a vast deal for granted on both sides for +the mere sake of escaping analysis, a condition in which each understood +all that the other said, while neither quite knew what was in the +other's heart, a state in which both were pleased to dwell for a time, +as though preferring to prolong a sure if imperfect happiness rather +than risk one moment of it for the hope of winning a life-long joy. It +was a time during which mere friendship reached an artificially perfect +beauty, like a summer fruit grown under glass in winter, which in +thoroughly unnatural conditions attains a development almost impossible +even where unhelped nature is most kind. Both knew, perhaps, that it +could not last, but neither wished it checked, and neither liked to +think of the moment when it must either begin to wither by degrees, or +be suddenly absorbed into a greater and more dangerous growth. + +At that time they were able to talk fluently upon the nature of the +human heart and the durability of great affections. They propounded the +problems of the world and discussed them between the selection of a +carpet and the purchase of a table. They were ready at any moment to +turn from the deepest conversation to the consideration of the merest +detail, conscious that they could instantly take up the thread of their +talk. They could separate the major proposition from the minor, and the +deduction from both, by a lively argument concerning the durability of a +stuff or the fitness of a piece of furniture, and they came back each +time with renewed and refreshed interest to the consideration of matters +little less grave than the resurrection of the dead and the life of the +world to come. That their conclusions were not always logical nor even +very sensible has little to do with the matter. On the contrary, the +discovery of a flaw in their own reasoning was itself a reason for +opening the question again at their next meeting. + +At first their conversation was of general things, including the +desirability of glory for its own sake, the immortality of the soul and +the principles of architecture. Orsino was often amazed to find himself +talking, and, as he fancied, talking well, upon subjects of which he had +hitherto supposed with some justice that he knew nothing. By and by they +fell upon literature and dissected the modern novel with the keen zest +of young people who seek to learn the future secrets of their own lives +from vivid descriptions of the lives of others. Their knowledge of the +modern novel was not so limited as their acquaintance with many other +things less amusing, if more profitable, and they worked the vein with +lively energy and mutual satisfaction. + +Then, as always, came the important move. They began to talk of love. +The interest ceased to be objective or in any way vicarious and was +transferred directly to themselves. + +These steps are not, I think, to be ever thought of as stages in the +development of character in man or woman. They are phases in the +intercourse of man and woman. Clever people know them well and know how +to produce them at will. The end may or may not be love, but an end of +some sort is inevitable. According to the persons concerned, according +to circumstances, according to the amount of available time, the +progression from general subjects to the discussion of love, with +self-application of the conclusions, more or less sincere, may occupy an +hour, a month or a year. Love is the one subject which ultimately +attracts those not too old to talk about it, and those who consider that +they have reached such an age are few. + +In the case of Orsino and Maria Consuelo, neither of the two was making +any effort to lead up to a certain definite result, for both felt a real +dread of reaching that point which is ever afterwards remembered as the +last moment of hardly sustained friendship and the first of something +stronger and too often less happy. Orsino was inexperienced, but Maria +Consuelo was quite conscious of the tendency in a fixed direction. +Whether she had made up her mind, or not, she tried as skilfully as she +could to retard the movement, for she was very happy in the present and +probably feared the first stirring of her own ardently passionate +nature. + +As for Orsino, indeed, his inexperience was relative. He was anxious to +believe that he was only her friend, and pretended to his own conscience +that he could not explain the frequency with which the words "I love +you" presented themselves. The desire to speak them was neither a +permanent impulse of which he was always conscious nor a sudden strong +emotion like a temptation, giving warning of itself by a few heart-beats +before it reached its strength. The words came to his lips so naturally +and unexpectedly that he often wondered how he saved himself from +pronouncing them. It was impossible for him to foresee when they would +crave utterance. At last he began to fancy that they rang in his mind +without a reason and without a wish on his part to speak them, as a +perfectly indifferent tune will ring in the ear for days so that one +cannot get rid of it. + +Maria Consuelo had not intended to spend September and October +altogether in Rome. She had supposed that it would be enough to choose +her apartment and give orders to some person about the furnishing of it +to her taste, and that after that she might go to the seaside until the +heat should be over, coming up to the city from time to time as occasion +required. But she seemed to have changed her mind. She did not even +suggest the possibility of going away. + +She generally saw Orsino in the afternoon. He found no difficulty in +making time to see her, whenever he could be useful, but his own +business naturally occupied all the earlier part of the day. As a rule, +therefore, he called between half-past four and five, and so soon as it +was cool enough they went together to the Palazzo Barberini to see what +progress the upholsterers were making and to consider matters of taste. +The great half-furnished rooms with the big windows overlooking the +little garden before the palace were pleasant to sit in and wander in +during the hot September afternoons. The pair were not often quite +alone, even for a quarter of an hour, the place being full of workmen +who came and went, passed and repassed, as their occupations required, +often asking for orders and probably needing more supervision than Maria +Consuelo bestowed upon them. + +On a certain evening late in September the two were together in the +large drawing-room. Maria Consuelo was tired and was leaning back in a +deep seat, her hands folded upon her knee, watching Orsino as he slowly +paced the carpet, crossing and recrossing in his short walk, his face +constantly turned towards her. It was excessively hot. The air was +sultry with thunder, and though it was past five o'clock the windows +were still closely shut to keep out the heat. A clear, soft light filled +the room, not reflected from a burning pavement, but from grass and +plashing water. + +They had been talking of a chimneypiece which Maria Consuelo wished to +have placed in the hall. The style of what she wanted suggested the +sixteenth century, Henry Second of France, Diana of Poitiers and the +durability of the affections. The transition from fireplaces to true +love had been accomplished with comparative ease, the result of daily +practice and experience. It is worth noting, for the benefit of the +young, that furniture is an excellent subject for conversation for that +very reason, nothing being simpler than to go in three minutes from a +table to an epoch, from an epoch to an historical person and from that +person to his or her love story. A young man would do well to associate +the life of some famous lover or celebrated and unhappy beauty with +each style of woodwork and upholstery. It is always convenient. But if +he has not the necessary preliminary knowledge he may resort to a +stratagem. + +"What a comfortable chair!" says he, as he deposits his hat on the floor +and sits down. + +"Do you like comfortable chairs?" + +"Of course. Fancy what life was in the days of stiff wooden seats, when +you had to carry a cushion about with you. You know that sort of +thing--twelfth century, Francesca da Rimini and all that." + +"Poor Francesca!" + +If she does not say "Poor Francesca!" as she probably will, you can say +it yourself, very feelingly and in a different tone, after a short +pause. The one kiss which cost two lives makes the story particularly +useful. And then the ice is broken. If Paolo and Francesca had not been +murdered, would they have loved each other for ever? As nobody knows +what they would have done, you can assert that they would have been +faithful or not, according to your taste, humour or personal intentions. +Then you can talk about the husband, whose very hasty conduct +contributed so materially to the shortness of the story. If you wish to +be thought jealous, you say he was quite right; if you desire to seem +generous, you say with equal conviction that he was quite wrong. And so +forth. Get to generalities as soon as possible in order to apply them to +your own case. + +Orsino and Maria Consuelo were the guileless victims of furniture, +neither of them being acquainted with the method just set forth for the +instruction of the innocent. They fell into their own trap and wondered +how they had got from mantelpieces to hearts in such an incredibly short +time. + +"It is quite possible to love twice," Orsino was saying. + +"That depends upon what you mean by love," answered Maria Consuelo, +watching him with half-closed eyes. + +Orsino laughed. + +"What I mean by love? I suppose I mean very much what other people mean +by it--or a little more," he added, and the slight change in his voice +pleased her. + +"Do you think that any two understand the same thing when they speak of +love?" she asked. + +"We two might," he answered, resuming his indifferent tone. "After all, +we have talked so much together during the last month that we ought to +understand each other." + +"Yes," said Maria Consuelo. "And I think we do," she added thoughtfully. + +"Then why should we think differently about the same thing? But I am not +going to try and define love. It is not easily defined, and I am not +clever enough." He laughed again. "There are many illnesses which I +cannot define--but I know that one may have them twice." + +"There are others which one can only have once--dangerous ones, too." + +"I know it. But that has nothing to do with the argument." + +"I think it has--if this is an argument at all." + +"No. Love is not enough like an illness--it is quite the contrary. It is +a recovery from an unnatural state--that of not loving. One may fall +into that state and recover from it more than once." + +"What a sophism!" + +"Why do you say that? Do you think that not to love is the normal +condition of mankind?" + +Maria Consuelo was silent, still watching him. + +"You have nothing to say," he continued, stopping and standing before +her. "There is nothing to be said. A man or woman who does not love is +in an abnormal state. When he or she falls in love it is a recovery. One +may recover so long as the heart has enough vitality. Admit it--for you +must. It proves that any properly constituted person may love twice, at +least." + +"There is an idea of faithlessness in it, nevertheless," said Maria +Consuelo, thoughtfully. "Or if it is not faithless, it is fickle. It is +not the same to oneself to love twice. One respects oneself less." + +"I cannot believe that." + +"We all ought to believe it. Take a case as an instance. A woman loves a +man with all her heart, to the point of sacrificing very much for him. +He loves her in the same way. In spite of the strongest opposition, they +agree to be married. On the very day of the marriage he is taken from +her--for ever--loving her as he has always loved her, and as he would +always have loved her had he lived. What would such a woman feel, if she +found herself forgetting such a love as that after two or three years, +for another man? Do you think she would respect herself more or less? Do +you think she would have the right to call herself a faithful woman?" + +Orsino was silent for a moment, seeing that she meant herself by the +example. She, indeed, had only told him that her husband had been +killed, but Spicca had once said of her that she had been married to a +man who had never been her husband. + +"A memory is one thing--real life is quite another," said Orsino at +last, resuming his walk. + +"And to be faithful cannot possibly mean to be faithless," answered +Maria Consuelo in a low voice. + +She rose and went to one of the windows. She must have wished to hide +her face, for the outer blinds and the glass casement were both shut and +she could see nothing but the green light that struck the painted wood. +Orsino went to her side. + +"Shall I open the window?" he asked in a constrained voice. + +"No--not yet. I thought I could see out." + +Still she stood where she was, her face almost touching the pane, one +small white hand resting upon the glass, the fingers moving restlessly. + +"You meant yourself, just now," said Orsino softly. + +She neither spoke nor moved, but her face grew pale. Then he fancied +that there was a hardly perceptible movement of her head, the merest +shade of an inclination. He leaned a little towards her, resting against +the marble sill of the window. + +"And you meant something more--" he began to say. Then he stopped short. + +His heart was beating hard and the hot blood throbbed in his temples, +his lips closed tightly and his breathing was audible. + +Maria Consuelo turned her head, glanced at him quickly and instantly +looked back at the smooth glass before her and at the green light on the +shutters without. He was scarcely conscious that she had moved. In love, +as in a storm at sea, matters grow very grave in a few moments. + +"You meant that you might still--" Again he stopped. The words would not +come. + +He fancied that she would not speak. She could not, any more than she +could have left his side at that moment. The air was very sultry even in +the cool, closed room. The green light on the shutters darkened +suddenly. Then a far distant peal of thunder rolled its echoes slowly +over the city. Still neither moved from the window. + +"If you could--" Orsino's voice was low and soft, but there was +something strangely overwrought in the nervous quality of it. It was not +hesitation any longer that made him stop. + +"Could you love me?" he asked. He thought he spoke aloud. When he had +spoken, he knew that he had whispered the words. + +His face was colourless. He heard a short, sharp breath, drawn like a +gasp. The small white hand fell from the window and gripped his own with +sudden, violent strength. Neither spoke. Another peal of thunder, nearer +and louder, shook the air. Then Orsino heard the quick-drawn breath +again, and the white hand went nervously to the fastening of the window. +Orsino opened the casement and thrust back the blinds. There was a vivid +flash, more thunder, and a gust of stifling wind. Maria Consuelo leaned +far out, looking up, and a few great drops of rain, began to fall. + +The storm burst and the cold rain poured down furiously, wetting the two +white faces at the window. Maria Consuelo drew back a little, and Orsino +leaned against the open casement, watching her. It was as though the +single pressure of their hands had crushed out the power of speech for a +time. + +For weeks they had talked daily together during many hours. They could +not foresee that at the great moment there would be nothing left for +them to say. The rain fell in torrents and the gusty wind rose and +buffeted the face of the great palace with roaring strength, to sink +very suddenly an instant later in the steadily rushing noise of the +water, springing up again without warning, rising and falling, falling +and rising, like a great sobbing breath. The wind and the rain seemed to +be speaking for the two who listened to it. + +Orsino watched Maria Consuelo's face, not scrutinising it, nor realising +very much whether it were beautiful or not, nor trying to read the +thoughts that were half expressed in it--not thinking at all, indeed, +but only loving it wholly and in every part for the sake of the woman +herself, as he had never dreamed of loving any one or anything. + +At last Maria Consuelo turned very slowly and looked into his eyes. The +passionate sadness faded out of the features, the faint colour rose +again, the full lips relaxed, the smile that came was full of a +happiness that seemed almost divine. + +"I cannot help it," she said. + +"Can I?" + +"Truly?" + +Her hand was lying on the marble ledge. Orsino laid his own upon it, and +both trembled a little. She understood more than any word could have +told her. + +"For how long?" she asked. + +"For all our lives now, and for all our life hereafter." + +He raised her hand to his lips, bending his head, and then he drew her +from the window, and they walked slowly up and down the great room. + +"It is very strange," she said presently, in a low voice. + +"That I should love you?" + +"Yes. Where were we an hour ago? What is become of that old time--that +was an hour ago?" + +"I have forgotten, dear--that was in the other life." + +"The other life! Yes--how unhappy I was--there, by that window, a +hundred years ago!" + +She laughed softly, and Orsino smiled as he looked down at her. + +"Are you happy now?" + +"Do not ask me--how could I tell you?" + +"Say it to yourself, love--I shall see it in your dear face." + +"Am I not saying it?" + +Then they were silent again, walking side by side, their arms locked and +pressing one another. + +It began to dawn upon Orsino that a great change had come into his life, +and he thought of the consequences of what he was doing. He had not said +that he was happy, but in the first moment he had felt it more than she. +The future, however, would not be like the present, and could not be a +perpetual continuation of it. Orsino was not at all of a romantic +disposition, and the practical side of things was always sure to present +itself to his mind very early in any affair. It was a part of his nature +and by no means hindered him from feeling deeply and loving sincerely. +But it shortened his moments of happiness. + +"Do you know what this means to you and me?" he asked, after a time. + +Maria Consuelo started very slightly and looked up at him. + +"Let us think of to-morrow--to-morrow," she said. Her voice trembled a +little. + +"Is it so hard to think of?" asked Orsino, fearing lest he had +displeased her. + +"Very hard," she answered, in a low voice. + +"Not for me. Why should it be? If anything can make to-day more +complete, it is to think that to-morrow will be more perfect, and the +next day still more, and so on, each day better than the one before it." + +Maria Consuelo shook her head. + +"Do not speak of it," she said. + +"Will you not love me to-morrow?" Orsino asked. The light in his face +told how little earnestly he asked the question, but she turned upon him +quickly. + +"Do you doubt yourself, that you should doubt me?" There was a ring of +terror in the words that startled him as he heard them. + +"Beloved--no--how can you think I meant it?" + +"Then do not say it." She shivered a little, and bent down her head. + +"No--I will not. But--dear--do you know where we are?" + +"Where we are?" she repeated, not understanding. + +"Yes--where we are. This was to have been your home this year." + +"Was to have been?" A frightened look came into her face. + +"It will not be, now. Your home is not in this house." + +Again she shook her head, turning her face away. + +"It must be," she said. + +Orsino was surprised beyond expression by the answer. + +"Either you do not know what you are saying, or you do not mean it, +dear," he said. "Or else you will not understand me." + +"I understand you too well." + +Orsino made her stop and took both her hands, looking down into her +eyes. + +"You will marry me," he said. + +"I cannot marry you," she answered. + +Her face grew even paler than it had been when they had stood at the +window, and so full of pain and sadness that it hurt Orsino to look at +it. But the words she spoke, in her clear, distinct tones, struck him +like a blow unawares. He knew that she loved him, for her love was in +every look and gesture, without attempt at concealment. He believed her +to be a good woman. He was certain that her husband was dead. He could +not understand, and he grew suddenly angry. An older man would have done +worse, or a man less in earnest. + +"You must have a reason to give me--and a good one," he said gravely. + +"I have." + +She turned slowly away and began to walk alone. He followed her. + +"You must tell it," he said. + +"Tell it? Yes, I will tell it to you. It is a solemn promise before God, +given to a man who died in my arms--to my husband. Would you have me +break such a vow?" + +"Yes." Orsino drew a long breath. The objection seemed insignificant +enough compared with the pain it had cost him before it had been +explained. + +"Such promises are not binding," he continued, after a moment's pause. +"Such a promise is made hastily, rashly, without a thought of the +consequences. You have no right to keep it." + +"No right? Orsino, what are you saying! Is not an oath an oath, however +it is taken? Is not a vow made ten times more sacred when the one for +whom it was taken is gone? Is there any difference between my promise +and that made before the altar by a woman who gives up the world? Should +I be any better, if I broke mine, than the nun who broke hers?" + +"You cannot be in earnest?" exclaimed Orsino in a low voice. + +Maria Consuelo did not answer. She went towards the window and looked at +the splashing rain. Orsino stood where he was, watching her. Suddenly +she came back and stood before him. + +"We must undo this," she said. + +"What do you mean?" He understood well enough. + +"You know. We must not love each other. We must undo to-day and forget +it." + +"If you can talk so lightly of forgetting, you have little to remember," +answered Orsino almost roughly. + +"You have no right to say that." + +"I have the right of a man who loves you." + +"The right to be unjust?" + +"I am not unjust." His tone softened again. "I know what it means, to +say that I love you--it is my life, this love. I have known it a long +time. It has been on my lips to say it for weeks, and since it has been +said, it cannot be unsaid. A moment ago you told me not to doubt you. I +do not. And now you say that we must not love each other, as though we +had a choice to make--and why? Because you once made a rash promise--" + +"Hush!" interrupted Maria Consuelo. "You must not--" + +"I must and will. You made a promise, as though you had a right at such +a moment to dispose of all your life--I do not speak of mine--as though +you could know what the world held for you, and could renounce it all +beforehand. I tell you you had no right to make such an oath, and a vow +taken without the right to take it is no vow at all--" + +"It is--it is! I cannot break it!" + +"If you love me you will. But you say we are to forget. Forget! It is so +easy to say. How shall we do it?" + +"I will go away--" + +"If you have the heart to go away, then go. But I will follow you. The +world is very small, they say--it will not be hard for me to find you, +wherever you are." + +"If I beg you--if I ask it as the only kindness, the only act of +friendship, the only proof of your love--you will not come--you will not +do that--" + +"I will, if it costs your soul and mine." + +"Orsino! You do not mean it--you see how unhappy I am, how I am trying +to do right, how hard it is!" + +"I see that you are trying to ruin both our lives. I will not let you. +Besides, you do not mean it." + +Maria Consuelo looked into his eyes and her own grew deep and dark. Then +as though she felt herself yielding, she turned away and sat down in a +chair that stood apart from the rest. Orsino followed her, and tried to +take her hand, bending down to meet her downcast glance. + +"You do not mean it, Consuelo," he said earnestly. "You do not mean one +hundredth part of what you say." + +She drew her fingers from his, and turned her head sideways against the +back of the chair so that she could not see him. He still bent over her, +whispering into her ear. + +"You cannot go," he said. "You will not try to forget--for neither you +nor I can--nor ought, cost what it might. You will not destroy what is +so much to us--you would not, if you could. Look at me, love--do not +turn away. Let me see it all in your eyes, all the truth of it and of +every word I say." + +Still she turned her face from him. But she breathed quickly with parted +lips and the colour rose slowly in her pale cheeks. + +"It must be sweet to be loved as I love you, dear," he said, bending +still lower and closer to her. "It must be some happiness to know that +you are so loved. Is there so much joy in your life that you can despise +this? There is none in mine, without you, nor ever can be unless we are +always together--always, dear, always, always." + +She moved a little, and the drooping lids lifted almost imperceptibly. + +"Do not tempt me, dear one," she said in a faint voice. "Let me go--let +me go." + +Orsino's dark face was close to hers now, and she could see his bright +eyes. Once she tried to look away, and could not. Again she tried, +lifting her head from the cushioned chair. But his arm went round her +neck and her cheek rested upon his shoulder. + +"Go, love," he said softly, pressing her more closely. "Go--let us not +love each other. It is so easy not to love." + +She looked up into his eyes again with a sudden shiver, and they both +grew very pale. For ten seconds neither spoke nor moved. Then their lips +met. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + + +When Orsino was alone that night, he asked himself more than one +question which he did not find it easy to answer. He could define, +indeed, the relation in which he now stood to Maria Consuelo, for though +she had ultimately refused to speak the words of a promise, he no longer +doubted that she meant to be his wife and that her scruples were +overcome for ever. This was, undeniably, the most important point in the +whole affair, so far as his own satisfaction was concerned, but there +were others of the gravest import to be considered and elucidated before +he could even weigh the probabilities of future happiness. + +He had not lost his head on the present occasion, as he had formerly +done when his passion had been anything but sincere. He was perfectly +conscious that Maria Consuelo was now the principal person concerned in +his life and that the moment would inevitably have come, sooner or +later, in which he must have told her so as he had done on this day. He +had not yielded to a sudden impulse, but to a steady and growing +pressure from which there had been no means of escape, and which he had +not sought to elude. He was not in one of those moods of half-senseless, +exuberant spirits, such as had come upon him more than once during the +winter after he had been an hour in her society and had said or done +something more than usually rash. On the contrary, he was inclined to +look the whole situation soberly in the face, and to doubt whether the +love which dominated him might not prove a source of unhappiness to +Maria Consuelo as well as to himself. At the same time he knew that it +would be useless to fight against that domination, for he knew that he +was now absolutely sincere. + +But the difficulties to be met and overcome were many and great. He +might have betrothed himself to almost any woman in society, widow or +spinster, without anticipating one hundredth part of the opposition +which he must now certainly encounter. He was not even angry beforehand +with the prejudice which would animate his father and mother, for he +admitted that it was hardly a prejudice at all, and certainly not one +peculiar to them, or to their class. It would be hard to find a family, +anywhere, of any respectability, no matter how modest, that would accept +without question such a choice as he had made. Maria Consuelo was one of +those persons about whom the world is ready to speak in disparagement, +knowing that it will not be easy to find defenders for them. The world +indeed, loves its own and treats them with consideration, especially in +the matter of passing follies, and after it had been plain to society +that Orsino had fallen under Maria Consuelo's charm, he had heard no +more disagreeable remarks about her origin nor the circumstances of her +widowhood. But he remembered what had been said before that, when he +himself had listened indifferently enough, and he guessed that +ill-natured people called her an adventuress or little better. If +anything could have increased the suffering which this intuitive +knowledge caused him, it was the fact that he possessed no proof of her +right to rank with the best, except his own implicit faith in her, and +the few words Spicca had chosen to let fall. Spicca was still thought so +dangerous that people hesitated to contradict him openly, but his mere +assertion, Orsino thought, though it might be accepted in appearance, +was not of enough weight to carry inward conviction with it in the +minds of people who had no interest in being convinced. It was only too +plain that, unless Maria Consuelo, or Spicca, or both, were willing to +tell the strange story in its integrity, there were not proof enough to +convince the most willing person of her right to the social position she +occupied after that had once been called into question. To Orsino's mind +the very fact that it had been questioned at all demonstrated +sufficiently a carelessness on her own part which could only proceed +from the certainty of possessing that right beyond dispute. It would +doubtless have been possible for her to provide herself from the first +with something in the nature of a guarantee for her identity. She could +surely have had the means, through some friend of her own elsewhere, of +making the acquaintance of some one in society, who would have vouched +for her and silenced the carelessly spiteful talk concerning her which +had gone the rounds when she first appeared. But she had seemed to be +quite indifferent. She had refused Orsino's pressing offer to bring her +into relations with his mother, whose influence would have been enough +to straighten a reputation far more doubtful than Maria Consuelo's, and +she had almost wilfully thrown herself into a sort of intimacy with the +Countess Del Ferice. + +But Orsino, as he thought of these matters, saw how futile such +arguments must seem to his own people, and how absurdly inadequate they +were to better his own state of mind, since he needed no conviction +himself but sought the means of convincing others. One point alone gave +him some hope. Under the existing laws the inevitable legal marriage +would require the production of documents which would clear the whole +story at once. On the other hand, that fact could make Orsino's position +no easier with his father and mother until the papers were actually +produced. People cannot easily be married secretly in Rome, where the +law requires the publication of banns by posting them upon the doors of +the Capitol, and the name of Orsino Saracinesca would not be easily +overlooked. Orsino was aware of course that he was not in need of his +parents' consent for his marriage, but he had not been brought up in a +way to look upon their acquiescence as unnecessary. He was deeply +attached to them both, but especially to his mother who had been his +staunch friend in his efforts to do something for himself, and to whom +he naturally looked for sympathy if not for actual help. However certain +he might be of the ultimate result of his marriage, the idea of being +married in direct opposition to her wishes was so repugnant to him as to +be almost an insurmountable barrier. He might, indeed, and probably +would, conceal his engagement for some time, but solely with the +intention of so preparing the evidence in favour of it as to make it +immediately acceptable to his father and mother when announced. + +It seemed possible that, if he could bring Maria Consuelo to see the +matter as he saw it, she might at once throw aside her reticence and +furnish him with the information he so greatly needed. But it would be a +delicate matter to bring her to that point of view, unconscious as she +must be of her equivocal position. He could not go to her and tell her +that in order to announce their engagement he must be able to tell the +world who and what she really was. The most he could do would be to tell +her exactly what papers were necessary for her marriage and to prevail +upon her to procure them as soon as possible, or to hand them to him at +once if they were already in her possession. But in order to require +even this much of her, it was necessary to push matters farther than +they had yet gone. He had certainly pledged himself to her, and he +firmly believed that she considered herself bound to him. But beyond +that, nothing definite had passed. + +They had been interrupted by the entrance of workmen asking for orders, +and he had thought that Maria Consuelo had seemed anxious to detain the +men as long as possible. That such a scene could not be immediately +renewed where it had been broken off was clear enough, but Orsino +fancied that she had not wished even to attempt a renewal of it. He had +taken her home in the dusk, and she had refused to let him enter the +hotel with her. She said that she wished to be alone, and he had been +fain to be satisfied with the pressure of her hand and the look in her +eyes, which both said much while not saying half of what he longed to +hear and know. + +He would see her, of course, at the usual hour on the following day, and +he determined to speak plainly and strongly. She could not ask him to +prolong such a state of uncertainty. Considering how gradual the steps +had been which had led up to what had taken place on that rainy +afternoon it was not conceivable, he thought, that she would still ask +for time to make up her mind. She would at least consent to some +preliminary agreement upon a line of conduct for both to follow. + +But impossible as the other case seemed, Orsino did not neglect it. His +mind was developing with his character and was acquiring the habit of +foreseeing difficulties in order to forestall them. If Maria Consuelo +returned suddenly to her original point of view maintaining that the +promise given to her dying husband was still binding, Orsino determined +that he would go to Spicca in a last resort. Whatever the bond which +united them, it was clear that Spicca possessed some kind of power over +Maria Consuelo, and that he was so far acquainted with all the +circumstances of her previous life as to be eminently capable of giving +Orsino advice for the future. + +He went to his office on the following morning with little inclination +for work. It would be more just, perhaps, to say that he felt the desire +to pursue his usual occupation while conscious that his mind was too +much disturbed by the events of the previous afternoon to concentrate +itself upon the details of accounts and plans. He found himself +committing all sorts of errors of oversight quite unusual with him. +Figures seemed to have lost their value and plans their meaning. With +the utmost determination he held himself to his task, not willing to +believe that his judgment and nerve could be so disturbed as to render +him unfit for any serious business. But the result was contemptible as +compared with the effort. + +Andrea Contini, too, was inclined to take a gloomy view of things, +contrary to his usual habit. A report was spreading to the effect that a +certain big contractor was on the verge of bankruptcy, a man who had +hitherto been considered beyond the danger of heavy loss. There had been +more than one small failure of late, but no one had paid much attention +to such accidents which were generally attributed to personal causes +rather than to an approaching turn in the tide of speculation. But +Contini chose to believe that a crisis was not far off. He possessed in +a high degree that sort of caution which is valuable rather in an +assistant than in a chief. Orsino was little inclined to share his +architect's despondency for the present. + +"You need a change of air," he said, pushing a heap of papers away from +him and lighting a cigarette. "You ought to go down to Porto d'Anzio for +a few days. You have been too long in the heat." + +"No longer than you, Don Orsino," answered Contini, from his own table. + +"You are depressed and gloomy. You have worked harder than I. You should +really go out of town for a day or two." + +"I do not feel the need of it." + +Contini bent over his table again and a short silence followed. Orsino's +mind instantly reverted to Maria Consuelo. He felt a violent desire to +leave the office and go to her at once. There was no reason why he +should not visit her in the morning if he pleased. At the worst, she +might refuse to receive him. He was thinking how she would look, and +wondering whether she would smile or meet him with earnest half +regretful eyes, when Contini's voice broke into his meditations again. + +"You think I am despondent because I have been working too long in the +heat," said the young man, rising and beginning to pace the floor before +Orsino. "No. I am not that kind of man. I am never tired. I can go on +for ever. But affairs in Rome will not go on for ever. I tell you that, +Don Orsino. There is trouble in the air. I wish we had sold everything +and could wait. It would be much better." + +"All this is very vague, Contini." + +"It is very clear to me. Matters are going from bad to worse. There is +no doubt that Ronco has failed." + +"Well, and if he has? We are not Ronco. He was involved in all sorts of +other speculations. If he had stuck to land and building he would be as +sound as ever." + +"For another month, perhaps. Do you know why he is ruined?" + +"By his own fault, as people always are. He was rash." + +"No rasher than we are. I believe that the game is played out. Ronco is +bankrupt because the bank with which he deals cannot discount any more +bills this week." + +"And why not?" + +"Because the foreign banks will not take any more of all this paper that +is flying about. Those small failures in the summer have produced their +effect. Some of the paper was in Paris and some in Vienna. It turned out +worthless, and the foreigners have taken fright. It is all a fraud, at +best--or something very like it." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Tell me the truth, Don Orsino--have you seen a centime of all these +millions which every one is dealing with? Do you believe they really +exist? No. It is all paper, paper, and more paper. There is no cash in +the business." + +"But there is land and there are houses, which represent the millions +substantially." + +"Substantially! Yes--as long as the inflation lasts. After that they +will represent nothing." + +"You are talking nonsense, Contini. Prices may fall, and some people +will lose, but you cannot destroy real estate permanently." + +"Its value may be destroyed for ten or twenty years, which is +practically the same thing when people have no other property. Take this +block we are building. It represents a large sum. Say that in the next +six months there are half a dozen failures like Ronco's and that a panic +sets in. We could then neither sell the houses nor let them. What would +they represent to us? Nothing. Failure--like the failure of everybody +else. Do you know where the millions really are? You ought to know +better than most people. They are in Casa Saracinesca and in a few other +great houses which have not dabbled in all this business, and perhaps +they are in the pockets of a few clever men who have got out of it all +in time. They are certainly not in the firm of Andrea Contini and +Company, which will assuredly be bankrupt before the winter is out." + +Contini bit his cigar savagely, thrust his hands into his pockets and +looked out of the window, turning his back on Orsino. The latter watched +his companion in surprise, not understanding why his dismal forebodings +should find such sudden and strong expression. + +"I think you exaggerate very much," said Orsino. "There is always risk +in such business as this. But it strikes me that the risk was greater +when we had less capital." + +"Capital!" exclaimed the architect contemptuously and without turning +round. "Can we draw a cheque--a plain unadorned cheque and not a +draft--for a hundred thousand francs to-day? Or shall we be able to draw +it to-morrow? Capital! We have a lot of brick and mortar in our +possession, put together more or less symmetrically according to our +taste, and practically unpaid for. If we manage to sell it in time we +shall get the difference between what is paid and what we owe. That is +our capital. It is problematical, to say the least of it. If we realise +less than we owe we are bankrupt." + +He came back suddenly to Orsino's table as he ceased speaking and his +face showed that he was really disturbed. Orsino looked at him steadily +for a few seconds. + +"It is not only Ronco's failure that frightens you, Contini. There must +be something else." + +"More of the same kind. There is enough to frighten any one." + +"No, there is something else. You have been talking with somebody." + +"With Del Ferice's confidential clerk. Yes--it is quite true. I was with +him last night." + +"And what did he say? What you have been telling me, I suppose." + +"Something much more disagreeable--something you would rather not hear." + +"I wish to hear it." + +"You should, as a matter of fact." + +"Go on." + +"We are completely in Del Ferice's hands." + +"We are in the hands of his bank." + +"What is the difference? To all intents and purposes he is our bank. The +proof is that but for him we should have failed already." + +Orsino looked up sharply. + +"Be clear, Contini. Tell me what you mean." + +"I mean this. For a month past the bank could not have discounted a +hundred francs' worth of our paper. Del Ferice has taken it all and +advanced the money out of his private account." + +"Are you sure of what you are telling me?" Orsino asked the question in +a low voice, and his brow contracted. + +"One can hardly have better authority than the clerk's own statement." + +"And he distinctly told you this, did he?" + +"Most distinctly." + +"He must have had an object in betraying such a confidence," said +Orsino. "It is not likely that such a man would carelessly tell you or +me a secret which is evidently meant to be kept." + +He spoke quietly enough, but the tone of his voice was changed and +betrayed how greatly he was moved by the news. Contini began to walk up +and down again, but did not make any answer to the remark. + +"How much do we owe the bank?" Orsino asked suddenly. + +"Roughly, about six hundred thousand." + +"How much of that paper do you think Del Ferice has taken up himself?" + +"About a quarter, I fancy, from what the clerk told me." + +A long silence followed, during which Orsino tried to review the +situation in all its various aspects. It was clear that Del Ferice did +not wish Andrea Contini and Company to fail and was putting himself to +serious inconvenience in order to avert the catastrophe. Whether he +wished, in so doing, to keep Orsino in his power, or whether he merely +desired to escape the charge of having ruined his old enemy's son out of +spite, it was hard to decide. Orsino passed over that question quickly +enough. So far as any sense of humiliation was concerned he knew very +well that his mother would be ready and able to pay off all his +liabilities at the shortest notice. What Orsino felt most deeply was +profound disappointment and utter disgust at his own folly. It seemed to +him that he had been played with and flattered into the belief that he +was a serious man of business, while all along he had been pushed and +helped by unseen hands. There was nothing to prove that Del Ferice had +not thus deceived him from the first; and, indeed, when he thought of +his small beginnings early in the year and realised the dimensions which +the business had now assumed, he could not help believing that Del +Ferice had been at the bottom of all his apparent success and that his +own earnest and ceaseless efforts had really had but little to do with +the development of his affairs. His vanity suffered terribly under the +first shock. + +He was bitterly disappointed. During the preceding months he had begun +to feel himself independent and able to stand alone, and he had looked +forward in the near future to telling his father that he had made a +fortune for himself without any man's help. He had remembered every word +of cold discouragement to which he had been forced to listen at the very +beginning, and he had felt sure of having a success to set against each +one of those words. He knew that he had not been idle and he had fancied +that every hour of work had produced its permanent result, and left him +with something more to show. He had seen his mother's pride in him +growing day by day in his apparent success, and he had been confident of +proving to her that she was not half proud enough. All that was gone in +a moment. He saw, or fancied that he saw, nothing but a series of +failures which had been bolstered up and inflated into seeming triumphs +by a man whom his father despised and hated and whom, as a man, he +himself did not respect. The disillusionment was complete. + +At first it seemed to him that there was nothing to be done but to go +directly to Saracinesca and tell the truth to his father and mother. +Financially, when the wealth of the family was taken into consideration +there was nothing very alarming in the situation. He would borrow of his +father enough to clear him with Del Ferice and would sell the unfinished +buildings for what they would bring. He might even induce his father to +help him in finishing the work. There would be no trouble about the +business question. As for Contini, he should not lose by the transaction +and permanent occupation could doubtless be found for him on one of the +estates if he chose to accept it. + +He thought of the interview and his vanity dreaded it. Another plan +suggested itself to him. On the whole, it seemed easier to bear his +dependence on Del Ferice than to confess himself beaten. There was +nothing dishonourable, nothing which could be called so at least, in +accepting financial accommodation from a man whose business it was to +lend money on security. If Del Ferice chose to advance sums which his +bank would not advance, he did it for good reasons of his own and +certainly not in the intention of losing by it in the end. In case of +failure Del Ferice would take the buildings for the debt and would +certainly in that case get them for much less than they were worth. +Orsino would be no worse off than when he had begun, he would frankly +confess that though he had lost nothing he had not made a fortune, and +the matter would be at an end. That would be very much easier to bear +than the humiliation of confessing at the present moment that he was in +Del Ferice's power and would be bankrupt but for Del Ferice's personal +help. And again he repeated to himself that Del Ferice was not a man to +throw money away without hope of recovery with interest. It was +inconceivable, too, that Ugo should have pushed him so far merely to +flatter a young man's vanity. He meant to make use of him, or to make +money out of his failure. In either case Orsino would be his dupe and +would not be under any obligation to him. Compared with the necessity of +acknowledging the present state of his affairs to his father, the +prospect of being made a tool of by Del Ferice was bearable, not to say +attractive. + +"What had we better do, Contini?" he asked at length. + +"There is nothing to be done but to go on, I suppose, until we are +ruined," replied the architect. "Even if we had the money, we should +gain nothing by taking off all our bills as they fall due, instead of +renewing them." + +"But if the bank will not discount any more--" + +"Del Ferice will, in the bank's name. When he is ready for the failure, +we shall fail and he will profit by our loss." + +"Do you think that is what he means to do?" + +Contini looked at Orsino in surprise. + +"Of course. What did you expect? You do not suppose that he means to +make us a present of that paper, or to hold it indefinitely until we can +make a good sale." + +"And he will ultimately get possession of all the paper himself." + +"Naturally. As the old bills fall due we shall renew them with him, +practically, and not with the bank. He knows what he is about. He +probably has some scheme for selling the whole block to the government, +or to some institution, and is sure of his profit beforehand. Our +failure will give him a profit of twenty-five or thirty per cent." + +Orsino was strangely reassured by his partner's gloomy view. To him +every word proved that he was free from any personal obligation to Del +Ferice and might accept the latter's assistance without the least +compunction. He did not like to remember that a man of Ugo's subtle +intelligence might have something more important in view than a profit +of a few hundred thousand francs, if indeed the sum should amount to +that. Orsino's brow cleared and his expression changed. + +"You seem to like the idea," observed Contini rather irritably. + +"I would rather be ruined by Del Ferice than helped by him." + +"Ruin means so little to you, Don Orsino. It means the inheritance of an +enormous fortune, a princess for a wife and the choice of two or three +palaces to live in." + +"That is one way of putting it," answered Orsino, almost laughing. "As +for yourself, my friend, I do not see that your prospects are so very +bad. Do you suppose that I shall abandon you after having led you into +this scrape, and after having learned to like you and understand your +talent? You are very much mistaken. We have tried this together and +failed, but as you rightly say I shall not be in the least ruined by the +failure. Do you know what will happen? My father will tell me that +since I have gained some experience I should go and manage one of the +estates and improve the buildings. Then you and I will go together." + +Contini smiled suddenly and his bright eyes sparkled. He was profoundly +attached to Orsino, and thought perhaps as much of the loss of his +companionship as of the destruction of his material hopes in the event +of a liquidation. + +"If that could be, I should not care what became of the business," he +said simply. + +"How long do you think we shall last?" asked Orsino after a short pause. + +"If business grows worse, as I think it will, we shall last until the +first bill that falls due after the doors and windows are put in." + +"That is precise, at least." + +"It will probably take us into January, or perhaps February." + +"But suppose that Del Ferice himself gets into trouble between now and +then. If he cannot discount any more, what will happen?" + +"We shall fail a little sooner. But you need not be afraid of that. Del +Ferice knows what he is about better than we do, better than his +confidential clerk, much better than most men of business in Rome. If he +fails, he will fail intentionally and at the right moment." + +"And do you not think that there is even a remote possibility of an +improvement in business, so that nobody will fail at all?" + +"No," answered Contini thoughtfully. "I do not think so. It is a paper +system and it will go to pieces." + +"Why have you not said the same thing before? You must have had this +opinion a long time." + +"I did not believe that Ronco could fail. An accident opens the eyes." + +Orsino had almost decided to let matters go on but he found some +difficulty in actually making up his mind. In spite of Contini's +assurances he could not get rid of the idea that he was under an +obligation to Del Ferice. Once, at least, he thought of going directly +to Ugo and asking for a clear explanation of the whole affair. But Ugo +was not in town, as he knew, and the impossibility of going at once made +it improbable that Orsino would go at all. It would not have been a very +wise move, for Del Ferice could easily deny the story, seeing that the +paper was all in the bank's name, and he would probably have visited the +indiscretion upon the unfortunate clerk. + +In the long silence which followed, Orsino relapsed into his former +despondency. After all, whether he confessed his failure or not, he had +undeniably failed and been played upon from the first, and he admitted +it to himself without attempting to spare his vanity, and his +self-contempt was great and painful. The fact that he had grown from a +boy to a man during his experience did not make it easier to bear such +wounds, which are felt more keenly by the strong than by the weak when +they are real. + +As the day wore on the longing to see Maria Consuelo grew upon him until +he felt that he had never before wished to be with her as he wished it +now. He had no intention of telling her his trouble but he needed the +assurance of an ever ready sympathy which he so often saw in her eyes, +and which was always there for him when he asked it. When there is love +there is reliance, whether expressed or not, and where there is +reliance, be it ever so slender, there is comfort for many ills of body, +mind and soul. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + + +Orsino felt suddenly relieved when he had left his office in the +afternoon. Contini's gloomy mood was contagious, and so long as Orsino +was with him it was impossible not to share the architect's view of +affairs. Alone, however, things did not seem so bad. As a matter of +fact it was almost impossible for the young man to give up all his +illusions concerning his own success in one moment, and to believe +himself the dupe of his own blind vanity instead of regarding himself as +the winner in the fight for independence of thought and action. He could +not deny the facts Contini alleged. He had to admit that he was +apparently in Del Ferice's power, unless he appealed to his own people +for assistance. He was driven to acknowledge that he had made a great +mistake. But he could not altogether distrust himself and he fancied +that after all, with a fair share of luck, he might prove a match for +Ugo on the financier's own ground. He had learned to have confidence in +his own powers and judgment, and as he walked away from the office every +moment strengthened his determination to struggle on with such resources +as he might be able to command, so long as there should be a possibility +of action of any sort. He felt, too, that more depended upon his success +than the mere satisfaction of his vanity. If he failed, he might lose +Maria Consuelo as well as his self-respect: He had that sensation, +familiar enough to many young men when extremely in love, that in order +to be loved in return one must succeed, and that a single failure +endangers the stability of a passion which, if it be honest, has nothing +to do with failure or success. At Orsino's age, and with his temper, it +is hard to believe that pity is more closely akin to love than +admiration. + +Gradually the conviction reasserted itself that he could fight his way +through unaided, and his spirits rose as he approached the more crowded +quarters of the city on his way to the hotel where Maria Consuelo was +stopping. Not even the yells of the newsboys affected him, as they +announced the failure of the great contractor Ronco and offered, in a +second edition, a complete account of the bankruptcy. It struck him +indeed that before long the same brazen voices might be screaming out +the news that Andrea Contini and Company had come to grief. But the +idea lent a sense of danger to the situation which Orsino did not find +unpleasant. The greater the difficulty the greater the merit in +overcoming it, and the greater therefore the admiration he should get +from the woman he loved. His position was certainly an odd one, and many +men would not have felt the excitement which he experienced. The +financial side of the question was strangely indifferent to him, who +knew himself backed by the great fortune of his family, and believed +that his ultimate loss could only be the small sum with which he had +begun his operations. But the moral risk seemed enormous and grew in +importance as he thought of it. + +He found Maria Consuelo looking pale and weary. She evidently had no +intention of going out that day, for she wore a morning gown and was +established upon a lounge with books and flowers beside her as though +she did not mean to move. She was not reading, however. Orsino was +startled by the sadness in her face. + +She looked fixedly into his eyes as she gave him her hand, and he sat +down beside her. + +"I am glad you are come," she said at last, in a low voice. "I have been +hoping all day that you would come early." + +"I would have come this morning if I had dared," answered Orsino. + +She looked at him again, and smiled faintly. + +"I have a great deal to say to you," she began. Then she hesitated as +though uncertain where to begin. + +"And I--" Orsino tried to take her hand, but she withdrew it. + +"Yes, but do not say it. At least, not now." + +"Why not, dear one? May I not tell you how I love you? What is it, love? +You are so sad to-day. Has anything happened?" + +His voice grew soft and tender as he spoke, bending to her ear. She +pushed him gently back. + +"You know what has happened," she answered. "It is no wonder that I am +sad." + +"I do not understand you, dear. Tell me what it is." + +"I told you too much yesterday--" + +"Too much?" + +"Far too much." + +"Are you going to unsay it?" + +"How can I?" + +She turned her face away and her fingers played nervously with her +laces. + +"No--indeed, neither of us can unsay such words," said Orsino. "But I do +not understand you yet, darling. You must tell me what you mean to-day." + +"You know it all. It is because you will not understand--" + +Orsino's face changed and his voice took another tone when he spoke. + +"Are you playing with me, Consuelo?" he asked gravely. + +She started slightly and grew paler than before. + +"You are not kind," she said. "I am suffering very much. Do not make it +harder." + +"I am suffering, too. You mean me to understand that you regret what +happened yesterday and that you wish to take back your words, that +whether you love me or not, you mean to act and appear as though you did +not, and that I am to behave as though nothing had happened. Do you +think that would be easy? And do you think I do not suffer at the mere +idea of it?" + +"Since it must be--" + +"There is no must," answered Orsino with energy. "You would ruin your +life and mine for the mere shadow of a memory which you choose to take +for a binding promise. I will not let you do it." + +"You will not?" She looked at him quickly with an expression of +resistance. + +"No--I will not," he repeated. "We have too much at stake. You shall not +lose all for both of us." + +"You are wrong, dear one," she said, with sudden softness. "If you love +me, you should believe me and trust me. I can give you nothing but +unhappiness--" + +"You have given me the only happiness I ever knew--and you ask me to +believe that you could make me unhappy in any way except by not loving +me! Consuelo--my darling--are you out of your senses?" + +"No. I am too much in them. I wish I were not. If I were mad I should--" + +"What?" + +"Never mind. I will not even say it. No--do not try to take my hand, for +I will not give it to you. Listen, Orsino--be reasonable, listen to +me--" + +"I will try and listen." + +But Maria Consuelo did not speak at once. Possibly she was trying to +collect her thoughts. + +"What have you to say, dearest?" asked Orsino at length. "I will try to +understand." + +"You must understand. I will make it all clear to you and then you will +see it as I do." + +"And then--what?" + +"And then we must part," she said in a low voice. + +Orsino said nothing, but shook his head incredulously. + +"Yes," repeated Maria Consuelo, "we must not see each other any more +after this. It has been all my fault. I shall leave Rome and not come +back again. It will be best for you and I will make it best for me." + +"You talk very easily of parting." + +"Do I? Every word is a wound. Do I look as though I were indifferent?" + +Orsino glanced at her pale face and tearful eyes. + +"No, dear," he said softly. + +"Then do not call me heartless. I have more heart than you think--and it +is breaking. And do not say that I do not love you. I love you better +than you know--better than you will be loved again when you are +older--and happier, perhaps. Yes, I know what you want to say. Well, +dear--you love me, too. Yes, I know it. Let there be no unkind words and +no doubts between us to-day. I think it is our last day together." + +"For God's sake, Consuelo--" + +"We shall see. Now let me speak--if I can. There are three reasons why +you and I should not marry. I have thought of them through all last +night and all to-day, and I know them. The first is my solemn vow to the +dying man who loved me so well and who asked nothing but that--whose +wife I never was, but whose name I bear. Think me mad, +superstitious--what you will--I cannot break that promise. It was almost +an oath not to love, and if it was I have broken it. But the rest I can +keep, and will. The next reason is that I am older than you. I might +forget that, I have forgotten it more than once, but the time will come +soon when you will remember it." + +Orsino made an angry gesture and would have spoken, but she checked him. + +"Pass that over, since we are both young. The third reason is harder to +tell and no power on earth can explain it away. I am no match for you in +birth, Orsino--" + +The young man interrupted her now, and fiercely. + +"Do you dare to think that I care what your birth may be?" he asked. + +"There are those who do care, even if you do not, dear one," she +answered quietly. + +"And what is their caring to you or me?" + +"It is not so small a matter as you think. I am not talking of a mere +difference in rank. It is worse than that. I do not really know who I +am. Do you understand? I do not know who my mother was nor whether she +is alive or dead, and before I was married I did not bear my father's +name." + +"But you know your father--you know his name at least?" + +"Yes." + +"Who is he?" Orsino could hardly pronounce the words of the question. + +"Count Spicca." + +Maria Consuelo spoke quietly, but her fingers trembled nervously and +she watched Orsino's face in evident distress and anxiety. As for +Orsino, he was almost dumb with amazement. + +"Spicca! Spicca your father!" he repeated indistinctly. + +In all his many speculations as to the tie which existed between Maria +Consuelo and the old duellist, he had never thought of this one. + +"Then you never suspected it?" asked Maria Consuelo. + +"How should I? And your own father killed your husband--good Heavens! +What a story!" + +"You know now. You see for yourself how impossible it is that I should +marry you." + +In his excitement Orsino had risen and was pacing the room. He scarcely +heard her last words, and did not say anything in reply. Maria Consuelo +lay quite still upon the lounge, her hands clasped tightly together and +straining upon each other. + +"You see it all now," she said again. This time his attention was +arrested and he stopped before her. + +"Yes. I see what you mean. But I do not see it as you see it. I do not +see that any of these things you have told me need hinder our marriage." + +Maria Consuelo did not move, but her expression changed. The light stole +slowly into her face and lingered there, not driving away the sadness +but illuminating it. + +"And would you have the courage, in spite of your family and of society, +to marry me, a woman practically nameless, older than yourself--" + +"I not only would, but I will," answered Orsino. + +"You cannot--but I thank you, dear," said Maria Consuelo. + +He was standing close beside her. She took his hand and tenderly touched +it with her lips. He started and drew it back, for no woman had ever +kissed his hand. + +"You must not do that!" he exclaimed, instinctively. + +"And why not, if I please?" she asked, raising her eyebrows with a +little affectionate laugh. + +"I am not good enough to kiss your hand, darling--still less to let you +kiss mine. Never mind--we were talking--where were we?" + +"You were saying--" But he interrupted her. + +"What does it matter, when I love you so, and you love me?" he asked +passionately. + +He knelt beside her as she lay on the lounge and took her hands, holding +them and drawing her towards him. She resisted and turned her face away. + +"No--no! It matters too much--let me go, it only makes it worse!" + +"Makes what worse?" + +"Parting--" + +"We will not part. I will not let you go!" + +But still she struggled with her hands and he, fearing to hurt them in +his grasp, let them slip away with a lingering touch. + +"Get up," she said. "Sit here, beside me--a little further--there. We +can talk better so." + +"I cannot talk at all--" + +"Without holding my hands?" + +"Why should I not?" + +"Because I ask you. Please, dear--" + +She drew back on the lounge, raised herself a little and turned her face +to him. Again, as his eyes met hers, he leaned forward quickly, as +though he would leave his seat. But she checked him, by an imperative +glance and a gesture. He was unreasonable and had no right to be +annoyed, but something in her manner chilled him and pained him in a way +he could not have explained. When he spoke there was a shade of change +in the tone of his voice. + +"The things you have told me do not influence me in the least," he said +with more calmness than he had yet shown. "What you believe to be the +most important reason is no reason at all to me. You are Count Spicca's +daughter. He is an old friend of my father--not that it matters very +materially, but it may make everything easier. I will go to him to-day +and tell him that I wish to marry you--" + +"You will not do that!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo in a tone of alarm. + +"Yes, I will. Why not? Do you know what he once said to me? He told me +he wished we might take a fancy to each other, because, as he expressed +it, we should be so well matched." + +"Did he say that?" asked Maria Consuelo gravely. + +"That or something to the same effect. Are you surprised? What surprises +me is that I should never have guessed the relation between you. Now +your father is a very honourable man. What he said meant something, and +when he said it he meant that our marriage would seem natural to him and +to everybody. I will go and talk to him. So much for your great reason. +As for the second you gave, it is absurd. We are of the same age, to all +intents and purposes." + +"I am not twenty-three years old." + +"And I am not quite two and twenty. Is that a difference? So much for +that. Take the third, which you put first. Seriously, do you think that +any intelligent being would consider you bound by such a promise? Do you +mean to say that a young girl--you were nothing more--has a right to +throw away her life out of sentiment by making a promise of that kind? +And to whom? To a man who is not her husband, and never can be, because +he is dying. To a man just not indifferent to her, to a man--" + +Maria Consuelo raised herself and looked full at Orsino. Her face was +extremely pale and her eyes were suddenly dark and gleamed. + +"Don Orsino, you have no right to talk to me in that way. I loved +him--no one knows how I loved him!" + +There was no mistaking the tone and the look. Orsino felt again and more +strongly, the chill and the pain he had felt before. He was silent for +a moment. Maria Consuelo looked at him a second longer, and then let her +head fall back upon the cushion. But the expression which had come into +her face did not change at once. + +"Forgive me," said Orsino after a pause. "I had not quite understood. +The only imaginable reason which could make our marriage impossible +would be that. If you loved him so well--if you loved him in such a way +as to prevent you from loving me as I love you--why then, you may be +right after all." + +In the silence which followed, he turned his face away and gazed at the +window. He had spoken quietly enough and his expression, strange to say, +was calm and thoughtful. It is not always easy for a woman to understand +a man, for men soon learn to conceal what hurts them but take little +trouble to hide their happiness, if they are honest. A man more often +betrays himself by a look of pleasure than by an expression of +disappointment. It was thought manly to bear pain in silence long before +it became fashionable to seem indifferent to joy. + +Orsino's manner displeased Maria Consuelo. It was too quiet and cold and +she thought he cared less than he really did. + +"You say nothing," he said at last. + +"What shall I say? You speak of something preventing me from loving you +as you love me. How can I tell how much you love me?" + +"Do you not see it? Do you not feel it?" Orsino's tone warmed again as +he turned towards her, but he was conscious of an effort. Deeply as he +loved her, it was not natural for him to speak passionately just at that +moment, but he knew she expected it and he did his best. She was +disappointed. + +"Not always," she answered with a little sigh. + +"You do not always believe that I love you?" + +"I did not say that. I am not always sure that you love me as much as +you think you do--you imagine a great deal." + +"I did not know it." + +"Yes--sometimes. I am sure it is so." + +"And how am I to prove that you are wrong and I am right?" + +"How should I know? Perhaps time will show." + +"Time is too slow for me. There must be some other way." + +"Find it then," said Maria Consuelo, smiling rather sadly. + +"I will." + +He meant what he said, but the difficulty of the problem perplexed him +and there was not enough conviction in his voice. He was thinking rather +of the matter itself than of what he said. Maria Consuelo fanned herself +slowly and stared at the wall. + +"If you doubt so much," said Orsino at last, "I have the right to doubt +a little too. If you loved me well enough you would promise to marry me. +You do not." + +There was a short pause. At last Maria Consuelo closed her fan, looked +at it and spoke. + +"You say my reason is not good. Must I go all over it again? It seems a +good one to me. Is it incredible to you that a woman should love twice? +Such things have happened before. Is it incredible to you that, loving +one person, a woman should respect the memory of another and a solemn +promise given to that other? I should respect myself less if I did not. +That it is all my fault I will admit, if you like--that I should never +have received you as I did--I grant it all--that I was weak yesterday, +that I am weak to-day, that I should be weak to-morrow if I let this go +on. I am sorry. You can take a little of the blame if you are generous +enough, or vain enough. You have tried hard to make me love you and you +have succeeded, for I love you very much. So much the worse for me. It +must end now." + +"You do not think of me, when you say that." + +"Perhaps I think more of you than you know--or will understand. I am +older than you--do not interrupt me! I am older, for a woman is always +older than a man in some things. I know what will happen, what will +certainly happen in time if we do not part. You will grow jealous of a +shadow and I shall never be able to tell you that this same shadow is +not dear to me. You will come to hate what I have loved and love still, +though it does not prevent me from loving you too--" + +"But less well," said Orsino rather harshly. + +"You would believe that, at least, and the thought would always be +between us." + +"If you loved me as much, you would not hesitate. You would marry me +living, as you married him dead." + +"If there were no other reason against it--" She stopped. + +"There is no other reason," said Orsino insisting. + +Maria Consuelo shook her head but said nothing and a long silence +followed. Orsino sat still, watching her and wondering what was passing +in her mind. It seemed to him, and perhaps rightly, that if she were +really in earnest and loved him with all her heart, the reasons she gave +for a separation were far from sufficient. He had not even much faith in +her present obstinacy and he did not believe that she would really go +away. It was incredible that any woman could be so capricious as she +chose to be. Her calmness, or what appeared to him her calmness, made it +even less probable, he thought, that she meant to part from him. But the +thought alone was enough to disturb him seriously. He had suffered a +severe shock with outward composure but not without inward suffering, +followed naturally enough by something like angry resentment. As he +viewed the situation, Maria Consuelo had alternately drawn him on and +disappointed him from the very beginning; she had taken delight in +forcing him to speak out his love, only to chill him the next moment, or +the next day, with the certainty that she did not love him sincerely. +Just then he would have preferred not to put into words the thoughts of +her that crossed his mind. They would have expressed a disbelief in her +character which he did not really feel and an opinion of his own +judgment which he would rather not have accepted. + +He even went so far, in his anger, as to imagine what would happen if he +suddenly rose to go. She would put on that sad look of hers and give him +her hand coldly. Then just as he reached the door she would call him +back, only to send him away again. He would find on the following day +that she had not left town after all, or, at most, that she had gone to +Florence for a day or two, while the workmen completed the furnishing of +her apartment. Then she would come back and would meet him just as +though there had never been anything between them. + +The anticipation was so painful to him that he wished to have it +realised and over as soon as possible, and he looked at her again before +rising from his seat. He could hardly believe that she was the same +woman who had stood with him, watching the thunderstorm, on the previous +afternoon. + +He saw that she was pale, but she was not facing the light and the +expression of her face was not distinctly visible. On the whole, he +fancied that her look was one of indifference. Her hands lay idly upon +her fan and by the drooping of her lids she seemed to be looking at +them. The full, curved lips were closed, but not drawn in as though in +pain, nor pouting as though in displeasure. She appeared to be +singularly calm. After hesitating another moment Orsino rose to his +feet. He had made up his mind what to say, for it was little enough, but +his voice trembled a little. + +"Good-bye, Madame." + +Maria Consuelo started slightly and looked up, as though to see whether +he really meant to go at that moment. She had no idea that he really +thought of taking her at her word and parting then and there. She did +not realise how true it was that she was much older than he and she had +never believed him to be as impulsive as he sometimes seemed. + +"Do not go yet," she said, instinctively. + +"Since you say that we must part--" he stopped, as though leaving her to +finish the sentence in imagination. + +A frightened look passed quickly over Maria Consuelo's face. She made as +though she would have taken his hand, then drew back her own and bit her +lip, not angrily but as though she were controlling something. + +"Since you insist upon our parting," Orsino said, after a short, +strained silence, "it is better that it should be got over at once." In +spite of himself his voice was still unsteady. + +"I did not--no--yes, it is better so." + +"Then good-bye, Madame." + +It was impossible for her to understand all that had passed in his mind +while he had sat beside her, after the previous conversation had ended. +His abruptness and coldness were incomprehensible to her. + +"Good-bye, then--Orsino." + +For a moment her eyes rested on his. It was the sad look he had +anticipated, and she put out her hand now. Surely, he thought, if she +loved him she would not let him go so easily. He took her fingers and +would have raised them to his lips when they suddenly closed on his, not +with the passionate, loving pressure of yesterday, but firmly and +quietly, as though they would not be disobeyed, guiding him again to his +seat close beside her. He sat down. + +"Good-bye, then, Orsino," she repeated, not yet relinquishing her hold. +"Good-bye, dear, since it must be good-bye--but not good-bye as you said +it. You shall not go until you can say it differently." + +She let him go now and changed her own position. Her feet slipped to the +ground and she leaned with her elbow upon the head of the lounge, +resting her cheek against her hand. She was nearer to him now than +before and their eyes met as they faced each other. She had certainly +not chosen her attitude with any second thought of her own appearance, +but as Orsino looked into her face he saw again clearly all the +beauties that he had so long admired, the passionate eyes, the full, +firm mouth, the broad brow, the luminous white skin--all beauties in +themselves though not, together, making real beauty in her case. And +beyond these he saw and felt over them all and through them all the +charm that fascinated him, appealing as it were to him in particular of +all men as it could not appeal to another. He was still angry, disturbed +out of his natural self and almost out of his passion, but he felt none +the less that Maria Consuelo could hold him if she pleased, as long as a +shadow of affection for her remained in him, and perhaps longer. When +she spoke, he knew what she meant, and he did not interrupt her nor +attempt to answer. + +"I have meant all I have said to-day," she continued. "Do not think it +is easy for me to say more. I would give all I have to give to take back +yesterday, for yesterday was my great mistake. I am only a woman and you +will forgive me. I do what I am doing now, for your sake--God knows it +is not for mine. God knows how hard it is for me to part from you. I am +in earnest, you see. You believe me now." + +Her voice was steady but the tears were already welling over. + +"Yes, dear, I believe you," Orsino answered softly. Women's tears are a +great solvent of man's ill temper. + +"As for this being right and best, this parting, you will see it as I do +sooner or later. But you do believe that I love you, dearly, tenderly, +very--well, no matter how--you believe it?" + +"I believe it--" + +"Then say 'good-bye, Consuelo'--and kiss me once--for what might have +been." + +Orsino half rose, bent down and kissed her cheek. + +"Good-bye, Consuelo," he said, almost whispering the words into her ear. +In his heart he did not think she meant it. He still expected that she +would call him back. + +"It is good-bye, dear--believe it--remember it!" Her voice shook a +little now. + +"Good-bye, Consuelo," he repeated. + +With a loving look that meant no good-bye he drew back and went to the +door. He laid his hand on the handle and paused. She did not speak. Then +he looked at her again. Her head had fallen back against a cushion and +her eyes were half closed. He waited a second and a keen pain shot +through him. Perhaps she was in earnest after all. In an instant he had +recrossed the room and was on his knees beside her trying to take her +hands. + +"Consuelo--darling--you do not really mean it! You cannot, you will +not--" + +He covered her hands with kisses and pressed them to his heart. For a +few moments she made no movement, but her eyelids quivered. Then she +sprang to her feet, pushing him back violently as he rose with her, and +turning her face from him. + +"Go--go!" she cried wildly. "Go--let me never see you again--never, +never!" + +Before he could stop her, she had passed him with a rush like a swallow +on the wing and was gone from the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + + +Orsino was not in an enviable frame of mind when he left the hotel. It +is easier to bear suffering when one clearly understands all its causes, +and distinguishes just how great a part of it is inevitable and how +great a part may be avoided or mitigated. In the present case there was +much in the situation which it passed his power to analyse or +comprehend. He still possessed the taste for discovering motives in the +actions of others as well as in his own, but many months of a busy life +had dulled the edge of the artificial logic in which he had formerly +delighted, while greatly sharpening his practical wit. Artificial +analysis supplies from the imagination the details lacking in facts, but +common sense needs something more tangible upon which to work. Orsino +felt that the chief circumstance which had determined Maria Consuelo's +conduct had escaped him, and he sought in vain to detect it. + +He rejected the supposition that she was acting upon a caprice, that she +had yesterday believed it possible to marry him, while a change of +humour made marriage seem out of the question to-day. She was as +capricious as most women, perhaps, but not enough so for that. Besides, +she had been really consistent. Not even yesterday had she been shaken +for a moment in her resolution not to be Orsino's wife. To-day had +confirmed yesterday therefore. However Orsino might have still doubted +her intention when he had gone to her side for the last time, her +behaviour then and her final words had been unmistakable. She meant to +leave Rome at once. + +Yet the reasons she had given him for her conduct were not sufficient in +his eyes. The difference of age was so small that it could safely be +disregarded. Her promise to the dying Aranjuez was an engagement, he +thought, by which no person of sense should expect her to abide. As for +the question of her birth, he relied on that speech of Spicca's which he +so well remembered. Spicca might have spoken the words thoughtlessly, it +was true, and believing that Orsino would never, under any circumstances +whatever, think seriously of marrying Maria Consuelo. But Spicca was not +a man who often spoke carelessly, and what he said generally meant at +least as much as it appeared to mean. + +It was doubtless true that Maria Consuelo was ignorant of her mother's +name. Nevertheless, it was quite possible that her mother had been +Spicca's wife. Spicca's life was said to be full of strange events not +generally known. But though his daughter might, and doubtless did +believe herself a nameless child, and, as such, no match for the heir +of the Saracinesca, Orsino could not see why she should have insisted +upon a parting so sudden, so painful and so premature. She knew as much +yesterday and had known it all along. Why, if she possessed such +strength of character, had she allowed matters to go so far when she +could easily have interrupted the course of events at an earlier period? +He did not admit that she perhaps loved him so much as to have been +carried away by her passion until she found herself on the point of +doing him an injury by marrying him, and that her love was strong enough +to induce her to sacrifice herself at the critical moment. Though he +loved her much he did not believe her to be heroic in any way. On the +contrary, he said to himself that if she were sincere, and if her love +were at all like his own, she would let no obstacle stand in the way of +it. To him, the test of love must be its utter recklessness. He could +not believe that a still better test may be, and is, the constant +forethought for the object of love, and the determination to protect +that object from all danger in the present and from all suffering in the +future, no matter at what cost. + +Perhaps it is not easy to believe that recklessness is a manifestation +of the second degree of passion, while the highest shows itself in +painful sacrifice. Yet the most daring act of chivalry never called for +half the bravery shown by many a martyr at the stake, and if courage be +a measure of true passion, the passion which will face life-long +suffering to save its object from unhappiness or degradation is greater +than the passion which, for the sake of possessing its object, drags it +into danger and the risk of ruin. It may be that all this is untrue, and +that the action of these two imaginary individuals, the one sacrificing +himself, the other endangering the loved one, is dependent upon the +balance of the animal, intellectual and moral elements in each. We do +not know much about the causes of what we feel, in spite of modern +analysis; but the heart rarely deceives us, when we can see the truth +for ourselves, into bestowing the more praise upon the less brave of two +deeds. But we do not often see the truth as it is. We know little of the +lives of others, but we are apt to think that other people understand +our own very well, including our good deeds if we have done any, and we +expect full measure of credit for these, and the utmost allowance of +charity for our sins. In other words we desire our neighbour to combine +a power of forgiveness almost divine with a capacity for flattery more +than parasitic. That is why we are not easily satisfied with our +acquaintances and that is why our friends do not always turn out to be +truthful persons. We ask too much for the low price we offer, and if we +insist we get the imitation. + +Orsino loved Maria Consuelo with all his heart, as much as a young man +of little more than one and twenty can love the first woman to whom he +is seriously attached. There was nothing heroic in the passion, perhaps, +nothing which could ultimately lead to great results. But it was a +strong love, nevertheless, with much, of devotion in it and some latent +violence. If he did not marry Maria Consuelo, it was not likely that he +would ever love again in exactly the same way. His next love would be +either far better or far worse, far nobler or far baser--perhaps a +little less human in either case. + +He walked slowly away from the hotel, unconscious of the people in the +street and not thinking of the direction he took. His brain was in a +whirl and his thoughts seemed to revolve round some central point upon +which they could not concentrate themselves even for a second. The only +thing of which he was sure was that Maria Consuelo had taken herself +from him suddenly and altogether, leaving him with a sense of loneliness +which he had not known before. He had gone to her in considerable +distress about his affairs, with the certainty of finding sympathy and +perhaps advice. He came away, as some men have returned from a grave +accident, apparently unscathed it may be, but temporarily deprived of +some one sense, of sight, or hearing, or touch. He was not sure that he +was awake, and his troubled reflexions came back by the same unvarying +round to the point he had reached the first time--if Maria Consuelo +really loved him, she would not let such obstacles as she spoke of +hinder her union with him. + +For a time Orsino was not conscious of any impulse to act. Gradually, +however, his real nature asserted itself, and he remembered how he had +told her not long ago that if she went away he would follow her, and how +he had said that the world was small and that he would soon find her +again. It would undoubtedly be a simple matter to accompany her, if she +left Rome. He could easily ascertain the hour of her intended departure +and that alone would tell him the direction she had chosen. When she +found that she had not escaped him she would very probably give up the +attempt and come back, her humour would change and his own eloquence +would do the rest. + +He stopped in his walk, looked at his watch and glanced about him. He +was at some distance from the hotel and it was growing dusk, for the +days were already short. If Maria Consuelo really meant to leave Rome +precipitately, she might go by the evening train to Paris and in that +case the people of the hotel would have been informed of her intended +departure. + +Orsino only admitted the possibility of her actually going away while +believing in his heart that she would remain. He slowly retraced his +steps, and it was seven o'clock before he asked the hotel porter by what +train Madame d'Aranjuez was leaving. The porter did not know whether the +lady was going north or south, but he called another man, who went in +search of a third, who disappeared for some time. + +"Is it sure that Madame d'Aranjuez goes to-night?" asked Orsino trying +to look indifferent. + +"Quite sure. Her rooms will be free to-morrow." + +Orsino turned away and slowly paced up and down the marble pavement +between the tall plants, waiting for the messenger to come back. + +"Madame d'Aranjuez leaves at nine forty-five," said the man, suddenly +reappearing. + +Orsino hesitated a moment, and then made up his mind. + +"Ask Madame if she will receive me for a moment," he said, producing a +card. + +The servant went away and again Orsino walked backwards and forwards, +pale now and very nervous. She was really going, and was going +north--probably to Paris. + +"Madame regrets infinitely that she is not able to receive the Signor +Prince," said the man in black at Orsino's elbow. "She is making her +preparations for the journey." + +"Show me where I can write a note," said Orsino, who had expected the +answer. + +He was shown into the reading-room and writing materials were set before +him. He hurriedly wrote a few words to Maria Consuelo, without form of +address and without signature. + +"I will not let you go without me. If you will not see me, I will be in +the train, and I will not leave you, wherever you go. I am in earnest." + +He looked at the sheet of note-paper and wondered that he should find +nothing more to say. But he had said all he meant, and sealing the +little note he sent it up to Maria Consuelo with a request for an +immediate answer. Just then the dinner bell of the hotel was rung. The +reading-room was deserted. He waited five minutes, then ten, nervously +turning over the newspapers and reviews on the long table, but quite +unable to read even the printed titles. He rang and asked if there had +been no answer to his note. The man was the same whom he had sent +before. He said the note had been received at the door by the maid who +had said that Madame d'Aranjuez would ring when her answer was ready. +Orsino dismissed the servant and waited again. It crossed his mind that +the maid might have pocketed the note and said nothing about it, for +reasons of her own. He had almost determined to go upstairs and boldly +enter the sitting-room, when the door opposite to him opened and Maria +Consuelo herself appeared. + +She was dressed in a dark close-fitting travelling costume, but she wore +no hat. Her face was quite colourless and looked if possible even more +unnaturally pale by contrast with her bright auburn hair. She shut the +door behind her and stood still, facing Orsino in the glare of the +electric lights. + +"I did not mean to see you again," she said, slowly. "You have forced me +to it." + +Orsino made a step forward and tried to take her hand, but she drew +back. The slight uncertainty often visible in the direction of her +glance had altogether disappeared and her eyes met Orsino's directly and +fearlessly. + +"Yes," he answered. "I have forced you to it. I know it, and you cannot +reproach me if I have. I will not leave you. I am going with you +wherever you go." + +He spoke calmly, considering the great emotion he felt, and there was a +quiet determination in his words and tone which told how much he was in +earnest. Maria Consuelo half believed that she could dominate him by +sheer force of will, and she would not give up the idea, even now. + +"You will not go with me, you will not even attempt it," she said. + +It would have been difficult to guess from her face at that moment that +she loved him. Her face was pale and the expression was almost hard. She +held her head high as though she were looking down at him, though he +towered above her from his shoulders. + +"You do not understand me," he answered, quietly. "When I say that I +will go with you, I mean that I will go." + +"Is this a trial of strength?" she asked after a moment's pause. + +"If it is, I am not conscious of it. It costs me no effort to go--it +would cost me much to stay behind--too much." + +He stood quite still before her, looking steadily into her eyes. There +was a short silence, and then she suddenly looked down, moved and turned +away, beginning to walk slowly about. The room was large, and he paced +the floor beside her, looking down at her bent head. + +"Will you stay if I ask you to?" + +The question came in a lower and softer tone than she had used before. + +"I will go with you," answered Orsino as firmly as ever. + +"Will you do nothing for my asking?" + +"I will do anything but that." + +"But that is all I ask." + +"You are asking the impossible." + +"There are many reasons why you should not come with me. Have you +thought of them all?" + +"No." + +"You should. You ought to know, without being told by me, that you would +be doing me a great injustice and a great injury in following me. You +ought to know what the world will say of it. Remember that I am alone." + +"I will marry you." + +"I have told you that it is impossible--no, do not answer me! I will not +go over all that again. I am going away to-night. That is the principal +thing--the only thing that concerns you. Of course, if you choose, you +can get into the same train and pursue me to the end of the world. I +cannot prevent you. I thought I could, but I was mistaken. I am alone. +Remember that, Orsino. You know as well as I what will be said--and the +fact is sure to be known." + +"People will say that I am following you--" + +"They will say that we are gone together, for every one will have reason +to say it. Do you suppose that nobody is aware of our--our intimacy +during the last month?" + +"Why not say our love?" + +"Because I hope no one knows of that--well, if they do--Orsino, be kind! +Let me go alone--as a man of honour, do not injure me by leaving Rome +with me, nor by following me when I am gone!" + +She stopped and looked up into his face with an imploring glance. To +tell the truth, Orsino had not foreseen that she might appeal to his +honour, alleging the danger to her reputation. He bit his lip and +avoided her eyes. It was hard to yield, and to yield so quickly, as it +seemed to him. + +"How long will you stay away?" he asked in a constrained voice. + +"I shall not come back at all." + +He wondered at the firmness of her tone and manner. Whatever the real +ground of her resolution might be, the resolution itself had gained +strength since they had parted little more than an hour earlier. The +belief suddenly grew upon him again that she did not love him. + +"Why are you going at all?" he asked abruptly. "If you loved me at all, +you would stay." + +She drew a sharp breath and clasped her hands nervously together. + +"I should stay if I loved you less. But I have told you--I will not go +over it all again. This must end--this saying good-bye! It is easier to +end it at once." + +"Easier for you--" + +"You do not know what you are saying. You will know some day. If you can +bear this, I cannot." + +"Then stay--if you love me, as you say you do." + +"As I say I do!" + +Her eyes grew very grave and sad as she stopped and looked at him again. +Then she held out both her hands. + +"I am going, now. Good-bye." + +The blood came back to Orsino's face. It seemed to him that he had +reached the crisis of his life and his instinct was to struggle hard +against his fate. With a quick movement he caught her in his arms, +lifting her from her feet and pressing her close to him. + +"You shall not go!" + +He kissed her passionately again and again, while she fought to be free, +straining at his arms with her small white hands and trying to turn her +face from him. + +"Why do you struggle? It is of no use." He spoke in very soft deep +tones, close to her ear. + +She shook her head desperately and still did her best to slip from him, +though she might as well have tried to break iron clamps with her +fingers. + +"It is of no use," he repeated, pressing her still more closely to him. + +"Let me go!" she cried, making a violent effort, as fruitless as the +last. + +"No!" + +Then she was quite still, realising that she had no chance with him. + +"Is it manly to be brutal because you are strong?" she asked. "You hurt +me." + +Orsino's arms relaxed, and he let her go. She drew a long breath and +moved a step backward and towards the door. + +"Good-bye," she said again. But this time she did not hold out her hand, +though she looked long and fixedly into his face. + +Orsino made a movement as though he would have caught her again. She +started and put out her hand behind her towards the latch. But he did +not touch her. She softly opened the door, looked at him once more and +went out. + +When he realised that she was gone he sprang after her, calling her by +name. + +"Consuelo!" + +There were a few people walking in the broad passage. They stared at +Orsino, but he did not heed them as he passed by. Maria Consuelo was not +there, and he understood in a moment that it would be useless to seek +her further. He stood still a moment, entered the reading-room again, +got his hat and left the hotel without looking behind him. + +All sorts of wild ideas and schemes flashed through his brain, each more +absurd and impracticable than the last. He thought of going back and +finding Maria Consuelo's maid--he might bribe her to prevent her +mistress's departure. He thought of offering the driver of the train an +enormous sum to do some injury to his engine before reaching the first +station out of Rome. He thought of stopping Maria Consuelo's carriage on +her way to the tram and taking her by main force to his father's house. +If she were compromised in such a way, she would be almost obliged to +marry him. He afterwards wondered at the stupidity of his own inventions +on that evening, but at the time nothing looked impossible. + +He bethought him of Spicca. Perhaps the old man possessed some power +over his daughter after all and could prevent her flight if he chose. +There were yet nearly two hours left before the train started. If worst +came to worst, Orsino could still get to the station at the last minute +and leave Rome with her. + +He took a passing cab and drove to Spicca's lodgings. The count was at +home, writing a letter by the light of a small lamp. He looked up in +surprise as Orsino entered, then rose and offered him a chair. + +"What has happened, my friend?" he asked, glancing curiously at the +young man's face. + +"Everything," answered Orsino. "I love Madame d'Aranjuez, she loves me, +she absolutely refuses to marry me and she is going to Paris at a +quarter to ten. I know she is your daughter and I want you to prevent +her from leaving. That is all, I believe." + +Spicca's cadaverous face did not change, but the hollow eyes grew bright +and fixed their glance on an imaginary point at an immense distance, and +the thin hand that lay on the edge of the table closed slowly upon the +projecting wood. For a few moments he said nothing, but when he spoke he +seemed quite calm. + +"If she has told you that she is my daughter," he said, "I presume that +she has told you the rest. Is that true?" + +Orsino was impatient for Spicca to take some immediate action, but he +understood that the count had a right to ask the question. + +"She has told me that she does not know her mother's name, and that you +killed her husband." + +"Both these statements are perfectly true at all events. Is that all you +know?" + +"All? Yes--all of importance. But there is no time to be lost. No one +but you can prevent her from leaving Rome to-night. You must help me +quickly." + +Spicca looked gravely at Orsino and shook his head. The light that had +shone in his eyes for a moment was gone, and he was again his habitual, +melancholy, indifferent self. + +"I cannot stop her," he said, almost listlessly. + +"But you can--you will, you must!" cried Orsino laying a hand on the old +man's thin arm. "She must not go--" + +"Better that she should, after all. Of what use is it for her to stay? +She is quite right. You cannot marry her." + +"Cannot marry her? Why not? It is not long since you told me very +plainly that you wished I would marry her. You have changed your mind +very suddenly, it seems to me, and I would like to know why. Do you +remember all you said to me?" + +"Yes, and I was in earnest, as I am now. And I was wrong in telling you +what I thought at the time." + +"At the time! How can matters have changed so suddenly?" + +"I do not say that matters have changed. I have. That is the important +thing. I remember the occasion of our conversation very well. Madame +d'Aranjuez had been rather abrupt with, me, and you and I went away +together. I forgave her easily enough, for I saw that she was +unhappy--then I thought how different her life might be if she were +married to you. I also wished to convey to you a warning, and it did not +strike me that you would ever seriously contemplate such a marriage." + +"I think you are in a certain way responsible for the present +situation," answered Orsino. "That is the reason why I come to you for +help." + +Spicca turned upon the young man rather suddenly. + +"There you go too far," he said. "Do you mean to tell me that you have +asked that lady to marry you because I suggested it?" + +"No, but--" + +"Then I am not responsible at all. Besides, you might have consulted me +again, if you had chosen. I have not been out of town. I sincerely wish +that it were possible--yes, that is quite another matter. But it is not. +If Madame d'Aranjuez thinks it is not, from her point of view there are +a thousand reasons why I should consider it far more completely out of +the question. As for preventing her from leaving Rome I could not do +that even were I willing to try." + +"Then I will go with her," said Orsino, angrily. + +Spicca looked at him in silence for a few moments. Orsino rose to his +feet and prepared to go. + +"You leave me no choice," he said, as though Spicca had protested. + +"Because I cannot and will not stop her? Is that any reason why you +should compromise her reputation as you propose to do?" + +"It is the best of reasons. She will marry me then, out of necessity." + +Spicca rose also, with more alacrity than generally characterised his +movements. He stood before the empty fireplace, watching the young man +narrowly. + +"It is not a good reason," he said, presently, in quiet tones. "You are +not the man to do that sort of thing. You are too honourable." + +"I do not see anything dishonourable in following the woman I love." + +"That depends on the way in which you follow her. If you go quietly home +to-night and write to your father that you have decided to go to Paris +for a few days and will leave to-morrow, if you make your arrangements +like a sensible being and go away like a sane man, I have nothing to say +in the matter--" + +"I presume not--" interrupted Orsino, facing the old man somewhat +fiercely. + +"Very well. We will not quarrel yet. We will reserve that pleasure for +the moment when you cease to understand me. That way of following her +would be bad enough, but no one would have any right to stop you." + +"No one has any right to stop me, as it is." + +"I beg your pardon. The present circumstances are different. In the +first instance the world would say that you were in love with Madame +d'Aranjuez and were pursuing her to press your suit--of whatever nature +that might be. In the second case the world will assert that you and +she, not meaning to be married, have adopted the simple plan of going +away together. That implies her consent, and you have no right to let +any one imply that. I say, it is not honourable to let people think that +a lady is risking her reputation for you and perhaps sacrificing it +altogether, when she is in reality trying to escape from you. Am I +right, or not?" + +"You are ingenious, at all events. You talk as though the whole world +were to know in half an hour that I have gone to Paris in the same train +with Madame d'Aranjuez. That is absurd!" + +"Is it? I think not. Half an hour is little, perhaps, but half a day is +enough. You are not an insignificant son of an unknown Roman citizen, +nor is Madame d'Aranjuez a person who passes unnoticed. Reporters watch +people like you for items of news, and you are perfectly well known by +sight. Apart from that, do you think that your servants will not tell +your friends' servants of your sudden departure, or that Madame +d'Aranjuez' going will not be observed? You ought to know Rome better +than that. I ask you again, am I right or wrong?" + +"What difference will it make, if we are married immediately?" + +"She will never marry you. I am convinced of that." + +"How can you know? Has she spoken to you about it?" + +"I am the last person to whom she would come." + +"Her own father--" + +"With limitations. Besides, I had the misfortune to deprive her of the +chosen companion of her life, and at a critical moment. She has not +forgotten that." + +"No she has not," answered Orsino gloomily. The memory of Aranjuez was a +sore point. "Why did you kill him?" he asked, suddenly. + +"Because he was an adventurer, a liar and a thief--three excellent +reasons for killing any man, if one can. Moreover he struck her +once--with that silver paper cutter which she insists on using--and I +saw it from a distance. Then I killed him. Unluckily I was very angry +and made a little mistake, so that he lived twelve hours, and she had +time to get a priest and marry him. She always pretends that he struck +her in play, by accident, as he was showing her something about fencing. +I was in the next room and the door was open--it did not look like play. +And she still thinks that he was the paragon of all virtues. He was a +handsome devil--something like you, but shorter, with a bad eye. I am +glad I killed him." + +Spicca had looked steadily at Orsino while speaking. When he ceased, he +began to walk about the small room with something of his old energy. +Orsino roused himself. He had almost begun to forget his own position in +the interest of listening to the count's short story. + +"So much for Aranjuez," said Spicca. "Let us hear no more of him. As for +this mad plan of yours, you are convinced, I suppose, and you will give +it up. Go home and decide in the morning. For my part, I tell you it is +useless. She will not marry you. Therefore leave her alone and do +nothing which can injure her." + +"I am not convinced," answered Orsino doggedly. + +"Then you are not your father's son. No Saracinesca that I ever knew +would do what you mean to do--would wantonly tarnish the good name of a +woman--of a woman who loves him too--and whose only fault is that she +cannot marry him." + +"That she will not." + +"That she cannot." + +"Do you give me your word that she cannot?" + +"She is legally free to marry whom she pleases, with or without my +consent." + +"That is all I want to know. The rest is nothing to me--" + +"The rest is a great deal. I beg you to consider all I have said, and I +am sure that you will, quite sure. There are very good reasons for not +telling you or any one else all the details I know in this story--so +good that I would rather go to the length of a quarrel with you than +give them all. I am an old man, Orsino, and what is left of life does +not mean much to me. I will sacrifice it to prevent your opening this +door unless you tell me that you give up the idea of leaving Rome +to-night." + +As he spoke he placed himself before the closed door and faced the young +man. He was old, emaciated, physically broken down, and his hands were +empty. Orsino was in his first youth, tall, lean, active and very +strong, and no coward. He was moreover in an ugly humour and inclined to +be violent on much smaller provocation than he had received. But Spicca +imposed upon him, nevertheless, for he saw that he was in earnest. +Orsino was never afterwards able to recall exactly what passed through +his mind at that moment. He was physically able to thrust Spicca aside +and to open the door, without so much as hurting him. He did not +believe that, even in that case, the old man would have insisted upon +the satisfaction of arms, nor would he have been afraid to meet him if a +duel had been required. He knew that what withheld him from an act of +violence was neither fear nor respect for his adversary's weakness and +age. Yet he was quite unable to define the influence which at last broke +down his resolution. It was in all probability only the resultant of the +argument Spicca had brought to bear and which Maria Consuelo had herself +used in the first instance, and of Spicca's calm, undaunted personality. + +The crisis did not last long. The two men faced each other for ten +seconds and then Orsino turned away with an impatient movement of the +shoulders. + +"Very well," he said. "I will not go with her." + +"It is best so," answered Spicca, leaving the door and returning to his +seat. + +"I suppose that she will let you know where she is, will she not?" asked +Orsino. + +"Yes. She will write to me." + +"Good-night, then." + +"Good-night." + +Without shaking hands, and almost without a glance at the old man, +Orsino left the room. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + + +Orsino walked slowly homeward, trying to collect his thoughts and to +reach some distinct determination with regard to the future. He was +oppressed by the sense of failure and disappointment and felt inclined +to despise himself for his weakness in yielding so easily. To all +intents and purposes he had lost Maria Consuelo, and if he had not lost +her through his own fault, he had at least tamely abandoned what had +seemed like a last chance of winning her back. As he thought of all that +had happened he tried to fix some point in the past, at which he might +have acted differently, and from which another act of consequence might +have begun. But that was not easy. Events had followed each other with a +certain inevitable logic, which only looked unreasonable because he +suspected the existence of facts beyond his certain knowledge. His great +mistake had been in going to Spicca, but nothing could have been more +natural, under the circumstances, than his appeal to Maria Consuelo's +father, nothing more unexpected than the latter's determined refusal to +help him. That there was weight in the argument used by both Spicca and +Maria Consuelo herself, he could not deny; but he failed to see why the +marriage was so utterly impossible as they both declared it to be. There +must be much more behind the visible circumstances than he could guess. + +He tried to comfort himself with the assurance that he could leave Rome +on the following day, and that Spicca would not refuse to give him Maria +Consuelo's address in Paris. But the consolation he derived from the +idea was small. He found himself wondering at the recklessness shown by +the woman he loved in escaping from him. His practical Italian mind +could hardly understand how she could have changed all her plans in a +moment, abandoning her half-furnished apartment without a word of notice +even to the workmen, throwing over her intention of spending the winter +in Rome as though she had not already spent many thousands in preparing +her dwelling, and going away, probably, without as much as leaving a +representative to wind up her accounts. It may seem strange that a man +as much in love as Orsino was should think of such details at such a +moment. Perhaps he looked upon them rather as proofs that she meant to +come back after all; in any case he thought of them seriously, and even +calculated roughly the sum she would be sacrificing if she stayed away. + +Beyond all he felt the dismal loneliness which a man can only feel when +he is suddenly and effectually parted from the woman he dearly loves, +and which is not like any other sensation of which the human heart is +capable. + +More than once, up to the last possible moment, he was tempted to drive +to the station and leave with Maria Consuelo after all, but he would not +break the promise he had given Spicca, no matter how weak he had been in +giving it. + +On reaching his home he was informed, to his great surprise, that San +Giacinto was waiting to see him. He could not remember that his cousin +had ever before honoured him with a visit and he wondered what could +have brought him now and induced him to wait, just at the hour when most +people were at dinner. + +The giant was reading the evening paper, with the help of a particularly +strong cigar. + +"I am glad you have come home," he said, rising and taking the young +man's outstretched hand. "I should have waited until you did." + +"Has anything happened?" asked Orsino nervously. It struck him that San +Giacinto might be the bearer of some bad news about his people, and the +grave expression on the strongly marked face helped the idea. + +"A great deal is happening. The crash has begun. You must get out of +your business in less than three days if you can." + +Orsino drew a breath of relief at first, and then grew grave in his +turn, realising that unless matters were very serious such a man as San +Giacinto would not put himself to the inconvenience of coming. San +Giacinto was little given to offering advice unasked, still less to +interfering in the affairs of others. + +"I understand," said Orsino. "You think that everything is going to +pieces. I see." + +The big man looked at his young cousin with something like pity. + +"If I only suspected, or thought--as you put it--that there was to be a +collapse of business, I should not have taken the trouble to warn you. +The crash has actually begun. If you can save yourself, do so at once." + +"I think I can," answered the young man, bravely. But he did not at all +see how his salvation was to be accomplished. "Can you tell me a little +more definitely what is the matter? Have there been any more failures +to-day?" + +"My brother-in-law Montevarchi is on the point of stopping payment," +said San Giacinto calmly. + +"Montevarchi!" + +Orsino did not conceal his astonishment. + +"Yes. Do not speak of it. And he is in precisely the same position, so +far as I can judge of your affairs, as you yourself, though of course he +has dealt with sums ten times as great. He will make enormous sacrifices +and will pay, I suppose, after all. But he will be quite ruined. He also +has worked with Del Fence's bank." + +"And the bank refuses to discount any more of his paper?" + +"Precisely. Since this afternoon." + +"Then it will refuse to discount mine to-morrow." + +"Have you acceptances due to-morrow?" + +"Yes--not much, but enough to make the trouble. It will be Saturday, +too, and we must have money for the workmen." + +"Have you not even enough in reserve for that?" + +"Perhaps. I cannot tell. Besides, if the bank refuses to renew I cannot +draw a cheque." + +"I am sorry for you. If I had known yesterday how near the end was, I +would have warned you." + +"Thanks. I am grateful as it is. Can you give me any advice?" + +Orsino had a vague idea that his rich cousin would generously propose to +help him out of his difficulties. He was not quite sure whether he could +bring himself to accept such assistance, but he more than half expected +that it would be offered. In this, however, he was completely mistaken. +San Giacinto had not the smallest intention of offering anything more +substantial than his opinion. Considering that his wife's brother's +liabilities amounted to something like five and twenty millions, this +was not surprising. The giant bit his cigar and folded his long arms +over his enormous chest, leaning back in the easy chair which creaked +under his weight. + +"You have tried yourself in business by this time, Orsino," he said, +"and you know as well as I what there is to be done. You have three +modes of action open to you. You can fail. It is a simple affair enough. +The bank will take your buildings for what they will be worth a few +months hence, on the day of liquidation. There will be a big deficit, +which your father will pay for you and deduct from your share of the +division at his death. That is one plan, and seems to me the best. It is +perfectly honourable, and you lose by it. Secondly, you can go to your +father to-morrow and ask him to lend you money to meet your acceptances +and to continue the work until the houses are finished and can be sold. +They will ultimately go for a quarter of their value, if you can sell +them at all within the year, and you will be in your father's debt, +exactly as in the other case. You would avoid the publicity of a +failure, but it would cost you more, because the houses will not be +worth much more when they are finished than they are now." + +"And the third plan--what is it?" inquired Orsino. + +"The third way is this. You can go to Del Ferice, and if you are a +diplomatist you may persuade him that it is in his interest not to let +you fail. I do not think you will succeed, but you can try. If he agrees +it will be because he counts on your father to pay in the end, but it is +questionable whether Del Ferice's bank can afford to let out any more +cash at the present moment. Money is going to be very tight, as they +say." + +Orsino smoked in silence, pondering over the situation. San Giacinto +rose. + +"You are warned, at all events," he said. "You will find a great change +for the worse in the general aspect of things to-morrow." + +"I am much obliged for the warning," answered Orsino. "I suppose I can +always find you if I need your advice--and you will advise me?" + +"You are welcome to my advice, such as it is, my dear boy. But as for +me, I am going towards Naples to-night on business, and I may not be +back again for a day or two. If you get into serious trouble before I am +here again, you should go to your father at once. He knows nothing of +business, and has been sensible enough to keep out of it. The +consequence is that he is as rich as ever, and he would sacrifice a +great deal rather than see your name dragged into the publicity of a +failure. Good-night, and good luck to you." + +Thereupon the Titan shook Orsino's hand in his mighty grip and went +away. As a matter of fact he was going down to look over one of +Montevarchi's biggest estates with a view to buying it in the coming +cataclysm, but it would not have been like him to communicate the +smallest of his intentions to Orsino, or to any one, not excepting his +wife and his lawyer. + +Orsino was left to his own devices and meditations. A servant came in +and inquired whether he wished to dine at home, and he ordered strong +coffee by way of a meal. He was at the age when a man expects to find a +way out of his difficulties in an artificial excitement of the nerves. + +Indeed, he had enough to disturb him, for it seemed as though all +possible misfortunes had fallen upon him at once. He had suffered on the +same day the greatest shock to his heart, and the greatest blow to his +vanity which he could conceive possible. Maria Consuelo was gone and the +failure of his business was apparently inevitable. When he tried to +review the three plans which San Giacinto had suggested, he found +himself suddenly thinking of the woman he loved and making schemes for +following her; but so soon as he had transported himself in imagination +to her side and was beginning to hope that he might win her back, he +was torn away and plunged again into the whirlpool of business at home, +struggling with unheard of difficulties and sinking deeper at every +stroke. + +A hundred times he rose from his chair and paced the floor impatiently, +and a hundred times he threw himself down again, overcome by the +hopelessness of the situation. Occasionally he found a little comfort in +the reflexion that the night could not last for ever. When the day came +he would be driven to act, in one way or another, and he would be +obliged to consult his partner, Contini. Then at last his mind would be +able to follow one connected train of thought for a time, and he would +get rest of some kind. + +Little by little, however, and long before the day dawned, the +dominating influence asserted itself above the secondary one and he was +thinking only of Maria Consuelo. Throughout all that night she was +travelling, as she would perhaps travel throughout all the next day and +the second night succeeding that. For she was strong and having once +determined upon the journey would very probably go to the end of it +without stopping to rest. He wondered whether she too were waking +through all those long hours, thinking of what she had left behind, or +whether she had closed her eyes and found the peace of sleep for which +he longed in vain. He thought of her face, softly lighted by the dim +lamp of the railway carriage, and fancied he could actually see it with +the delicate shadows, the subdued richness of colour, the settled look +of sadness. When the picture grew dim, he recalled it by a strong +effort, though he knew that each time it rose before his eyes he must +feel the same sharp thrust of pain, followed by the same dull wave of +hopeless misery which had ebbed and flowed again so many times since he +had parted from her. + +At last he roused himself, looked about him as though he were in a +strange place, lighted a candle and betook himself to his own quarters. +It was very late, and he was more tired than he knew, for in spite of +all his troubles he fell asleep and did not awake till the sun was +streaming into the room. + +Some one knocked at the door, and a servant announced that Signor +Contini was waiting to see Don Orsino. The man's face expressed a sort +of servile surprise when he saw that Orsino had not undressed for the +night and had been sleeping on the divan. He began to busy himself with +the toilet things as though expecting Orsino to take some thought for +his appearance. But the latter was anxious to see Contini at once, and +sent for him. + +The architect was evidently very much disturbed. He was as pale as +though he had just recovered from a long illness and he seemed to have +grown suddenly emaciated during the night. He spoke in a low, excited +tone. + +In substance he told Orsino what San Giacinto had said on the previous +evening. Things looked very black indeed, and Del Ferice's bank had +refused to discount any more of Prince Montevarchi's paper. + +"And we must have money to-day," Contini concluded. + +When he had finished speaking his excitement disappeared and he relapsed +into the utmost dejection. Orsino remained silent for some time and then +lit a cigarette. + +"You need not be so down-hearted, Contini," he said at last. "I shall +not have any difficulty in getting money--you know that. What I feel +most is the moral failure." + +"What is the moral failure to me?" asked Contini gloomily. "It is all +very well to talk of getting money. The bank will shut its tills like a +steel trap and to-day is Saturday, and there are the workmen and others +to be paid, and several bills due into the bargain. Of course your +family can give you millions--in time. But we need cash to-day. That is +the trouble." + +"I suppose the state telegraph is not destroyed because Prince +Montevarchi cannot meet his acceptances," observed Orsino. "And I +imagine that our steward here in the house has enough cash for our +needs, and will not hesitate to hand it to me if he receives a telegram +from my father ordering him to do so. Whether he has enough to take up +the bills or not, I do not know; but as to-day is Saturday we have all +day to-morrow to make arrangements. I could even go out to Saracinesca +and be back on Monday morning when the bank opens." + +"You seem to take a hopeful view." + +"I have not the least hope of saving the business. But the question of +ready money does not of itself disturb me." + +This was undoubtedly true, but it was also undeniable that Orsino now +looked upon the prospect of failure with more equanimity than on the +previous evening. On the other hand he felt even more keenly than before +all the pain of his sudden separation from Maria Consuelo. When a man is +assailed, by several misfortunes at once, twenty-four hours are +generally enough to sift the small from the great and to show him +plainly which is the greatest of all. + +"What shall we do this morning?" inquired Contini. + +"You ask the question as though you were going to propose a picnic," +answered Orsino. "I do not see why this morning need be so different +from other mornings." + +"We must stop the works instantly--" + +"Why? At all events we will change nothing until we find out the real +state of business. The first thing to be done is to go to the bank as +usual on Saturdays. We shall then know exactly what to do." + +Contini shook his head gloomily and went away to wait in another room +while Orsino dressed. An hour later they were at the bank. Contini grew +paler than ever. The head clerk would of course inform them that no more +bills would be discounted, and that they must meet those already out +when they fell due. He would also tell them that the credit balance of +their account current would not be at their disposal until their +acceptances were met. Orsino would probably at last believe that the +situation was serious, though he now looked so supremely and scornfully +indifferent to events. + +They waited some time. Several men were engaged in earnest conversation, +and their faces told plainly enough that they were in trouble. The head +clerk was standing with them, and made a sign to Orsino, signifying that +they would soon go. Orsino watched him. From time to time he shook his +head and made gestures which indicated his utter inability to do +anything for them. Contini's courage sank lower and lower. + +"I will ask for Del Ferice at once," said Orsino. + +He accordingly sought out one of the men who wore the bank's livery and +told him to take his card to the count. + +"The Signor Commendatore is not coming this morning," answered the man +mysteriously. + +Orsino went back to the head clerk, interrupting his conversation with +the others. He inquired if it were true that Del Ferice were not coming. + +"It is not probable," answered the clerk with a grave face. "They say +that the Signora Contessa is not likely to live through the day." + +"Is Donna Tullia ill?" asked Orsino in considerable astonishment. + +"She returned from Naples yesterday morning, and was taken ill in the +afternoon--it is said to be apoplexy," he added in a low voice. "If you +will have patience Signor Principe, I will be at your disposal in five +minutes." + +Orsino was obliged to be satisfied and sat down again by Contini. He +told him the news of Del Ferice's wife. + +"That will make matters worse," said Contini. + +"It will not improve them," answered Orsino indifferently. "Considering +the state of affairs I would like to see Del Ferice before speaking with +any of the others." + +"Those men are all involved with Prince Montevarchi," observed Contini, +watching the group of which the head clerk was the central figure. "You +can see by their faces what they think of the business. The short, grey +haired man is the steward--the big man is the architect. The others are +contractors. They say it is not less than thirty millions." + +Orsino said nothing. He was thinking of Maria Consuelo and wishing that +he could get away from Rome that night, while admitting that there was +no possibility of such a thing. Meanwhile the head clerk's gestures to +his interlocutors expressed more and more helplessness. At last they +went out in a body. + +"And now I am at your service, Signor Principe," said the grave man of +business coming up to Orsino and Contini. "The usual accommodation, I +suppose? We will just look over the bills and make out the new ones. It +will not take ten minutes. The usual cash, I suppose, Signor Principe? +Yes, to-day is Saturday and you have your men to pay. Quite as usual, +quite as usual. Will you come into my office?" + +Orsino looked at Contini, and Contini looked at Orsino, grasping the +back of a chair to steady himself. + +"Then there is no difficulty about discounting?" stammered Contini, +turning his face, now suddenly flushed, towards the clerk. + +"None whatever," answered the latter with an air of real or affected +surprise. "I have received the usual instructions to let Andrea Contini +and Company have all the money they need." + +He turned and led the way to his private office. Contini walked +unsteadily. Orsino showed no astonishment, but his black eyes grew a +little brighter than usual as he anticipated his next interview with San +Giacinto. He readily attributed his good fortune to the supposed +well-known prosperity of the firm, and he rose in his own estimation. He +quite forgot that Contini, who had now lost his head, had but yesterday +clearly foreseen the future when he had said that Del Ferice would not +let the two partners fail until they had fitted the last door and the +last window in the last of their houses. The conclusion had struck him +as just at the time. Contini was the first to recall it. + +"It will turn out, as I said," he began, when they were driving to their +office in a cab after leaving the bank. "He will let us live until we +are worth eating." + +"We will arrange matters on a firmer basis before that," answered Orsino +confidently. "Poor old Donna Tullia! Who would have thought that she +could die! I will stop and ask for news as we pass." + +He stopped the cab before the gilded gate of the detached house. +Glancing up, he saw that the shutters were closed. The porter came to +the bars but did not show any intention of opening. + +"The Signora Contessa is dead," he said solemnly, in answer to Orsino's +inquiry. + +"This morning?" + +"Two hours ago." + +Orsino's face grew grave as he left his card of condolence and turned +away. He could hardly have named a person more indifferent to him than +poor Donna Tullia, but he could not help feeling an odd regret at the +thought that she was gone at last with all her noisy vanity, her +restless meddlesomeness and her perpetual chatter. She had not been old +either, though he called her so, and there had seemed to be still a +superabundance of life in her. There had been yet many years of +rattling, useless, social life before her. To-morrow she would have +taken her last drive through Rome--out through the gate of Saint +Lawrence to the Campo Varano, there to wait many years perhaps for the +pale and half sickly Ugo, of whom every one had said for years that he +could not live through another twelve month with the disease of the +heart which threatened him. Of late, people had even begun to joke about +Donna Tullia's third husband. Poor Donna Tullia! + +Orsino went to his office with Contini and forced himself through the +usual round of work. Occasionally he was assailed by a mad desire to +leave Rome at once, but he opposed it and would not yield. Though his +affairs had gone well beyond his expectation the present crisis made it +impossible to abandon his business, unless he could get rid of it +altogether. And this he seriously contemplated. He knew however, or +thought he knew, that Contini would be ruined without him. His own name +was the one which gave the paper its value and decided Del Ferice to +continue the advances of money. The time was past when Contini would +gladly have accepted his partner's share of the undertaking, and would +even have tried to raise funds to purchase it. To retire now would be +possible only if he could provide for the final liquidation of the +whole, and this he could only do by applying to his father or mother, in +other words by acknowledging himself completely beaten in his struggle +for independence. + +The day ended at last and was succeeded by the idleness of Sunday. A +sort of listless indifference came over Orsino, the reaction, no doubt, +after all the excitement through which he had passed. It seemed to him +that Maria Consuelo had never loved him, and that it was better after +all that she should be gone. He longed for the old days, indeed, but as +she now appeared to him in his meditations he did not wish her back. He +had no desire to renew the uncertain struggle for a love which she +denied in the end; and this mood showed, no doubt, that his own passion +was less violent than he had himself believed. When a man loves with his +whole nature, undividedly, he is not apt to submit to separations +without making a strong effort to reunite himself, by force, persuasion +or stratagem, with the woman who is trying to escape from him. Orsino +was conscious of having at first felt the inclination to make such an +attempt even more strongly than he had shown it, but he was conscious +also that the interval of two days had been enough to reduce the wish to +follow Maria Consuelo in such a way that he could hardly understand +having ever entertained it. + +Unsatisfied passion wears itself out very soon. The higher part of love +may and often does survive in such cases, and the passionate impulses +may surge up after long quiescence as fierce and dangerous as ever. But +it is rarely indeed that two unsatisfied lovers who have parted by the +will of the one or of both can meet again without the consciousness that +the experimental separation has chilled feelings once familiar and +destroyed illusions once more than dear. In older times, perhaps, men +and women loved differently. There was more solitude in those days than +now, for what is called society was not invented, and people generally +were more inclined to sadness from living much alone. Melancholy is a +great strengthener of faithfulness in love. Moreover at that time the +modern fight for life had not begun, men as a rule had few interests +besides love and war, and women no interests at all beyond love. We +moderns should go mad if we were suddenly forced to lead the lives led +by knights and ladies in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. The +monotonous round of such an existence in time of peace would make idiots +of us, the horrors of that old warfare would make many of us maniacs. +But it is possible that youths and maidens would love more faithfully +and wait longer for each other than they will or can to-day. It is +questionable whether Bayard would have understood a single page of a +modern love story, Tancred would certainly not have done so; but Caesar +would have comprehended our lives and our interests without effort, and +Catullus could have described us as we are, for one great civilization +is very like another where the same races are concerned. + +In the days which followed Maria Consuelo's departure, Orsino came to a +state of indifference which surprised himself. He remembered that when +she had gone away in the spring he had scarcely missed her, and that he +had not thought his own coldness strange, since he was sure that he had +not loved her then. But that he had loved her now, during her last stay +in Rome, he was sure, and he would have despised himself if he had not +been able to believe that he loved her still. Yet, if he was not glad +that she had quitted him, he was at least strangely satisfied at being +left alone, and the old fancy for analysis made him try to understand +himself. The attempt was fruitless, of course, but it occupied his +thoughts. + +He met Spicca in the street, and avoided him. He imagined that the old +man must despise him for not having resisted and followed Maria Consuelo +after all. The hypothesis was absurd and the conclusion vain, but he +could not escape the idea, and it annoyed him. He was probably ashamed +of not having acted recklessly, as a man should who is dominated by a +master passion, and yet he was inwardly glad that he had not been +allowed to yield to the first impulse. + +The days succeeded each other and a week passed away, bringing Saturday +again and the necessity for a visit to the bank. Business had been in a +very bad state since it had been known that Montevarchi was ruined. So +far, he had not stopped payment and although the bank refused discount +he had managed to find money with which to meet his engagements. +Probably, as San Giacinto had foretold, he would pay everything and +remain a very poor man indeed. But, although many persons knew this, +confidence was not restored. Del Ferice declared that he believed +Montevarchi solvent, as he believed every one with whom his bank dealt +to be solvent to the uttermost centime, but that he could lend no more +money to any one on any condition whatsoever, because neither he nor the +bank had any to lend. Every one, he said, had behaved honestly, and he +proposed to eclipse the honesty of every one by the frank acknowledgment +of his own lack of cash. He was distressed, he said, overcome by the +sufferings of his friends and clients, ready to sell his house, his +jewelry and his very boots, in the Roman phrase, to accommodate every +one; but he was conscious that the demand far exceeded any supply which +he could furnish, no matter at what personal sacrifice, and as it was +therefore impossible to help everybody, it would be unjust to help a +few where all were equally deserving. + +In the meanwhile he proved the will of his deceased wife, leaving him +about four and a half millions of francs unconditionally, and half a +million more to be devoted to some public charity at Ugo's discretion, +for the repose of Donna Tullia's unquiet spirit. It is needless to say +that the sorrowing husband determined to spend the legacy magnificently +in the improvement of the town represented by him in parliament. A part +of the improvement would consist in a statue of Del Ferice +himself--representing him, perhaps, as he had escaped from Rome, in the +garb of a Capuchin friar, but with the addition of an army revolver to +show that he had fought for Italian unity, though when or where no man +could tell. But it is worth noting that while he protested his total +inability to discount any one's bills, Andrea Contini and Company +regularly renewed their acceptances when due and signed new ones for any +amount of cash they required. The accommodation was accompanied with a +request that it should not be mentioned. Orsino took the money +indifferently enough, conscious that he had three fortunes at his back +in case of trouble, but Contini grew more nervous as time went on and +the sums on paper increased in magnitude, while the chances of disposing +of the buildings seemed reduced to nothing in the stagnation which had +already set in. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + + +At this time Count Spicca received a letter from Maria Consuelo, written +from Nice and bearing a postmark more recent than the date which headed +the page, a fact which proved that the writer had either taken an +unusually long time in the composition or had withheld the missive +several days before finally despatching it. + +"My father--I write to inform you of certain things which have recently +taken place and which it is important that you should know, and of which +I should have the right to require an explanation if I chose to ask it. +Having been the author of my life, you have made yourself also the +author of all my unhappiness and of all my trouble. I have never +understood the cause of your intense hatred for me, but I have felt its +consequences, even at a great distance from you, and you know well +enough that I return it with all my heart. Moreover I have made up my +mind that I will not be made to suffer by you any longer. I tell you so +quite frankly. This is a declaration of war, and I will act upon it +immediately. + +"You are no doubt aware that Don Orsino Saracinesca has for a long time +been among my intimate friends. I will not discuss the question, whether +I did well to admit him to my intimacy or not. That, at least, does not +concern you. Even admitting your power to exercise the most complete +tyranny over me in other ways, I am and have always been free to choose +my own acquaintances, and I am able to defend myself better than most +women, and as well as any. I will be just, too. I do not mean to +reproach you with the consequences of what I do. But I will not spare +you where the results of your action towards me are concerned. + +"Don Orsino made love to me last spring. I loved him from the first. I +can hear your cruel laugh and see your contemptuous face as I write. But +the information is necessary, and I can bear your scorn because this is +the last opportunity for such diversion which I shall afford you, and +because I mean that you shall pay dearly for it. I loved Don Orsino, and +I love him still. You, of course, have never loved. You have hated, +however, and perhaps one passion may be the measure of another. It is in +my case, I can assure you, for the better I love, the better I learn to +hate you. + +"Last Thursday Don Orsino asked me to be his wife. I had known for some +time that he loved me and I knew that he would speak of it before long. +The day was sultry at first and then there was a thunderstorm. My nerves +were unstrung and I lost my head. I told him that I loved him. That does +not concern you. I told him, also, however, that I had given a solemn +promise to my dying husband, and I had still the strength to say that I +would not marry again. I meant to gain time, I longed to be alone, I +knew that I should yield, but I would not yield blindly. Thank God, I +was strong. I am like you in that, though happily not in any other way. +You ask me why I should even think of yielding. I answer that I love Don +Orsino better than I loved the man you murdered. There is nothing +humiliating in that, and I make the confession without reserve. I love +him better, and therefore, being human, I would have broken my promise +and married him, had marriage been possible. But it is not, as you know. +It is one thing to turn to the priest as he stands by a dying man and to +say, Pronounce us man and wife, and give us a blessing, for the sake of +this man's rest. The priest knew that we were both free, and took the +responsibility upon himself, knowing also that the act could have no +consequences in fact, whatever it might prove to be in theory. It is +quite another matter to be legally married to Don Orsino Saracinesca, in +the face of a strong opposition. But I went home that evening, believing +that it could be done and that the opposition would vanish. I believed +because I loved. I love still, but what I learned that night has killed +my belief in an impossible happiness. + +"I need not tell you all that passed between me and Lucrezia Ferris. How +she knew of what had happened I cannot tell. She must have followed us +to the apartment I was furnishing, and she must have overheard what we +said, or seen enough to convince her. She is a spy. I suppose that is +the reason why she is imposed upon me, and always has been, since I can +remember--since I was born, she says. I found her waiting to dress me as +usual, and as usual I did not speak to her. She spoke first. 'You will +not marry Don Orsino Saracinesca,' she said, facing me with her bad +eyes. I could have struck her, but I would not. I asked her what she +meant. She told me that she knew what I was doing, and asked me whether +I was aware that I needed documents in order to be married to a beggar +in Rome, and whether I supposed that the Saracinesca would be inclined +to overlook the absence of such papers, or could pass a law of their own +abolishing the necessity for them, or, finally, whether they would +accept such certificates of my origin as she could produce. She showed +me a package. She had nothing better to offer me, she said, but such as +she had, she heartily placed at my disposal. I took the papers. I was +prepared for a shock, but not for the blow I received. + +"You know what I read. The certificate of my birth as the daughter of +Lucrezia Ferris, unmarried, by Count Spicca who acknowledged the child +as his--and the certificate of your marriage with Lucrezia Ferris, +dated--strangely enough a fortnight after my birth--and further a +document legitimizing me as the lawful daughter of you two. All these +documents are from Monte Carlo. You will understand why I am in Nice. +Yes--they are all genuine, every one of them, as I have had no +difficulty in ascertaining. So I am the daughter of Lucrezia Ferris, +born out of wedlock and subsequently whitewashed into a sort of +legitimacy. And Lucrezia Ferris is lawfully the Countess Spicca. +Lucrezia Ferris, the cowardly spy-woman who more than half controls my +life, the lying, thieving servant--she robs me at every turn--the +common, half educated Italian creature,--she is my mother, she is that +radiant being of whom you sometimes speak with tears in your eyes, she +is that angel of whom I remind you, she is that sweet influence that +softened and brightened your lonely life for a brief space some three +and twenty years ago! She has changed since then. + +"And this is the mystery of my birth which you have concealed from me, +and which it was at any moment in the power of my vile mother to reveal. +You cannot deny the fact, I suppose, especially since I have taken the +trouble to search the registers and verify each separate document. + +"I gave them all back to her, for I shall never need them. The woman--I +mean my mother--was quite right. I shall not marry Don Orsino +Saracinesca. You have lied to me throughout my life. You have always +told me that my mother was dead, and that I need not be ashamed of my +birth, though you wished it kept a secret. So far, I have obeyed you. In +that respect, and only in that, I will continue to act according to your +wishes. I am not called upon to proclaim to the world and my +acquaintance that I am the daughter of my own servant, and that you were +kind enough to marry your estimable mistress after my birth in order to +confer upon me what you dignify by the name of legitimacy. No. That is +not necessary. If it could hurt you to proclaim it I would do so in the +most public way I could find. But it is folly to suppose that you could +be made to suffer by so simple a process. + +"Are you aware, my father, that you have ruined all my life from the +first? Being so bad, you must be intelligent and you must realise what +you have done, even if you have done it out of pure love of evil. You +pretended to be kind to me, until I was old enough to feel all the pain +you had in store for me. But even then, after you had taken the trouble +to marry my mother, why did you give me another name? Was that +necessary? I suppose it was. I did not understand then why my older +companions looked askance at me in the convent, nor why the nuns +sometimes whispered together and looked at me. They knew perhaps that no +such name as mine existed. Since I was your daughter why did I not bear +your name when I was a little girl? You were ashamed to let it be known +that you were married, seeing what sort of wife you had taken, and you +found yourself in a dilemma. If you had acknowledged me as your daughter +in Austria, your friends in Rome would soon have found out my +existence--and the existence of your wife. You were very cautious in +those days, but you seem to have grown careless of late, or you would +not have left those papers in the care of the Countess Spicca, my +maid--and my mother. I have heard that very bad men soon reach their +second childhood and act foolishly. It is quite true. + +"Then, later, when you saw that I loved, and was loved, and was to be +happy, you came between my love and me. You appeared in your own +character as a liar, a slanderer and a traitor. I loved a man who was +brave, honourable, faithful--reckless, perhaps, and wild as such men +are--but devoted and true. You came between us. You told me that he was +false, cowardly, an adventurer of the worst kind. Because I would not +believe you, and would have married him in spite of you, you killed him. +Was it cowardly of him to face the first swordsman in Europe? They told +me that he was not afraid of you, the men who saw it, and that he fought +you like a lion, as he was. And the provocation, too! He never struck +me. He was showing me what he meant by a term in fencing--the silver +knife he held grazed my cheek because I was startled and moved. But you +meant to kill him, and you chose to say that he had struck me. Did you +ever hear a harsh word from his lips during those months of waiting? +When you had done your work you fled--like the murderer you were and +are. But I escaped from the woman who says she is my mother--and is--and +I went to him and found him living and married him. You used to tell me +that he was an adventurer and little better than a beggar. Yet he left +me a large fortune. It is as well that he provided for me, since you +have succeeded in losing most of your own money at play--doubtless to +insure my not profiting by it at your death. Not that you will die--men +of your kind outlive their victims, because they kill them. + +"And now, when you saw--for you did see it--when you saw and knew that +Orsino Saracinesca and I loved each other, you have broken my life a +second time. You might so easily have gone to him, or have come to me, +at the first, with the truth. You know that I should never forgive you +for what you had done already. A little more could have made matters no +worse then. You knew that Don Orsino would have thanked you as a friend +for the warning. Instead--I refuse to believe you in your dotage after +all--you make that woman spy upon me until the great moment is come, you +give her the weapons and you bid her strike when the blow will be most +excruciating. You are not a man. You are Satan. I parted twice from the +man I love. He would not let me go, and he came back and tried to keep +me--I do not know how I escaped. God helped me. He is so brave and noble +that if he had held those accursed papers in his hands and known all the +truth he would not have given me up. He would have brought a stain on +his great name, and shame upon his great house for my sake. He is not +like you. I parted from him twice, I know all that I can suffer, and I +hate you for each individual suffering, great and small. + +"I have dismissed my mother from my service. How that would sound in +Rome! I have given her as much money as she can expect and I have got +rid of her. She said that she would not go, that she would write to you, +and many other things. I told her that if she attempted to stay I would +go to the authorities, prove that she was my mother, provide for her, if +the law required it and have her forcibly turned out of my house by the +aid of the same law. I am of age, married, independent, and I cannot be +obliged to entertain my mother either in the character of a servant, or +as a visitor. I suppose she has a right to a lodging under your roof. I +hope she will take advantage of it, as I advised her. She took the money +and went away, cursing me. I think that if she had ever, in all my life, +shown the smallest affection for me--even at the last, when she declared +herself my mother, if she had shown a spark of motherly feeling, of +tenderness, of anything human, I could have accepted her and tolerated +her, half peasant woman as she is, spy as she has been, and cheat and +thief. But she stood before me with the most perfect indifference, +watching my surprise with those bad eyes of hers. I wonder why I have +borne her presence so long. I suppose it had never struck me that I +could get rid of her, in spite of you, if I chose. By the bye, I sent +for a notary when I paid her, and I got a legal receipt signed with her +legal name, Lucrezia Spicca, _ta Ferris_. The document formally +releases me from all further claims. I hope you will understand that you +have no power whatsoever to impose her upon me again, though I confess +that I am expecting your next move with interest. I suppose that you +have not done with me yet, and have some new means of torment in +reserve. Satan is rarely idle long. + +"And now I have done. If you were not the villain you are, I should +expect you to go to the man whose happiness I have endangered, if not +destroyed. I should expect you to tell Don Orsino Saracinesca enough of +the truth to make him understand my action. But I know you far too well +to imagine that you would willingly take from my life one thorn of the +many you have planted in it. I will write to Don Orsino myself. I think +you need not fear him--I am sorry that you need not. But I shall not +tell him more than is necessary. You will remember, I hope, that such +discretion as I may show, is not shown out of consideration for you, but +out of forethought for my own welfare. I have unfortunately no means of +preventing you from writing to me, but you may be sure that your letters +will never be read, so that you will do as well to spare yourself the +trouble of composing them. + +"MARIA CONSUELO D'ARANJUEZ." + +Spicca received this letter early in the morning, and at mid-day he +still sat in his chair, holding it in his hand. His face was very white, +his head hung forward upon his breast, his thin fingers were stiffened +upon the thin paper. Only the hardly perceptible rise and fall of the +chest showed that he still breathed. + +The clocks had already struck twelve when his old servant entered the +room, a being thin, wizened, grey and noiseless as the ghost of a +greyhound. He stood still a moment before his master, expecting that he +would look up, then bent anxiously over him and felt his hands. + +Spicca slowly raised his sunken eyes. + +"It will pass, Santi--it will pass," he said feebly. + +Then he began to fold up the sheets slowly and with difficulty, but very +neatly, as men of extraordinary skill with their hands do everything. +Santi looked at him doubtfully and then got a glass and a bottle of +cordial from a small carved press in the corner. Spicca drank the +liqueur slowly and set the glass steadily upon the table. + +"Bad news, Signor Conte?" asked the servant anxiously, and in a way +which betrayed at once the kindly relations existing between the two. + +"Very bad news," Spicca answered sadly and shaking his head. + +Santi sighed, restored the cordial to the press and took up the glass, +as though he were about to leave the room. But he still lingered near +the table, glancing uneasily at his master as though he had something to +say, but was hesitating to begin. + +"What is it, Santi?" asked the count. + +"I beg your pardon, Signor Conte--you have had bad news--if you will +allow me to speak, there are several small economies which could still +be managed without too much inconveniencing you. Pardon the liberty, +Signor Conte." + +"I know, I know. But it is not money this time. I wish it were." + +Santi's expression immediately lost much of its anxiety. He had shared +his master's fallen fortunes and knew better than he what he meant by a +few more small economies, as he called them. + +"God be praised, Signor Conte," he said solemnly. "May I serve the +breakfast?" + +"I have no appetite, Santi. Go and eat yourself." + +"A little something?" Santi spoke in a coaxing way. "I have prepared a +little mixed fry, with toast, as you like it, Signor Conte, and the +salad is good to-day--ham and figs are also in the house. Let me lay the +cloth--when you see, you will eat--and just one egg beaten up with a +glass of red wine to begin--that will dispose the stomach." + +Spicca shook his head again, but Santi paid no attention to the refusal +and went about preparing the meal. When it was ready the old man +suffered himself to be persuaded and ate a little. He was in reality +stronger than he looked, and an extraordinary nervous energy still +lurked beneath the appearance of a feebleness almost amounting to +decrepitude. The little nourishment he took sufficed to restore the +balance, and when he rose from the table, he was outwardly almost +himself again. When a man has suffered great moral pain for years, he +bears a new shock, even the worst, better than one who is hard hit in +the midst of a placid and long habitual happiness. The soul can be +taught to bear trouble as the great self mortifiers of an earlier time +taught their bodies to bear scourging. The process is painful but +hardening. + +"I feel better, Santi," said Spicca. "Your breakfast has done me good. +You are an excellent doctor." + +He turned away and took out his pocket-book--not over well garnished. He +found a ten franc note. Then he looked round and spoke in a gentle, +kindly tone. + +"Santi--this trouble has nothing to do with money. You need a new pair +of shoes, I am sure. Do you think that ten francs is enough?" + +Santi bowed respectfully and took the money. + +"A thousand thanks, Signor Conte," he said. + +Santi was a strange man, from the heart of the Abruzzi. He pocketed the +note, but that night, when he had undressed his master and was arranging +the things on the dressing table, the ten francs found their way back +into the black pocket-book. Spicca never counted, and never knew. + +He did not write to Maria Consuelo, for he was well aware that in her +present state of mind she would undoubtedly burn his letter unopened, as +she had said she would. Late in the day he went out, walked for an hour, +entered the club and read the papers, and at last betook himself to the +restaurant where Orsino dined when his people were out of town. + +In due time, Orsino appeared, looking pale and ill tempered. He caught +sight of Spicca and went at once to the table where he sat. + +"I have had a letter," said the young man. "I must speak to you. If you +do not object, we will dine together." + +"By all means. There is nothing like a thoroughly bad dinner to promote +ill-feeling." + +Orsino glanced at the old man in momentary surprise. But he knew his +ways tolerably well, and was familiar with the chronic acidity of his +speech. + +"You probably guess who has written to me," Orsino resumed. "It was +natural, perhaps, that she should have something to say, but what she +actually says, is more than I was prepared to hear." + +Spicca's eyes grew less dull and he turned an inquiring glance on his +companion. + +"When I tell you that in this letter, Madame d'Aranjuez has confided to +me the true story of her origin, I have probably said enough," continued +the young man. + +"You have said too much or too little," Spicca answered in an almost +indifferent tone. + +"How so?" + +"Unless you tell me just what she has told you, or show me the letter, I +cannot possibly judge of the truth of the tale." + +Orsino raised his head angrily. + +"Do you mean me to doubt that Madame d'Aranjuez speaks the truth?" he +asked. + +"Calm yourself. Whatever Madame d'Aranjuez has written to you, she +believes to be true. But she may have been herself deceived." + +"In spite of documents--public registers--" + +"Ah! Then she has told you about those certificates?" + +"That--and a great deal more which concerns you." + +"Precisely. A great deal more. I know all about the registers, as you +may easily suppose, seeing that they concern two somewhat important acts +in my own life and that I was very careful to have those acts properly +recorded, beyond the possibility of denial--beyond the possibility of +denial," he repeated very slowly and emphatically. "Do you understand +that?" + +"It would not enter the mind of a sane person to doubt such evidence," +answered Orsino rather scornfully. + +"No, I suppose not. As you do not therefore come to me for confirmation +of what is already undeniable, I cannot understand why you come to me at +all in this matter, unless you do so on account of other things which +Madame d'Aranjuez has written you, and of which you have so far kept me +in ignorance." + +Spicca spoke with a formal manner and in cold tones, drawing up his bent +figure a little. A waiter came to the table and both men ordered their +dinner. The interruption rather favoured the development of a hostile +feeling between them, than otherwise. + +"I will explain my reasons for coming to find you here," said Orsino +when they were again alone. + +"So far as I am concerned, no explanation is necessary. I am content not +to understand. Moreover, this is a public place, in which we have +accidentally met and dined together before." + +"I did not come here by accident," answered Orsino. "And I did not come +in order to give explanations but to ask for one." + +"Ah?" Spicca eyed him coolly. + +"Yes. I wish to know why you have hated your daughter all her life, why +you persecute her in every way, why you--" + +"Will you kindly stop?" + +The old man's voice grew suddenly clear and incisive, and Orsino broke +off in the middle of his sentence. A moment's pause followed. + +"I requested you to stop speaking," Spicca resumed, "because you were +unconsciously making statements which have no foundation whatever in +fact. Observe that I say, unconsciously. You are completely mistaken. I +do not hate Madame d'Aranjuez. I love her with all my heart and soul. I +do not persecute her in every way, nor in any way. On the contrary, her +happiness is the only object of such life as I still have to live, and I +have little but that life left to give her. I am in earnest, Orsino." + +"I see you are. That makes what you say all the more surprising." + +"No doubt it does. Madame d'Aranjuez has just written to you, and you +have her letter in your pocket. She has told you in that letter a number +of facts in her own life, as she sees them, and you look at them as she +does. It is natural. To her and to you, I appear to be a monster of +evil, a hideous incarnation of cruelty, a devil in short. Did she call +me a devil in her letter?" + +"She did." + +"Precisely. She has also written to me, informing me that I am Satan. +There is a directness in the statement and a general disregard of +probability which is not without charm. Nevertheless, I am Spicca, and +not Beelzebub, her assurances to the contrary notwithstanding. You see +how views may differ. You know much of her life, but you know nothing of +mine, nor is it my intention to tell you anything about myself. But I +will tell you this much. If I could do anything to mend matters, I +would. If I could make it possible for you to marry Madame +d'Aranjuez--being what you are, and fenced in as you are, I would. If I +could tell you all the rest of the truth, which she does not know, nor +dream of, I would. I am bound by a very solemn promise of secrecy--by +something more than a promise in fact. Yet, if I could do good to her by +breaking oaths, betraying confidence and trampling on the deepest +obligations which can bind a man, I would. But that good cannot be done +any more. That is all I can tell you." + +"It is little enough. You could, and you can, tell the whole truth, as +you call it, to Madame d'Aranjuez. I would advise you to do so, instead +of embittering her life at every turn." + +"I have not asked for your advice, Orsino. That she is unhappy, I know. +That she hates me, is clear. She would not be the happier for hating me +less, since nothing else would be changed. She need not think of me, if +the subject is disagreeable. In all other respects she is perfectly +free. She is young, rich, and at liberty to go where she pleases and to +do what she likes. So long as I am alive, I shall watch over her--" + +"And destroy every chance of happiness which presents itself," +interrupted Orsino. + +"I gave you some idea, the other night, of the happiness she might have +enjoyed with the deceased Aranjuez. If I made a mistake in regard to +what I saw him do--I admit the possibility of an error--I was +nevertheless quite right in ridding her of the man. I have atoned for +the mistake, if we call it so, in a way of which you do not dream, nor +she either. The good remains, for Aranjuez is buried." + +"You speak of secret atonement--I was not aware that you ever suffered +from remorse." + +"Nor I," answered Spicca drily. + +"Then what do you mean?" + +"You are questioning me, and I have warned you that I will tell you +nothing about myself. You will confer a great favour upon me by not +insisting." + +"Are you threatening me again?" + +"I am not doing anything of the kind. I never threaten any one. I could +kill you as easily as I killed Aranjuez, old and decrepit as I look, and +I should be perfectly indifferent to the opprobrium of killing so young +a man--though I think that, looking at us two, many people might suppose +the advantage to be on your side rather than on mine. But young men +nowadays do not learn to handle arms. Short of laying violent hands upon +me, you will find it quite impossible to provoke me. I am almost old +enough to be your grandfather, and I understand you very well. You love +Madame d'Aranjuez. She knows that to marry you would be to bring about +such a quarrel with your family as might ruin half your life, and she +has the rare courage to tell you so and to refuse your offer. You think +that I can do something to help you and you are incensed because I am +powerless, and furious because I object to your leaving Rome in the same +train with her, against her will. You are more furious still to-day +because you have adopted her belief that I am a monster of iniquity. +Observe--that, apart from hindering you from a great piece of folly the +other day, I have never interfered. I do not interfere now. As I said +then, follow her if you please, persuade her to marry you if you can, +quarrel with all your family if you like. It is nothing to me. Publish +the banns of your marriage on the doors of the Capitol and declare to +the whole world that Madame d'Aranjuez, the future Princess Saracinesca, +is the daughter of Count Spicca and Lucrezia Ferris, his lawful wife. +There will be a little talk, but it will not hurt me. People have kept +their marriages a secret for a whole lifetime before now. I do not care +what you do, nor what the whole tribe of the Saracinesca may do, +provided that none of you do harm to Maria Consuelo, nor bring useless +suffering upon her. If any of you do that, I will kill you. That at +least is a threat, if you like. Good-night." + +Thereupon Spicca rose suddenly from his seat, leaving his dinner +unfinished, and went out. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + + +Orsino did not leave Rome after all. He was not in reality prevented +from doing so by the necessity of attending to his business, for he +might assuredly have absented himself for a week or two at almost any +time before the new year, without incurring any especial danger. From +time to time, at ever increasing intervals, he felt strongly impelled to +rejoin Maria Consuelo in Paris where she had ultimately determined to +spend the autumn and winter, but the impulse always lacked just the +measure of strength which would have made it a resolution. When he +thought of his many hesitations he did not understand himself and he +fell in his own estimation, so that he became by degrees more silent and +melancholy of disposition than had originally been natural with him. + +He had much time for reflection and he constantly brooded over the +situation in which he found himself. The question seemed to be, whether +he loved Maria Consuelo or not, since he was able to display such +apparent indifference to her absence. In reality he also doubted whether +he was loved by her, and the one uncertainty was fully as great as the +other. + +He went over all that had passed. The position had never been an easy +one, and the letter which Maria Consuelo had written to him after her +departure had not made it easier. It had contained the revelations +concerning her birth, together with many references to Spicca's +continued cruelty, plentifully supported by statements of facts. She had +then distinctly told Orsino that she would never marry him, under any +circumstances whatever, declaring that if he followed her she would not +even see him. She would not ruin his life and plunge him into a life +long quarrel with his family, she said, and she added that she would +certainly not expose herself to such treatment as she would undoubtedly +receive at the hands of the Saracinesca if she married Orsino without +his parents' consent. + +A man does not easily believe that he is deprived of what he most +desires exclusively for his own good and welfare, and the last sentence +quoted wounded Orsino deeply. He believed himself ready to incur the +displeasure of all his people for Maria Consuelo's sake, and he said in +his heart that if she loved him she should be ready to bear as much as +he. The language in which she expressed herself, too, was cold and +almost incisive. + +Unlike Spicca Orsino answered this letter, writing in an argumentative +strain, bringing the best reasons he could find to bear against those +she alleged, and at last reproaching her with not being willing to +suffer for his sake a tenth part of what he would endure for her. But he +announced his intention of joining her before long, and expressed the +certainty that she would receive him. + +To this Maria Consuelo made no reply for some time. When she wrote at +last, it was to say that she had carefully considered her decision and +saw no good cause for changing it. To Orsino her tone seemed colder and +more distant than ever. The fact that the pages were blotted here and +there and that the handwriting was unsteady, was probably to be referred +to her carelessness. He brooded over his misfortune, thought more than +once of making a desperate effort to win back her love, and remained in +Rome. After a long interval he wrote to her again. This time he produced +an epistle which, under the circumstances, might have seemed almost +ridiculous. It was full of indifferent gossip about society, it +contained a few sarcastic remarks about his own approaching failure, +with some rather youthfully cynical observations on the instability of +things in general and the hollowness of all aspirations whatsoever. + +He received no answer, and duly repented the flippant tone he had taken. +He would have been greatly surprised could he have learned that this +last letter was destined to produce a greater effect upon his life than +all he had written before it. + +In the meanwhile his father, who had heard of the increasing troubles in +the world of business, wrote him in a constant strain of warning, to +which he paid little attention. His mother's letters, too, betrayed her +anxiety, but expressed what his father's did not, to wit the most +boundless confidence in his power to extricate himself honourably from +all difficulties, together with the assurance that if worst came to +worst she was always ready to help him. + +Suddenly and without warning old Saracinesca returned from his +wanderings. He had taken the trouble to keep the family informed of his +movements by his secretary during two or three months and had then +temporarily allowed them to lose sight of him, thereby causing them +considerable anxiety, though an occasional paragraph in a newspaper +reassured them from time to time. Then, on a certain afternoon in +November, he appeared, alone and in a cab, as though he had been out for +a stroll. + +"Well, my boy, are you ruined yet?" he inquired, entering Orsino's room +without ceremony. + +The young man started from his seat and took the old gentleman's rough +hand, with an exclamation of surprise. + +"Yes--you may well look at me," laughed the Prince. "I have grown ten +years younger. And you?" He pushed his grandson into the light and +scrutinised his face fiercely. "And you are ten years older," he +concluded, in a discontented tone. + +"I did not know it," answered Orsino with an attempt at a laugh. + +"You have been at some mischief. I know it. I can see it." + +He dropped the young fellow's arm, shook his head and began to move +about the room. Then he came back all at once and looked up into +Orsino's face from beneath his bushy eyebrows. + +"Out with it, I mean to know!" he said, roughly but not unkindly. "Have +you lost money? Are you ill? Are you in love?" + +Orsino would certainly have resented the first and the last questions, +if not all three, had they been put to him by his father. There was +something in the old Prince's nature, something warmer and more human, +which appealed to his own. Sant' Ilario was, and always had been, +outwardly cold, somewhat measured in his speech, undemonstrative, a man +not easily moved to much expression or to real sympathy except by love, +but capable, under that influence, of going to great lengths. And +Orsino, though in some respects resembling his mother rather than his +father, was not unlike the latter, with a larger measure of ambition +and less real pride. It was probably the latter characteristic which +made him feel the need of sympathy in a way his father had never felt it +and could never understand it, and he was thereby drawn more closely to +his mother and to his grandfather than to Sant' Ilario. + +Old Saracinesca evidently meant to be answered, as he stood there gazing +into Orsino's eyes. + +"A great deal has happened since you went away," said Orsino, half +wishing that he could tell everything. "In the first place, business is +in a very bad state, and I am anxious." + +"Dirty work, business," grumbled Saracinesca. "I always told you so. +Then you have lost money, you young idiot! I thought so. Did you think +you were any better than Montevarchi? I hope you have kept your name out +of the market, at all events. What in the name of heaven made you put +your hand to such filth! Come--how much do you want? We will whitewash +you and you shall start to-morrow and go round the world." + +"But I am not in actual need of money at all--" + +"Then what the devil are you in need of?" + +"An improvement in business, and the assurance that I shall not +ultimately be bankrupt." + +"If money is not an assurance that you will not be bankrupt, I would +like to learn what is. All this is nonsense. Tell me the truth, my +boy--you are in love. That is the trouble." + +Orsino shrugged his shoulders. + +"I have been in love some time," he answered. + +"Young? Old? Marriageable? Married? Out with it, I say!" + +"I would rather talk about business. I think it is all over now." + +"Just like your father--always full of secrets! As if I did not know all +about it. You are in love with that Madame d'Aranjuez." + +Orsino turned a little pale. + +"Please do not call her 'that' Madame d'Aranjuez," he said, gravely. + +"Eh? What? Are you so sensitive about her?" + +"Yes." + +"You are? Very well--I like that. What about her?" + +"What a question!" + +"I mean--is she indifferent, cold, in love with some one else?" + +"Not that I am aware. She has refused to marry me and has left Rome, +that is all." + +"Refused to marry you!" cried old Saracinesca in boundless astonishment. +"My dear boy, you must be out of your mind! The thing is impossible. You +are the best match in Rome. Madame d'Aranjuez refuse you--absolutely +incredible, not to be believed for a moment. You are dreaming. A +widow--without much fortune--the relict of some curious adventurer--a +woman looking for a fortune, a woman--" + +"Stop!" cried Orsino, savagely. + +"Oh yes--I forgot. You are sensitive. Well, well, I meant nothing +against her, except that she must be insane if what you tell me is true. +But I am glad of it, my boy, very glad. She is no match for you, Orsino. +I confess, I wish you would marry at once. I would like to see my great +grandchildren--but not Madame d'Aranjuez. A widow, too." + +"My father married a widow." + +"When you find a widow like your mother, and ten years younger than +yourself, marry her if you can. But not Madame d'Aranjuez--older than +you by several years." + +"A few years." + +"Is that all? It is too much, though. And who is Madame d'Aranjuez? +Everybody was asking the question last winter. I suppose she had a name +before she married, and since you have been trying to make her your +wife, you must know all about her. Who was she?" + +Orsino hesitated. + +"You see!" cried, the old Prince. "It is not all right. There is a +secret--there is something wrong about her family, or about her entrance +into the world. She knows perfectly well that we would never receive her +and has concealed it all from you--" + +"She has not concealed it. She has told me the exact truth. But I shall +not repeat it to you." + +"All the stronger proof that everything is not right. You are well out +of it, my boy, exceedingly well out of it. I congratulate you." + +"I would rather not be congratulated." + +"As you please. I am sorry for you, if you are unhappy. Try and forget +all about it. How is your mother?" + +At any other time Orsino would have laughed at the characteristic +abruptness. + +"Perfectly well, I believe. I have not seen her all summer," he answered +gravely. + +"Not been to Saracinesca all summer! No wonder you look ill. Telegraph +to them that I have come back and let us get the family together as soon +as possible. Do you think I mean to spend six months alone in your +company, especially when you are away all day at that wretched office of +yours? Be quick about it--telegraph at once." + +"Very well. But please do not repeat anything of what I have told you to +my father or my mother. That is the only thing I have to ask." + +"Am I a parrot? I never talk to them of your affairs." + +"Thanks. I am grateful." + +"To heaven because your grandfather is not a parakeet! No doubt. You +have good cause. And look here, Orsino--" + +The old man took Orsino's arm and held it firmly, speaking in a lower +tone. + +"Do not make an ass of yourself, my boy--especially in business. But if +you do--and you probably will, you know--just come to me, without +speaking to any one else. I will see what can be done without noise. +There--take that, and forget all about your troubles and get a little +more colour into your face." + +"You are too good to me," said Orsino, grasping the old Prince's hand. +For once, he was really moved. + +"Nonsense--go and send that telegram at once. I do not want to be kept +waiting a week for a sight of my family." + +With a deep, good humoured laugh he pushed Orsino out of the door in +front of him and went off to his own quarters. + +In due time the family returned from Saracinesca and the gloomy old +palace waked to life again. Corona and her husband were both struck by +the change in Orsino's appearance, which indeed contrasted strongly with +their own, refreshed and strengthened as they were by the keen mountain +air, the endless out-of-door life, the manifold occupations of people +deeply interested in the welfare of those around them and supremely +conscious of their own power to produce good results in their own way. +When they all came back, Orsino himself felt how jaded and worn he was +as compared with them. + +Before twelve hours had gone by, he found himself alone with his mother. +Strange to say he had not looked forward to the interview with pleasure. +The bond of sympathy which had so closely united the two during the +spring seemed weakened, and Orsino would, if possible, have put off the +renewal of intimate converse which he knew to be inevitable. But that +could not be done. + +It would not be hard to find reasons for his wishing to avoid his +mother. Formerly his daily tale had been one of success, of hope, of +ever increasing confidence. Now he had nothing to tell of but danger and +anxiety for the future, and he was not without a suspicion that she +would strongly disapprove of his allowing himself to be kept afloat by +Del Ferice's personal influence, and perhaps by his personal aid. It was +hard to begin daily intercourse on a basis of things so different from +that which had seemed solid and safe when they had last talked together. +He had learned to bear his own troubles bravely, too, and there was +something which he associated with weakness in the idea of asking +sympathy for them now. He would rather have been left alone. + +Deep down, too, was the consciousness of all that had happened between +himself and Maria Consuelo since his mother's departure. Another +suffering, another and distinctly different misfortune, to be borne +better in silence than under question even of the most affectionate +kind. His grandfather had indeed guessed at both truths and had taxed +him with them at once, but that was quite another matter. He knew that +the old gentleman would never refer again to what he had learned, and he +appreciated the generous offer of help, of which he would never avail +himself, in a way in which he could not appreciate an assistance even +more lovingly proffered, perhaps, but which must be asked for by a +confession of his own failure. + +On the other hand, he was incapable of distorting the facts in any way +so as to make his mother believe him more successful than he actually +was. There was nothing dishonest, perhaps, in pretending to be hopeful +when he really had little hope, but he could not have represented the +condition of the business otherwise than as it really stood. + +The interview was a long one, and Corona's dark face grew grave if not +despondent as he explained to her one point after another, taking +especial care to elucidate all that bore upon his relations with Del +Ferice. It was most important that his mother should understand how he +was placed, and how Del Ferice's continued advances of money were not to +be regarded in the light of a personal favour, but as a speculation in +which Ugo would probably get the best of the bargain. Orsino knew how +sensitive his mother would be on such a point, and dreaded the moment +when she should begin to think that he was laying himself under +obligations beyond the strict limits of business. + +Corona leaned back in her low seat and covered her eyes with one hand +for a moment, in deep thought. Orsino waited anxiously for her to speak. + +"My dear," she said at last, "you make it very clear, and I understand +you perfectly. Nevertheless, it seems to me that your position is not +very dignified, considering who you are, and what Del Ferice is. Do you +not think so yourself?" + +Orsino flushed a little. She had not put the point as he had expected, +and her words told upon him. + +"When I entered business, I put my dignity in my pocket," he answered, +with a forced laugh. "There cannot be much of it in business, at the +best." + +His mother's black eyes seemed to grow blacker, and the delicate nostril +quivered a little. + +"If that is true, I wish you had never meddled in these affairs," she +said, proudly. "But you talked differently last spring, and you made me +see it all in another way. You made me feel, on the contrary that in +doing something for yourself, in showing that you were able to +accomplish something, in asserting your independence, you were making +yourself more worthy of respect--and I have respected you accordingly." + +"Exactly," answered Orsino, catching at the old argument. "That is just +what I wished to do. What I said a moment since was in the way of a +generality. Business means a struggle for money, I suppose, and that, in +itself, is not dignified. But it is not dishonourable. After all, the +means may justify the end." + +"I hate that saying!" exclaimed Corona hotly. "I wish you were free of +the whole affair." + +"So do I, with all my heart!" + +A short silence followed. + +"If I had known all this three months ago," Corona resumed, "I would +have taken the money and given it to you, to clear yourself. I thought +you were succeeding and I have used all the funds I could gather to buy +the Montevarchi's property between us and Affile and in planting +eucalyptus trees in that low land of mine where the people have suffered +so much from fever. I have nothing at my disposal unless I borrow. Why +did you not tell me the truth in the summer, Orsino? Why have you let me +imagine that you were prospering all along, when you have been and are +at the point of failure? It is too bad--" + +She broke off suddenly and clasped her hands together on her knee. + +"It is only lately that business has gone so badly," said Orsino. + +"It was all wrong from the beginning! I should never have encouraged +you. Your father was right, as he always is--and now you must tell him +so." + +But Orsino refused to go to his father, except in the last extremity. He +represented that it was better, and more dignified, since Corona +insisted upon the point of dignity, to fight the battle alone so long as +there was a chance of winning. His mother, on the other hand, maintained +that he should free himself at once and at any cost. A few months +earlier he could easily have persuaded her that he was right; but she +seemed changed since he had parted from her, and he fancied that his +father's influence had been at work with her. This he resented bitterly. +It must be remembered, too, that he had begun the interview with a +preconceived prejudice, expecting it to turn out badly, so that he was +the more ready to allow matters to take an unfavourable turn. + +The result was not a decided break in his relations with his mother, but +a state of things more irritating than any open difference could have +been. From that time Corona discouraged him, and never ceased to advise +him to go to his father and ask frankly for enough money to clear him +outright. Orsino, on his part, obstinately refused to apply to any one +for help, as long as Del Ferice continued to advance him money. + +In those months which followed there were few indeed who did not suffer +in the almost universal financial cataclysm. All that Contini and +others, older and wiser than he, had predicted, took place, and more +also. The banks refused discount, even upon the best paper, saying with +justice that they were obliged to hold their funds in reserve at such a +time. The works stopped almost everywhere. It was impossible to raise +money. Thousands upon thousands of workmen who had come from great +distances during the past two or three years were suddenly thrown out of +work, penniless in the streets and many of them burdened with wives and +children. There were one or two small riots and there was much +demonstration, but, on the whole, the poor masons behaved very well. The +government and the municipality did what they could--what governments +and municipalities can do when hampered at every turn by the most +complicated and ill-considered machinery of administration ever invented +in any country. The starving workmen were by slow degrees got out of the +city and sent back to starve out of sight in their native places. The +emigration was enormous in all directions. + +The dismal ruins of that new city which was to have been built and which +never reached completion are visible everywhere. Houses seven stories +high, abandoned within a month of completion rise uninhabited and +uninhabitable out of a rank growth of weeds, amidst heaps of rubbish, +staring down at the broad, desolate streets where the vigorous grass +pushes its way up through the loose stones of the unrolled metalling. +Amidst heavy low walls which were to have been the ground stories of +palaces, a few ragged children play in the sun, a lean donkey crops the +thistles, or if near to a few occupied dwellings, a wine seller makes a +booth of straw and chestnut boughs and dispenses a poisonous, sour drink +to those who will buy. But that is only in the warm months. The winter +winds blow the wretched booth to pieces and increase the desolation. +Further on, tall facades rise suddenly up, the blue sky gleaming +through their windows, the green moss already growing upon their naked +stones and bricks. The Barbarini of the future, if any should arise, +will not need to despoil the Colosseum to quarry material for their +palaces. If, as the old pasquinade had it the Barbarini did what the +Barbarians did not, how much worse than barbarians have these modern +civilizers done! + +The distress was very great in the early months of 1889. The +satisfaction which many of the new men would have felt at the ruin of +great old families was effectually neutralized by their own financial +destruction. Princes, bankers, contractors and master masons went down +together in the general bankruptcy. Ugo Del Ferice survived and with him +Andrea Contini and Company, and doubtless other small firms which he +protected for his own ends. San Giacinto, calm, far-seeing, and keen as +an eagle, surveyed the chaos from the height of his magnificent fortune, +unmoved and immovable, awaiting the lowest ebb of the tide. The +Saracinesca looked on, hampered a little by the sudden fall in rents and +other sources of their income, but still superior to events, though +secretly anxious about Orsino's affairs, and daily expecting that he +must fail. + +And Orsino himself had changed, as was natural enough. He was learning +to seem what he was not, and those who have learned that lesson know how +it influences the real man whom no one can judge but himself. So long as +there had been one person in his life with whom he could live in perfect +sympathy he had given himself little trouble about his outward +behaviour. So long as he had felt that, come what might, his mother was +on his side, he had not thought it worth his while not to be natural +with every one, according to his humour. He was wrong, no doubt, in +fancying that Corona had deserted him. But he had already suffered a +loss, in Maria Consuelo, which had at the time seemed the greatest +conceivable, and the pain he had suffered then, together with, the deep +though, unacknowledged wound to his vanity, had predisposed him to +believe that he was destined to be friendless. The consequence was that +a very slight break in the perfect understanding which had so long +existed between him and his mother had produced serious results. He now +felt that he was completely alone, and like most lonely men of sound +character he acquired the habit of keeping his troubles entirely to +himself, while affecting an almost unnaturally quiet and equable manner +with those around him. On the whole, he found that his life was easier +when he lived it on this principle. He found that he was more careful in +his actions since he had a part to sustain, and that his opinion carried +more weight since he expressed it more cautiously and seemed less liable +to fluctuations of mood and temper. The change in his character was more +apparent than real, perhaps, as changes of character generally are when +not in the way of logical development; but the constant thought of +appearances reacts upon the inner nature in the end, and much which at +first is only put on, becomes a habit next, and ends by taking the place +of an impulse. + +Orsino was aware that his chief preoccupation was identical with that +which absorbed his mother's thoughts. He wished to free himself from the +business in which he was so deeply involved, and which still prospered +so strangely in spite of the general ruin. But here the community of +ideas ended. He wished to free himself in his own way, without +humiliating himself by going to his father for help. Meanwhile, too, +Sant' Ilario himself had his doubts concerning his own judgment. It was +inconceivable to him that Del Ferice could be losing money to oblige +Orsino, and if he had desired to ruin him he could have done so with +ease a hundred times in the past months. It might be, he said to +himself, that Orsino had after all, a surprising genius for affairs and +had weathered the storm in the face of tremendous difficulties. Orsino +saw the belief growing in his father's mind, and the certainty that it +was there did not dispose him to throw up the fight and acknowledge +himself beaten. + +The Saracinesca were one of the very few Roman families in which there +is a tradition in favour of non-interference with the action of children +already of age. The consequence was that although the old Prince, +Giovanni and his wife, all three felt considerable anxiety, they did +nothing to hamper Orsino's action, beyond an occasionally repeated +warning to be careful. That his occupation was distasteful to them, they +did not conceal, but he met their expressions of opinion with perfect +equanimity and outward good humour, even when his mother, once his +staunch ally, openly advised him to give up business and travel for a +year. Their prejudice was certainly not unnatural, and had been +strengthened by the perusal of the unsavoury details published by the +papers at each new bankruptcy during the year. But they found Orsino now +always the same, always quiet, good-humoured and firm in his projects. + +Andrea Contini had not been very exact in his calculation of the date at +which the last door and the last window would be placed in the last of +the houses which he and Orsino had undertaken to build. The disturbance +in business might account for the delay. At all events it was late in +April of the following year before the work was completed. Then Orsino +went to Del Ferice. + +"Of course," he said, maintaining the appearance of calm which had now +become habitual with him, "I cannot expect to pay what I owe the bank, +unless I can effect a sale of these buildings. You have known that, all +along, as well as I. The question is, can they be sold?" + +"You have no applicant, then?" Del Ferice looked grave and somewhat +surprised. + +"No. We have received no offer." + +"You owe the bank a very large sum on these buildings, Don Orsino." + +"Secured by mortgages on them," answered the young man quietly, but +preparing for trouble. + +"Just so. Secured by mortgages. But if the bank should foreclose within +the next few months, and if the buildings do not realize the amount +secured, Contini and Company are liable for the difference." + +"I know that." + +"And the market is very bad, Don Orsino, and shows no signs of +improvement." + +"On the other hand the houses are finished, habitable, and can be let +immediately." + +"They are certainly finished. You must be aware that the bank has +continued to advance the sums necessary for two reasons. Firstly, +because an expensive but habitable dwelling is better than a cheap one +with no roof. Secondly, because in doing business with Andrea Contini +and Company we have been dealing with the only really honest and +economical firm in Rome." + +Orsino smiled vaguely, but said nothing. He had not much faith in Del +Ferice's flattery. + +"But that," continued the latter, "does not dispense us from the +necessity of realising what is owing to us--I mean the bank--either in +money, or in an equivalent--or in an equivalent," he repeated, +thoughtfully rolling a big silver pencil case backward and forward upon +the table under his fat white hand. + +"Evidently," assented Orsino. "Unfortunately, at the present time, there +seems to be no equivalent for ready money." + +"No--no--perhaps not," said Ugo, apparently becoming more and more +absorbed in his own thoughts. "And yet," he added, after a little pause, +"an arrangement may be possible. The houses certainly possess advantages +over much of this wretched property which is thrown upon the market. The +position is good and the work is good. Your work is very good, Don +Orsino. You know that better than I. Yes--the houses have advantages, I +admit. The bank has a great deal of waste masonry on its hands, Don +Orsino--more than I like to think of." + +"Unfortunately, again, the time for improving such property is gone by." + +"It is never too late to mend, says the proverb," retorted Del Ferice +with a smile. "I have a proposition to make. I will state it clearly. If +it is not to our mutual advantage, I think neither of us will lose so +much by it as we should lose in other ways. It is simply this. We will +cry quits. You have a small account current with the bank, and you must +sacrifice the credit balance--it is not much, I find--about thirty-five +thousand." + +"That was chiefly the profit on the first contract," observed Orsino. + +"Precisely. It will help to cover the bank's loss on this. It will help, +because when I say we will cry quits, I mean that you shall receive an +equivalent for your houses--a nominal equivalent of course, which the +bank nominally takes back as payment of the mortgages." + +"That is not very clear," said Orsino. "I do not understand you." + +"No," laughed Del Ferice. "I admit that it is not. It represented rather +my own view of the transaction than the practical side. But I will +explain myself beyond the possibility of mistake. The bank takes the +houses and your cash balance and cancels the mortgages. You are then +released from all debt and all obligation upon the old contract. But the +bank makes one condition which, is important. You must buy from the +bank, on mortgage of course, certain unfinished buildings which it now +owns, and you--Andrea Contini and Company--must take a contract to +complete them within a given time, the bank advancing you money as +before upon notes of hand, secured by subsequent and successive +mortgages." + +Orsino was silent. He saw that if he accepted, Del Ferice was receiving +the work of a whole year and more without allowing the smallest profit +to the workers, besides absorbing the profits of a previous successfully +executed contract, and besides taking it for granted that the existing +mortgages only just covered the value of the buildings. If, as was +probable, Del Ferice had means of either selling or letting the houses, +he stood to make an enormous profit. He saw, too, that if he accepted +now, he must in all likelihood be driven to accept similar conditions on +a future occasion, and that he would be binding Andrea Contini and +himself to work, and to work hard, for nothing and perhaps during years. + +But he saw also that the only alternative was an appeal to his father, +or bankruptcy which ultimately meant the same thing. Del Ferice spoke +again. + +"Whether you agree, or whether you prefer a foreclosure, we shall both +lose. But we should lose more by the latter course. In the interests of +the bank I trust that you will accept. You see how frankly I speak about +it. In the interests of the bank. But then, I need not remind you that +it would hardly be fair to let us lose heavily when you can make the +loss relatively a slight one--considering how the bank has behaved to +you, and to you alone, throughout this fatal year." + +"I will give you an answer to-morrow," said Orsino. + +He thought of poor Contini who would find that he had worked for nothing +during a whole year. But then, it would be easy for Orsino to give +Contini a sum of money out of his private resources. Anything was better +than giving up the struggle and applying to his father. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + + +Orsino was to all intents and purposes without a friend. How far +circumstances had contributed to this result and how far he himself was +to blame for his lonely state, those may judge who have followed his +history to this point. His grandfather had indeed offered him help and +in a way to make it acceptable if he had felt that he could accept it +at all. But the old Prince did not in the least understand the business +nor the situation. Moreover a young fellow of two or three and twenty +does not look for a friend in the person of a man sixty years older than +himself. While maintaining the most uniformly good relations in his +home, Orsino felt himself estranged from his father and mother. His +brothers were too young, and were generally away from home at school and +college, and he had no sisters. Beyond the walls of the Palazzo +Saracinesca, San Giacinto was the only man whom he would willingly have +consulted; but San Giacinto was of all men the one least inclined to +intimacy with his neighbours, and, after all, as Orsino reflected, he +would probably repeat the advice he had already given, if he vouchsafed +counsel of any kind. + +He thought of all his acquaintance and came to the conclusion that he +was in reality in terms more closely approaching to friendship with +Andrea Contini than with any man of his own class. Yet he would have +hesitated to call the architect his friend, as he would have found it +impossible to confide in him concerning any detail of his own private +life. + +At a time when most young men are making friends, Orsino had been +hindered, from the formation of such ties by the two great interests +which had absorbed his existence, his attachment and subsequent love for +Maria Consuelo, and the business at which he had worked so steadily. He +had lost Maria Consuelo, in whom he would have confided as he had often +done before, and at the present important juncture he stood quite alone. + +He felt that he was no match for Del Ferice. The keen banker was making +use of him for his own purposes in a way which neither Orsino nor +Contini had ever suspected. It could not be supposed that Ugo had +foreseen from the first the advantage he might reap from the firm he had +created and which was so wholly dependent on him. Orsino might have +turned out ignorant and incapable. Contini might have proved idle and +even dishonest. But, instead of this, the experiment had succeeded +admirably and Ugo found himself possessed of an instrument, as it were, +precisely adapted to his end, which was to make worthless property +valuable at the smallest possible expense, in fact, at the lowest cost +price. He had secured a first-rate architect and a first-rate +accountant, both men of spotless integrity, both young, energetic and +unusually industrious. He paid nothing for their services and he +entirely controlled their expenditure. It was clear that he would do his +utmost to maintain an arrangement so immensely profitable to himself. If +Orsino had realised exactly how profitable it was, he might have forced +Del Ferice to share the gain with him, and would have done so for the +sake of Contini, if not for his own. He suspected, indeed, that Ugo was +certain beforehand, in each case, of selling or letting the houses, but +he had no proof of the fact. Ugo did not leave everything to his +confidential clerk, and the secrets he kept to himself were well kept. + +Orsino consulted Contini, as a matter of necessity, before accepting Del +Ferice's last offer. The architect went into a tragic-comic rage, bit +his cigar through several times, ground his teeth, drank several glasses +of cold water, talked of the blood of Cola di Rienzo, vowed vengeance on +Del Ferice and finally submitted. + +The signing of the new contract determined the course of Orsino's life +for another year. It is surprising to see, in the existence of others, +how periods of monotonous calm succeed seasons of storm and danger. In +our own they do not astonish us so much, if at all. Orsino continued to +work hard, to live regularly and to do all those things which, under the +circumstances he ought to have done and earned the reputation of being a +model young man, a fact which surprised him on one or two occasions when +it came to his ears. Yet when he reflected upon it, he saw that he was +in reality not like other young men, and that his conduct was +undoubtedly abnormally good as viewed by those around him. His +grandfather began to look upon him as something almost unnatural, and +more than once hinted to Giovanni that the boy, as he still called him, +ought to behave like other boys. + +"He is more like San Giacinto than any of us," said Giovanni, +thoughtfully. "He has taken after that branch." + +"If that is the case, he might have done worse," answered the old man. +"I like San Giacinto. But you always judge superficially, Giovanni--you +always did. And the worst of it is, you are always perfectly well +satisfied with your own judgments." + +"Possibly. I have certainly not accepted those of others." + +"And the result is that you are turning into an oyster--and Orsino has +begun to turn into an oyster, too, and the other boys will follow his +example--a perfect oyster-bed! Go and take Orsino by the throat and +shake him--" + +"I regret to say that I am physically not equal to that feat," said +Giovanni with a laugh. + +"I should be!" exclaimed the aged Prince, doubling his hard hand and +bringing it down on the table, while his bright eyes gleamed. "Go and +shake him, and tell him to give up this dirty building business--make +him give it up, buy him out of it, put plenty of money into his pockets +and send him off to amuse himself! You and Corona have made a prig of +him, and business is making an oyster of him, and he will be a hopeless +idiot before you realise it! Stir him, shake him, make him move! I hate +your furniture-man--who is always in the right place and always ready to +be sat upon!" + +"If you can persuade him to give up affairs I have no objection." + +"Persuade him! I never knew a man worth speaking to who could be +persuaded to anything he did not like. Make him--that is the way." + +"But since he is behaving himself and is occupied--that is better than +the lives all these young fellows are leading." + +"Do not argue with me, Giovanni, I hate it. Besides, your reason is +worth nothing at all. Did I spend my youth over accounts, in the society +of an architect? Did I put water in my wine and sit up like a model +little boy at my papa's table and spend my evenings in carrying my +mamma's fan? Nonsense! And yet all that was expected in my day, in a way +it is not expected now. Look at yourself. You are bad enough--dull +enough, I mean. Did you waste the best years of your life in counting +bricks and measuring mortar?" + +"You say that you hate argument, and yet you are arguing. But Orsino +shall please himself, as I did, and in his own way. I will certainly not +interfere." + +"Because you know you can do nothing with him!" retorted old Saracinesca +contemptuously. + +Giovanni laughed. Twenty years earlier he would have lost his temper to +no purpose. But twenty years of unruffled existence had changed him. + +"You are not the man you were," grumbled his father. + +"No. I have been too happy, far too long, to be much like what I was at +thirty." + +"And do you mean to say I am not happy, and have not been happy, and do +not mean to be happy, and do not wish everybody to be happy, so long as +this old machine hangs together? What nonsense you talk, my boy. Go and +make love to your wife. That is all you are fit for!" + +Discussions of this kind were not unfrequent but of course led to +nothing. As a matter of fact Sant' Ilario was quite right in believing +interference useless. It would have been impossible. He was no more able +to change Orsino's determination than he was physically capable of +shaking him. Not that Sant' Ilario was weak, physically or morally, nor +ever had been. But his son had grown up to be stronger than he. + +Twelve months passed away. During that time the young man worked, as he +had worked before, regularly and untiringly. But his object now was to +free himself, and he no longer hoped to make a fortune or to do any +thing beyond the strict execution of the contract he had in hand, +determined if possible to avoid taking another. With a coolness and +self-denial beyond his years, he systematically hoarded the allowance he +received from his father, in order to put together a sum of money for +poor Contini. He made economies everywhere, refused to go into society +and spent his evenings in reading. His acquired manner stood him in good +stead, but he could not bear more than a limited amount of the daily +talk in the family. Being witty, rather than gay, if he could be said to +be either, he found himself inclined rather to be bitter than amusing +when he was wearied by the monotonous conversation of others. He knew +this to be a mistake and controlled himself, taking refuge in solitude +and books when he could control himself no longer. + +Whether he loved Maria Consuelo still, or not, it was clear that he was +not inclined to love any one else for the present. The tolerably +harmless dissipation and wildness of the two or three years he had spent +in England could not account for such a period of coldness as followed +his separation from Maria Consuelo. He had by no means exhausted the +pleasures of life and his capacity for enjoyment could not even be said +to have reached its height. But he avoided the society of women even +more consistently than he shunned the club and the card table. + +More than a year had gone by since he had heard from Maria Consuelo. He +met Spicca from time to time, looking now as though he had not a day to +live, but neither of them mentioned past events. The Romans had talked a +little of her sudden change of plans, for it had been known that she had +begun to furnish a large apartment for the winter of the previous year, +and had then very unaccountably changed her mind and left the place in +the hands of an agent to be sub-let. People said she had lost her +fortune. Then she had been forgotten in the general disaster that +followed, and no one had taken the trouble to remember her since then. +Even Gouache, who had once been so enthusiastic over her portrait, did +not seem to know or care what had become of her. Once only, and quite +accidentally, Orsino had authentic information of her whereabouts. He +took up an English society journal one evening and glanced idly over the +paragraphs. Maria Consuelo's name arrested his attention. A certain very +high and mighty old lady of royal lineage was about to travel in Egypt +during the winter. "Her Royal Highness," said the paper, "will be +accompanied by the Countess d'Aranjuez d'Aragona." Orsino's hand shook a +little as he laid the sheet aside, and he was pale when he rose a few +moments later and went off to his own room. He could not help wondering +why Maria Consuelo was styled by a title to which she certainly had a +legal right, but which she had never before used, and he wondered still +more why she travelled in Egypt with an old princess who was generally +said to be anything but an agreeable companion, and was reported to be +quite deaf. But on the whole he thought little of the information +itself. It was the sight of Maria Consuelo's name which had moved him, +and he was not altogether himself for several days. The impression wore +off before long, and he followed the round of his monotonous life as +before. + +Early in the month of March in the year 1890, he was seated alone in his +room one evening before dinner. The great contract he had undertaken was +almost finished, and he knew that within two months he would be placed +in the same difficult position from which he had formerly so signally +failed to extricate himself. That he and Contini had executed the terms +of the contract with scrupulous and conscientious nicety did not better +the position. That they had made the most strenuous efforts to find +purchasers for the property, as they had a right to do if they could, +and had failed, made the position hopeless or almost as bad as that. +Whether they liked it or not, Del Ferice had so arranged that the great +mass of their acceptances should fall due about the time when the work +would be finished. To mortgage on the same terms or anything approaching +the same terms with any other bank was out of the question, so that they +had no hope of holding the property for the purpose of leasing it. Even +if Orsino could have contemplated for a moment such an act of bad faith +as wilfully retarding the work in order to gain a renewal of the bills, +such a course could have led to no actual improvement in the situation. +The property was unsaleable and Del Ferice knew it, and had no intention +of selling it. He meant to keep it for himself and let it, as a +permanent source of income. It would not have cost him in the end one +half of its actual value, and was exceptionally good property. Orsino +saw how hopeless it was to attempt resistance, unless he would resign +himself to voting an appeal to his own people, and this, as of old, he +was resolved not to do. + +He was reflecting upon his life of bondage when a servant brought him a +letter. He tossed it aside without looking at it, but it chanced to slip +from the polished table and fall to the ground. As he picked it up his +attention was arrested by the handwriting and by the stamp. The stamp +was Egyptian and the writing was that of Maria Consuelo. He started, +tore open the envelope and took out a letter of many pages, written on +thin paper. At first he found it hard to follow the characters, and his +heart beat at a rate which annoyed him. He rose, walked the length of +the room and back again, sat down in another seat close to the lamp and +read the letter steadily from beginning to end. + + + "My Dear Friend--You may, perhaps, be surprised at hearing from me + after so long a time. I received your last letter. How long ago was + that? Twelve, fourteen, fifteen months? I do not know. It is as + well to forget, since I at least would rather not remember what you + wrote. And I write now--why? Simply because I have the impulse to + do so. That is the best of all reasons. I wish to hear from you, + which is selfish; and I wish to hear about you, which is not. Are + you still working at that business in which you were so much + interested? Or have you given it up and gone back to the life you + used to hate so thoroughly? I would like to know. Do you remember + how angry I was long ago, because you agreed to meet Del Ferice in + my drawing-room? I was very wrong, for the meeting led to many good + results. I like to think that you are not quite like all the young + men of your set, who do nothing--and cannot even do that + gracefully. I think you used those very words about yourself, once + upon a time. But you proved that you could live a very different + life if you chose. I hope you are living it still. + + "And so poor Donna Tullia is dead--has been dead a year and a half! + I wrote Del Ferice a long letter when I got the news. He answered + me. He is not as bad as you used to think, for he was terribly + pained by his loss--I could see that well enough in what he wrote + though there was nothing exaggerated or desperate in the phrases. + In fact there were no phrases at all. I wish I had kept the letter + to send to you, but I never keep letters. Poor Donna Tullia! I + cannot imagine Rome without her. It would certainly not be the same + place to me, for she was uniformly kind and thoughtful where I was + concerned, whatever she may have been to others. + + "Echoes reach me from time to time in different parts of the world, + as I travel, and Rome seems to be changed in many ways. They say + the ruin was dreadful when the crash came. I suppose you gave up + business then, as was natural, since they say there is no more + business to do. But I would be glad to know that nothing + disagreeable happened to you in the financial storm. I confess to + having felt an unaccountable anxiety about you of late. Perhaps + that is why I write and why I hope for an answer at once. I have + always looked upon presentiments and forewarnings and all such + intimations as utterly false and absurd, and I do not really + believe that anything has happened or is happening to distress you. + But it is our woman's privilege to be inconsistent, and we should + be still more inconsistent if we did not use it. Besides I have + felt the same vague disquietude about you more than once before and + have not written. Perhaps I should not write even now unless I had + a great deal more time at my disposal than I know what to do with. + Who knows? If you are busy, write a word on a post-card, just to + say that nothing is the matter. Here in Egypt we do not realise + what time means, and certainly not that it can ever mean money. + + "It is an idle life, less idle for me perhaps than for some of + those about me, but even for me not over-full of occupations. The + climate occupies all the time not actually spent in eating, + sleeping and visiting ruins. It is fair, I suppose, to tell you + something of myself since I ask for news of you. I will tell you + what I can. + + "I am travelling with an old lady, as her companion--not exactly + out of inclination and yet not exactly out of duty. Is that too + mysterious? Do you see me as Companion and general amuser to an old + lady--over seventy years of age? No. I presume not. And I am not + with her by necessity either, for I have not suffered any losses. + On the contrary, since I dismissed a certain person--an attendant, + we will call her--from my service, it seems to me that my income is + doubled. The attendant, by the bye, has opened a hotel on the Lake + of Como. Perhaps you, who are so good a man of business, may see + some connexion between these simple facts. I was never good at + managing money, nor at understanding what it meant. It seems that I + have not inherited all the family talents. + + "But I return to Egypt, to the Nile, to this dahabiyah, on board of + which it has pleased the fates to dispose my existence for the + present. I am not called a companion, but a lady in waiting, which + would be only another term for the same thing, if I were not really + very much attached to the Princess, old and deaf as she is. And + that is saying a great deal. No one knows what deafness means who + has not read aloud to a deaf person, which is what I do every day. + I do not think I ever told you about her. I have known her all my + life, ever since I was a little girl in the convent in Vienna. She + used to come and see me and bring me good things--and books of + prayers--I remember especially a box of candied fruits which she + told me came from Kiew. I have never eaten any like them since. I + wonder how many sincere affections between young and old people owe + their existence originally to a confectioner! + + "When I left Rome, I met her again in Nice. She was there with the + Prince, who was in wretched health and who died soon afterwards. He + never was so fond of me as she was. After his death, she asked me + to stay with her as long as I would. I do not think I shall leave + her again so long as she lives. She treats me like her own + child--or rather, her grandchild--and besides, the life suits me + very well. I am, really, perfectly independent, and yet I am + perfectly protected. I shall not repeat the experiment of living + alone for three years, until I am much older. + + "It is a rather strange friendship. My Princess knows all about + me--all that you know. I told her one day and she did not seem at + all surprised. I thought I owed her the truth about myself, since I + was to live with her, and since she had always been so kind to me. + She says I remind her of her daughter, the poor young Princess + Marie, who died nearly thirty years ago. In Nice, too, like her + father, poor girl. She was only just nineteen, and very beautiful + they say. I suppose the dear good old lady fancies she sees some + resemblance even now, though I am so much older than her daughter + was when she died. There is the origin of our friendship--the + trivial and the tragic--confectionery and death--a box of candied + fruits and an irreparable loss! If there were no contrasts what + would the world be? All one or the other, I suppose. All death, or + all Kiew sweetmeats. + + "I suppose you know what life in Egypt is like. If you have not + tried it yourself, your friends have and can describe it to you. I + will certainly not inflict my impressions upon your friendship. It + would be rather a severe test--perhaps yours would not bear it, and + then I should be sorry. + + "Do you know? I like to think that I have a friend in you. I like + to remember the time when you used to talk to me of all your + plans--the dear old time! I would rather remember that than much + which came afterwards. You have forgiven me for all I did, and are + glad, now, that I did it. Yes, I can fancy your smile. You do not + see yourself, Prince Saracinesca, Prince Sant' Ilario, Duke of + Whatever-it-may-be, Lord of ever so many What-are-their-names, + Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, Grandee of Spain of the First + Class, Knight of Malta and Hereditary Something to the Holy See--in + short the tremendous personage you will one day be--you do not + exactly see yourself as the son-in-law of the Signora Lucrezia + Ferris, proprietor of a tourist's hotel on the Lake of Como! + Confess that the idea was an absurdity! As for me, I will confess + that I did very wrong. Had I known all the truth on that + afternoon--do you remember the thunderstorm? I would have saved you + much, and I should have saved myself--well--something. But we have + better things to do than to run after shadows. Perhaps it is as + well not even to think of them. It is all over now. Whatever you + may think of it all, forgive your old friend, + + Maria Consuelo d'A." + +Orsino read the long letter to the end, and sat a while thinking over +the contents. Two points in it struck him especially. In the first place +it was not the letter of a woman who wished to call back a man she had +dismissed. There was no sentiment in it, or next to none. She professed +herself contented in her life, if not happy, and in one sentence she +brought before him the enormous absurdity of the marriage he had once +contemplated. He had more than once been ashamed of not making some +further direct effort to win her again. He was now suddenly conscious of +the great influence which her first letter, containing the statement of +her parentage, had really exercised over him. Strangely enough, what she +now wrote reconciled him, as it were, with himself. It had turned out +best, after all. + +That he loved her still, he felt sure, as he held in his hand the pages +she had written and felt the old thrill he knew so well in his fingers, +and the old, quick beating of the heart. But he acknowledged gladly--too +gladly, perhaps--that he had done well to let her go. + +Then came the second impression. "I like to remember the time when you +used to talk to me of all your plans." The words rang in his ears and +called up delicious visions of the past, soft hours spent by her side +while she listened with something warmer than patience to the outpouring +of his young hopes and aspirations. She, at least, had understood him, +and encouraged him, and strengthened him with her sympathy. And why not +now, if then? Why should she not understand him now, when he most needed +a friend, and give him sympathy now, when he stood most in need of it? +She was in Egypt and he in Rome, it was true. But what of that? If she +could write to him, he could write to her, and she could answer him +again. No one had ever felt with him as she had. + +He did not hesitate long. On that same evening, after dinner, he went +back to his own room and wrote to her. It was a little hard at first, +but, as the ink flowed, he expressed himself better and more clearly. +With an odd sort of caution, which had grown upon him of late, he tried +to make his letter take a form as similar to hers as possible. + + + "MY DEAR FRIEND" (he wrote)--"If people always yielded to their + impulses as you have done in writing to me, there would be more + good fellowship and less loneliness in the world. It would not be + easy for me to tell you how great a pleasure you have given me. + Perhaps, hereafter, I may compare it to your own memory of the Kiew + candied fruits! For the present I do not find a worthy comparison + to my hand. + + "You ask many questions. I propose to answer them all. Will you + have the patience to read what I write? I hope so, for the sake of + the time when I used to talk to you of all my plans--and which you + say you like to remember. For another reason, too. I have never + felt so lonely in my life as I feel now, nor so much in need of a + friend--not a helping friend, but one to whom I can speak a little + freely. I am very much alone. A sort of estrangement has grown up + between my mother and me, and she no longer takes my side in all I + want to do, as she did once. + + "I will be quite plain. I will tell you all my troubles, because + there is not another person in the world to whom I could tell + them--and because I know that they will not trouble you. You will + feel a little friendly sympathy, and that will be enough. But you + will feel no pain. After all, I daresay that I exaggerate, and that + there is nothing so very painful in the matter, as it will strike + you. But the case is serious, as you will see. It involves my life, + perhaps for many years to come. + + "I am completely in Del Ferice's power. A year ago I had the + possibility of freeing myself. What do you think that chance was? I + could have gone to my grandfather and asked him to lay down a sum + of money sufficient to liberate me, or I could have refused Del + Ferice's new offer and allowed myself to be declared bankrupt. My + abominable vanity stood in the way of my following either of those + plans. In less than two months I shall be placed in the same + position again. But the circumstances are changed. The sum of money + is so considerable that I would not like to ask all my family, with + their three fortunes, to contribute it. The business is enormous. I + have an establishment like a bank and Contini--you remember + Contini?--has several assistant architects. Moreover we stand + alone. There is no other firm of the kind left, and our failure + would be a very disagreeable affair. But so long as I remain Del + Ferice's slave, we shall not fail. Do you know that this great and + successful firm is carried on systematically without a centime of + profit to the partners, and with the constant threat of a + disgraceful failure, used to force me on? Do you think that if I + chose the alternative, any one would believe, or that my tyrant + would let any one believe, that Orsino Saracinesca had served Ugo + Del Ferice for years--two years and a half before long--as a sort + of bondsman? I am in a very unenviable position. I am sure that Del + Ferice made use of me at first for his own ends--that is, to make + money for him. The magnitude of the sums which pass through my + hands makes me sure that he is now backed by a powerful syndicate, + probably of foreign bankers who lost money in the Roman crash, and + who see a chance of getting it back through Del Ferice's + management. It is a question of millions. You do not understand? + Will you try to read my explanation?" + +And here Orsino summed up his position towards Del Ferice in a clear and +succinct statement, which it is not necessary to reproduce here. It +needed no talent for business on Maria Consuelo's part to understand +that he was bound hand and foot. + + + "One of three things must happen" (Orsino continued). "I must + cripple, if not ruin, the fortune of my family, or I must go + through a scandalous bankruptcy, or I must continue to be Ugo Del + Ferice's servant during the best years of my life. My only + consolation is that I am unpaid. I do not speak of poor Contini. He + is making a reputation, it is true, and Del Ferice gives him + something which I increase as much as I can. Considering our + positions, he is the more completely sacrificed of the two, poor + fellow--and through my fault. If I had only had the courage to put + my vanity out of the way eighteen months ago, I might have saved + him as well as myself. I believed myself a match for Del + Ferice--and I neither was nor ever shall be. I am a little + desperate. + + "That is my life, my dear friend. Since you have not quite + forgotten me, write me a word of that good old sympathy on which I + lived so long. It may soon be all I have to live on. If Del Ferice + should have the bad taste to follow Donna Tullia to Saint + Lawrence's, nothing could save me. I should no longer have the + alternative of remaining his slave in exchange for safety from + bankruptcy to myself and ruin--or something like it--to my father. + + "But let us talk no more about it all. But for your kindly letter, + no one would ever have known all this, except Contini. In your calm + Egyptian life--thank God, dear, that your life is calm!--my story + must sound like a fragment from an unpleasant dream. One thing you + do not tell me. Are you happy, as well as peaceful? I would like to + know. I am not. + + "Pray write again, when you have time--and inclination. If there is + anything to be done for you in Rome--any little thing, or great + thing either--command your old friend, + + "ORSINO SARACINESCA." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + + +Orsino posted his letter with an odd sensation of relief. He felt that +he was once more in communication with humanity, since he had been able +to speak out and tell some one of the troubles that oppressed him. He +had assuredly no reason for being more hopeful than before, and matters +were in reality growing more serious every day; but his heart was +lighter and he took a more cheerful view of the future, almost against +his own better judgment. + +He had not expected to receive an answer from Maria Consuelo for some +time and was surprised when one came in less than ten days from the date +of his writing. This letter was short, hurriedly written and carelessly +worded, but there was a ring of anxiety for him in every line of it +which he could not misinterpret. Not only did she express the deepest +sympathy for him and assure him that all he did still had the liveliest +interest for her, but she also insisted upon being informed of the state +of his affairs as often as possible. He had spoken of three +possibilities, she said. Was there not a fourth somewhere? There might +often be an issue from the most desperate situation, of which no one +dreamed. Could she not help him to discover where it lay in this case? +Could they not write to each other and find it out together? + +Orsino looked uneasily at the lines, and the blood rose to his temples. +Did she mean what she said, or more, or less? He was overwrought and +over-sensitive, and she had written thoughtlessly, as though not +weighing her words, but only following an impulse for which she had no +time to find the proper expression. She could not imagine that he would +accept substantial help from her--still less that he would consent to +marry her for the sake of the fortune which might save him. He grew very +angry, then turned cold again, and then, reading the words again, saw +that he had no right to attach any such meaning to them. Then it struck +him that even if, by any possibility, she had meant to convey such an +idea, he would have no right at all to resent it. Women, he reflected, +did not look upon such matters as men did. She had refused to marry him +when he was prosperous. If she meant that she would marry him now, to +save him from ruin, he could not but acknowledge that she was carrying +devotion near to its farthest limit. But the words themselves would not +bear such an interpretation. He was straining language too far in +suggesting it. + +"And yet she means something," he said to himself. "Something which I +cannot understand." + +He wrote again, maintaining the tone of his first letter more carefully +than she had done on her part, though not sparing the warmest +expressions of heartfelt thanks for the sympathy she had so readily +given. But there was no fourth way, he said. One of those three things +which he had explained to her must happen. There was no hope, and he was +resigned to continue his existence of slavery until Del Ferice's death +brought about the great crisis of his life. Not that Del Ferice was in +any danger of dying, he added, in spite of the general gossip about his +bad health. Such men often outlasted stronger people, as Ugo had +outlived Donna Tullia. Not that his death would improve matters, either, +as they stood at present. That he had explained before. If the count +died now, there were ninety-nine chances out of a hundred that Orsino +would be ruined. For the present, nothing would happen. In little more +than a month--in six weeks at the utmost--a new arrangement would be +forced upon him, binding him perhaps for years to come. Del Ferice had +already spoken to him of a great public undertaking, at least half of +the contract for which could easily be secured or controlled by his +bank. He had added that this might be a favourable occasion for Andrea +Contini and Company to act in concert with the bank. Orsino knew what +that meant. Indeed, there was no possibility of mistaking the meaning, +which was clear enough. The fourth plan could only lie in finding +beforehand a purchaser for buildings which could not be so disposed of, +because they were built for a particular purpose, and could only be +bought by those who had ordered them, namely persons whom Del Ferice so +controlled that he could postpone their appearance if he chose and drive +Orsino into a failure at any moment after the completion of the work. +For instance, one of those buildings was evidently intended for a +factory, and probably for a match factory. Del Ferice, in requiring that +Contini and Company should erect what he had already arranged to dispose +of, had vaguely remarked that there were no match factories in Rome and +that perhaps some one would like to buy one. If Orsino had been less +desperate he would willingly have risked much to resent the suave +insolence. As it was, he had laughed in his tyrant's face, and bitterly +enough; a form of insult, however, to which Ugo was supremely +indifferent. These and many other details Orsino wrote to Maria +Consuelo, pouring out his confidence with the assurance of a man who +asks nothing but sympathy and is sure of receiving that in overflowing +measure. He no longer waited for her answers, as the crucial moment +approached, but wrote freely from day to day, as he felt inclined. +There was little which he did not tell her in the dozen or fifteen +letters he penned in the course of the month. Like many reticent men who +have never taken up a pen except for ordinary correspondence or for the +routine work of a business requiring accuracy, and who all at once begin +to write the history of their daily lives for the perusal of one trusted +person, Orsino felt as though he had found a new means of expression and +abandoned himself willingly to the comparative pleasure of complete +confidence. Like all such men, too, he unconsciously exhibited the chief +fault of his character in his long, diary-like letters. That fault was +his vanity. Had he been describing a great success he could and would +have concealed it better; in writing of his own successive errors and +disappointments he showed by the excessive blame he cast upon himself, +how deeply that vanity of his was wounded. It is possible that Maria +Consuelo discovered this. But she made no profession of analysis, and +while appearing outwardly far colder than Orsino, she seemed much more +disposed than he to yield to unexpected impulses when she felt their +influence. And Orsino was quite unconscious that he might be exhibiting +the defects of his moral nature to eyes keener than his own. + +He wrote constantly therefore, with the utmost freedom, and in the +moments while he was writing he enjoyed a faint illusion of increased +safety, as though he were retarding the events of the future by +describing minutely those of the past. More than once again Maria +Consuelo answered him, and always in the same strain, doing her best, +apparently, to give him hope and to reconcile him with himself. However +much he might condemn his own lack of foresight, she said, no man who +did his best according to his best judgment, and who acted honourably, +was to be blamed for the result, though it might involve the ruin of +thousands. That was her chief argument and it comforted him, and seemed +to relieve him from a small part of the responsibility which weighed so +heavily upon his shoulders, a burden now grown so heavy that the least +lightening of it made him feel comparatively free until called upon to +face facts again and fight with realities. + +But events would not be retarded, and Orsino's own good qualities tended +to hasten them, as they had to a great extent been the cause of his +embarrassment ever since the success of his first attempt, in making him +valuable as a slave to be kept from escaping at all risks. The system +upon which the business was conducted was admirable. It had been good +from the beginning and Orsino had improved it to a degree very uncommon +in Rome. He had mastered the science of book-keeping in a short time, +and had forced himself to an accuracy of detail and a promptness of +ready reference which would have surprised many an old professional +clerk. It must be remembered that from the first he had found little +else to do. The technical work had always been in Contini's hands, and +Del Ferice's forethought had relieved them both from the necessity of +entering upon financial negotiations requiring time, diplomatic tact and +skill of a higher order. The consequence was that Orsino had devoted the +whole of his great energy and native talent for order to the keeping of +the books, with the result that when a contract had been executed there +was hardly any accountant's work to be done. Nominally, too, Andrea +Contini and Company were not responsible to any one for their +book-keeping; but in practice, and under pretence of rendering valuable +service, Del Ferice sent an auditor from time to time to look into the +state of affairs, a proceeding which Contini bitterly resented while +Orsino expressed himself perfectly indifferent to the interference, on +the ground that there was nothing to conceal. Had the books been badly +kept, the final winding up of each contract would have been retarded for +one or more weeks. But the more deeply Orsino became involved, the more +keenly he felt the value and, at last, the vital importance, of the +most minute accuracy. If worse came to worst and he should be obliged +to fail, through Del Ferice's sudden death or from any other cause, his +reputation as an honourable man might depend upon this very accuracy of +detail, by which he would be able to prove that in the midst of great +undertakings, and while very large sums of money were passing daily +through his hands, he had never received even the very smallest share of +the profits absorbed by the bank. He even kept a private account of his +own expenditure on the allowance he received from his father, in order +that, if called upon, he might be able to prove how large a part of that +allowance he regularly paid to poor Contini as compensation for the +unhappy position in which the latter found himself. If bankruptcy +awaited him, his failure would, if the facts were properly made known, +reckon as one of the most honourable on record, though he was pleased to +look upon such a contingency as a certain source of scandal and more +than possible disgrace. + +Unconsciously his own determined industry in book-keeping gave him a +little more confidence. In his great anxiety he was spared the terrible +uncertainty felt by a man who does not precisely know his own financial +position at a given critical moment. His studiously acquired outward +calm also stood him in good stead. Even San Giacinto who knew the +financial world as few men knew it watched his youthful cousin with +curiosity and not without a certain sympathy and a very little +admiration. The young man's face was growing stern and thoughtful like +his own, lean, grave and strong. San Giacinto remembered that night a +year and a half earlier when he had warned Orsino of the coming danger, +and he was almost displeased with himself now for having taken a step +which seemed to have been unnecessary. It was San Giacinto's principle +never to do anything unnecessary, because a useless action meant a loss +of time and therefore a loss of advantage over the adversary of the +moment. San Giacinto, in different circumstances, would have made a +good general--possibly a great one; his strange life had made him a +financier of a type singular and wholly different from that of the men +with whom he had to deal. He never sought to gain an advantage by a +deception, but he won everything by superior foresight, imperturbable +coolness, matchless rapidity of action and undaunted courage under all +circumstances. It needs higher qualities to be a good man, but no others +are needed to make a successful one. Orsino possessed something of the +same rapidity and much of a similar coolness and courage, but he lacked +the foresight. It was vanity, of the most pardonable kind, indeed, but +vanity nevertheless which had led him to embark upon his dangerous +enterprise--not in the determination to accomplish for the sake of +accomplishing, still less in the direct desire for wealth as an ultimate +object, but in the almost boyish longing to show to his own people that +there was more in him than they suspected. The gift of foresight is +generally weakened by the presence of vanity, but when vanity takes its +place the result is as likely to be failure as not, and depends almost +directly upon chance alone. + +The crisis in Orsino's life was at hand, and what has here been finally +said of his position at that time seemed necessary, as summing up the +consequences to him of more than two years' unremitting labour, during +which he had become involved in affairs of enormous consequence at an +age when most young men are spending their time, more profitably perhaps +and certainly more agreeably, in such pleasures and pursuits as mother +society provides for her half-fledged nestlings. + +On the day before his final interview with Del Ferice Orsino wrote a +lengthy letter to Maria Consuelo. As she did not receive it until long +afterwards it is quite unnecessary to give any account of its contents. +Some time had passed since he had heard from her and he was not sure +whether or not she were still in Egypt. But he wrote to her, +nevertheless, drawing much fictitious comfort and little real advantage +from the last clear statement of his difficulties. By this time, writing +to her had become a habit and he resorted to it naturally when over +wearied by work and anxiety. + +On this same day also he had spent several hours in talking over the +situation with Contini. The architect, strange to say, was more +reconciled with his position than he had formerly been. He, at least, +received a certain substantial remuneration. He, at least, loved his +profession and rejoiced in the handling of great masses of brick and +stone. He, too, was rapidly making a reputation and a name for himself, +and, if business improved, was not prevented from entering into other +enterprises besides the one in which he found himself so deeply +interested. As a member of the firm, he could not free himself. As an +architect, he could have an architect's office of his own and build for +any one who chose to employ him. For his own part, he said, he might +perhaps be more profitably employed upon less important work; but then, +he might not, for business was very bad. The great works in which Del +Ferice kept him engaged had the incalculable advantage of bringing him +constantly before the public as an architect and of keeping his name, +which was the name of the firm, continually in the notice of all men of +business. He was deeply indebted to Orsino for the generous help given +when the realities of profit were so greatly at variance with the +appearances of prosperity. He would always regard repayment of the money +so advanced to him as a debt of honour and he hoped to live long enough +to extinguish it. He sympathised with Orsino in his desire to be freer +and more independent, but reminded him that when the day of liberation +came, he would not regret the comparatively short apprenticeship during +which he had acquired so great a mastery of business. Business, he said, +had been Orsino's ambition from the beginning, and business he had, in +plenty, if not with profit. For his own part, he was satisfied. + +Orsino felt that his partner could not be blamed, and he felt, too, that +he would be doing Contini a great injury in involving him in a failure. +But he regretted the time when their interests had coincided and they +had cursed Del Ferice in common and with a good will. There was nothing +to be done but to submit. He knew well enough what awaited him. + +On the following morning, by appointment, he went with a heavy heart to +meet Del Ferice at the bank. The latter had always preferred to see +Orsino without Contini when a new contract was to be discussed. As a +personal acquaintance he treated with Orsino on a footing of social +equality, and the balance of outwardly agreeable relations would have +been disturbed by the presence of a social inferior. Moreover, Del +Ferice knew the Saracinesca people tolerably well, and though not so +timid as many people supposed, he somewhat dreaded a sudden outbreak of +the hereditary temper; if such a manifestation really took place, it +would be more agreeable that there should be no witnesses of it. + +Orsino was surprised to find that Ugo was out of town. Having made an +appointment, he ought at least to have sent word to the Palazzo +Saracinesca of his departure. He had indeed left a message for Orsino, +which was correctly delivered, to the effect that he would return in +twenty-four hours, and requesting him to postpone the interview until +the following afternoon. In Orsino's humour this was not altogether +pleasant. The young man felt little suspense indeed, for he knew how +matters must turn out, and that he should be saddled with another +contract. But he found it hard to wait with equanimity, now that he had +made up his mind to the worst, and he resented Del Ferice's rudeness in +not giving a civil warning of his intended journey. + +The day passed somehow, at last, and towards evening Orsino received a +telegram from Ugo, full of excuses, but begging to put off the meeting +two days longer. The dispatch was from Naples whither Del Ferice often +went on business. + +It was almost unbearable and yet it must be borne. Orsino spent his time +in roaming about the less frequented parts of the city, trying to make +new plans for the future which was already planned for him, doing his +best to follow out a distinct line of thought, if only to distract his +own attention. He could not even write to Maria Consuelo, for he felt +that he had said all there was to be said, in his last long letter. + +On the morning of the fourth day he went to the bank again. Del Ferice +was there and greeted him warmly, interweaving his phrases with excuses +for his absence. + +"You will forgive me, I am sure," he said, "though I have put you to +very great inconvenience. The case was urgent and I could not leave it +in the hands of others. Of course you could have settled the business +with another of the directors, but I think--indeed, I know--that you +prefer only to see me in these matters. We have worked together so long +now, that we understand each other with half a word. Really, I am very +sorry to have kept you waiting so long!" + +"It is of no importance," answered Orsino coolly. "Pray do not speak of +it." + +"Of importance--no--perhaps not. That is, as you could not lose by it, +it was not of financial importance. But when I have made an engagement, +I like to keep it. In business, so much depends upon keeping small +engagements--and they may mean quite as much in the relations of +society. However, as you are so kind, we will not speak of it again. I +have made my excuses and you have accepted them. Let that end the +matter. To business, now, Don Orsino--to business!" + +Orsino fancied that Del Ferice's manner was not quite natural. He was +generally more quiet. His rather watery blue eyes did not usually look +so wide awake, his fat white hands were not commonly so active in their +gestures. Altogether he seemed more nervous, and at the same time better +pleased with himself and with life than usual. Orsino wondered what had +happened. He had perhaps made some very successful stroke in his +affairs during the three days he had spent in Naples. + +"So let us now have a look into your contracts, Don Orsino," he said. +"Or rather, look into the state of the account yourself if you wish to +do so, for I have already examined it." + +"I am familiar enough with the details," answered the young man. "I do +not need to look over everything. The books have been audited as you +see. The only thing left to be done is to hand over the work to you, +since it is executed according to the contract. You doubtless remember +that verbal part of the agreement. You receive the buildings as they now +stand and our credit cash if there is any, in full discharge of all the +obligations of Andrea Contini and Company to the bank--acceptances +coming due, balance of account if in debit, and mortgages on land and +houses--and we are quits again, my firm being discharged of all +obligation." + +Del Ferice's expression changed a little and became more grave. + +"Doubtless," he answered, "there was a tacit understanding to that +effect. Yes--yes--I remember. Indeed it was not altogether tacit. A word +was said about it, and a word is as good as a contract. Very well, Don +Orsino--very well. Since you desire it, we will cry quits again. This +kind of business is not very profitable to the bank--not very--but it is +not actual loss." + +"It is not profitable to us," observed Orsino. "If you do not wish any +more of it, we do not." + +"Really?" + +Del Ferice looked at him rather curiously as though wishing that he +would say more. Orsino met his glance steadily, expecting to be informed +of the nature of the next contract to be forced upon him. + +"So you really prefer to discontinue these operations--if I may call +them so," said Del Ferice thoughtfully. "It is strange that you should, +I confess. I remember that you much desired to take a part in affairs, +to be an actor in the interesting doings of the day, to be a financial +personage, in short. You have had your wish, Don Orsino. Your firm plays +an important part in Rome. Do you remember our first interview on the +steps of Monte Citorio? You asked me whether I could and would help you +to enter business. I promised that I would, and I have kept my word. The +sums mentioned in those papers, here, show that I have done all I +promised. You told me that you had fifteen thousand francs at your +disposal. From that small beginning I have shown you how to deal with +millions. But you do not seem to care for business, after all, Don +Orsino. You really do not seem to care for it, though I must confess +that you have a remarkable talent. It is very strange." + +"Is it?" asked Orsino with a shade of contempt. "You may remember that +my business has not been profitable, in spite of what you call my +talent, and in spite of what I know to have been hard work." + +Del Ferice smiled softly. + +"That is quite another matter," he answered. "If you had asked me +whether you could make a fortune at this time, I would have told you +that it was quite impossible without enormous capital. Quite impossible. +Understand that, if you please. But, negatively, you have profited, +because others have failed--hundreds of firms and contractors--while you +have lost but the paltry fifteen thousand or so with which you began. +And you have acquired great knowledge and experience. Therefore, on the +whole, you have been the gainer. In balancing an account one takes but +the sordid debit and credit and compares them--but in estimating the +value of a firm one should consider its reputation and the goodwill it +has created. The name of Andrea Contini and Company is a power in Rome. +That is the result of your work, and it is not a loss." + +Orsino said nothing, but leaned back in his chair, gloomily staring at +the wall. He wondered when Del Ferice would come to the point, and begin +to talk about the new contract. + +"You do not seem to agree with me," observed Ugo in an injured tone. + +"Not altogether, I confess," replied the young man with a contemptuous +laugh. + +"Well, well--it is no matter--it is of no importance--of no consequence +whatever," said Del Fence, who seemed inclined to repeat himself and to +lengthen, his phrases as though he wished to gain time. "Only this, Don +Orsino. I would remind you that you have just executed a piece of work +successfully, which no other firm in Rome could have carried out without +failure, under the present depression. It seems to me that you have +every reason to congratulate yourself. Of course, it was impossible for +me to understand that you really cared for a large profit--for actual +money--" + +"And I do not," interrupted Orsino with more warmth than he had hitherto +shown. + +"But, in that case, you ought to be more than satisfied," objected Ugo +suavely. + +Orsino grew impatient at last and spoke out frankly. + +"I cannot be satisfied with a position of absolute dependence, from +which I cannot escape except by bankruptcy. You know that I am +completely in your power. You know very well that while you are talking +to me now you contemplate making your usual condition before crying +quits, as you express it. You intend to impose another and probably a +larger piece of work on me, which I shall be obliged to undertake on the +same terms as before, because if I do not accept it, it is in your power +to ruin me at once. And this state of things may go on for years. That +is the enviable position of Andrea Contini and Company." + +Del Ferice assumed an air of injured dignity. + +"If you think anything of this kind you greatly misjudge me," he said. + +"I do not see why I should judge otherwise," retorted Orsino. "That is +exactly what took place on the last occasion, and what will take place +now--" + +"I think not," said Del Ferice very quietly, and watching him. + +Orsino was somewhat startled by the words, but his face betrayed +nothing. It was clear to him that Ugo had something new to propose, and +it was not easy to guess the nature of the coming proposition. + +"Will you kindly explain yourself?" he asked. + +"My dear Don Orsino, there is nothing to explain," replied Del Ferice +again becoming very bland. + +"I do not understand." + +"No? It is very simple. You have finished the buildings. The bank will +take them over and consider the account closed. You stated the position +yourself in the most precise terms. I do not see why you should suppose +that the bank wishes to impose anything upon you which you are not +inclined to accept. I really do not see why you should think anything of +the kind." + +In the dead silence which followed Orsino could hear his own heart +beating loudly. He wondered whether he had heard aright. He wondered +whether this were not some new manoeuvre on Del Ferice's part by which +he must ultimately fall still more completely under the banker's +domination. Ugo doubtless meant to qualify what he had just said by +adding a clause. Orsino waited for what was to follow. + +"Am I to understand that this does not suit your wishes?" inquired Ugo, +presently. + +"On the contrary, it would suit me perfectly," answered Orsino +controlling his voice with some difficulty. + +"In that case, there is nothing more to be said," observed Del Ferice. +"The bank will give you a formal release--indeed, I think the notary is +at this moment here. I am very glad to be able to meet your views, Don +Orsino. Very glad, I am sure. It is always pleasant to find that +amicable relations have been preserved after a long and somewhat +complicated business connexion. The bank owes it to you, I am sure--" + +"I am quite willing to owe that to the bank," answered Orsino with a +ready smile. He was almost beside himself with joy. + +"You are very good, I assure you," said Del Ferice, with much +politeness. He touched a bell and his confidential clerk appeared. + +"Cancel these drafts," he said, giving the man a small bundle of bills. +"Direct the notary to prepare a deed of sale, transferring all this +property, as was done before--" he hesitated. "I will see him myself in +ten minutes," he added. "It will be simpler. The account of Andrea +Contini is balanced and closed. Make out a preliminary receipt for all +dues whatsoever and bring it to me." + +The clerk stared for one moment as though he believed that Del Ferice +were mad. Then he went out. + +"I am sorry to lose you, Don Orsino," said Del Ferice, thoughtfully +rolling his big silver pencil case on the table. "All the legal papers +will be ready to-morrow afternoon." + +"Pray express to the directors my best thanks for so speedily winding up +the business," answered Orsino. "I think that, after all, I have no +great talent for affairs." + +"On the contrary, on the contrary," protested Ugo. "I have a great deal +to say against that statement." And he eulogised Orsino's gifts almost +without pausing for breath until the clerk returned with the preliminary +receipt. Del Ferice signed it and handed it to Orsino with a smile. + +"This was unnecessary," said the young man. "I could have waited until +to-morrow." + +"A matter of conscience, dear Don Orsino--nothing more." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + + +Orsino was free at last. The whole matter was incomprehensible to him, +and almost mysterious, so that after he had at last received his legal +release he spent his time in trying to discover the motives of Del +Ferice's conduct. The simplest explanation seemed to be that Ugo had not +derived as much profit from the last contract as he had hoped for, +though it had been enough to justify him in keeping his informal +engagement with Contini and Company, and that he feared a new and +unfavourable change in business which made any further speculations of +the kind dangerous. For some time Orsino believed this to have been the +case, but events proved that he was mistaken. He dissolved his +partnership with Contini, but Andrea Contini and Company still continued +to exist. The new partner was no less a personage than Del Ferice +himself, who was constantly represented in the firm by the confidential +clerk who has been more than once mentioned in this history, and who was +a friend of Contini's. What terms Contini made for himself, Orsino never +knew, but it is certain that the architect prospered from that time and +is still prosperous. + +Late in the spring of that year 1890 Roman society was considerably +surprised by the news of a most unexpected marriage. The engagement had +been carefully kept a secret, the banns had been published in Palermo, +the civil and religious ceremonies had taken place there, and the happy +couple had already reached Paris before either of them thought of +informing their friends and before any notice of the event appeared in +the papers. Even then, society felt itself aggrieved by the laconic form +in which the information was communicated. + +The statement, indeed, left nothing to be desired on the score of +plainness or conciseness of style. Count Del Ferice had married Maria +Consuelo d'Aranjuez d'Aragona. + +Two persons only received the intelligence a few days before it was +generally made known. One was Orsino and the other was Spicca. The +letters were characteristic and may be worth reproducing. + + + "MY FATHER" (Maria Consuelo wrote)--"I am married to Count Del + Ferice, with whom I think that you are acquainted. There is no + reason why I should enter into any explanation of my reasons for + taking this step. There are plenty which everybody can see. My + husband's present position and great wealth make him what the world + calls a good match, and my fortune places me above the suspicion of + having married him for his money. If his birth was not originally + of the highest, it was at least as good as mine, and society will + say that the marriage was appropriate in all its circumstances. You + are aware that I could not be married without informing my husband + and the municipal authorities of my parentage, by presenting copies + of the registers in Nice. Count Del Ferice was good enough to + overlook some little peculiarity in the relation between the dates + of my birth and your marriage. We will therefore say no more about + the matter. The object of this letter is to let you know that those + facts have been communicated to several persons, as a matter of + necessity. I do not expect you to congratulate me. I congratulate + myself, however, with all my heart. Within two years I have freed + myself from my worthy mother, I have placed myself beyond your + power to injure me, and I have escaped ruining a man I loved by + marrying him. I have laid the foundations of peace if not of + happiness. + + "The Princess is very ill but hopes to reach Normandy before the + summer begins. My husband will be obliged to be often in Rome but + will come to me from time to time, as I cannot leave the Princess + at present. She is trying, however, to select among her + acquaintance another lady in waiting--the more willingly as she is + not pleased with my marriage. Is that a satisfaction to you? I + expect to spend the winter in Rome. + + "MARIA CONSUELO DEL FERICE." + +This was the letter by which Maria Consuelo announced her marriage to +the father whom she so sincerely hated. For cruelty of language and +expression it was not to be compared with the one she had written to +him after parting with Orsino. But had she known how the news she now +conveyed would affect the old man who was to learn it, her heart might +have softened a little towards him, even after all she had suffered. +Very different were the lines Orsino received from her at the same time. + + + "My dear Friend--When you read this letter, which I write on the + eve of my marriage, but shall not send till some days have passed, + you must think of me as the wife of Ugo Del Ferice. To-night, I am + still Maria Consuelo. I have something to say to you, and you must + read it patiently, for I shall never say it again--and after all, + it will not be much. Is it right of me to say it? I do not know. + Until to-morrow I have still time to refuse to be married. + Therefore I am still a free agent, and entitled to think freely. + After to-morrow it will be different. + + "I wish, dear, that I could tell you all the truth. Perhaps you + would not be ashamed of having loved the daughter of Lucrezia + Ferris. But I cannot tell you all. There are reasons why you had + better never know it. But I will tell you this, for I must say it + once. I love you very dearly. I loved you long ago, I loved you + when I left you in Rome, I have loved you ever since, and I am + afraid that I shall love you until I die. + + "It is not foolish of me to write the words, though it may be + wrong. If I love you, it is because I know you. We shall meet + before long, and then meet, perhaps, hundreds of times, and more, + for I am to live in Rome. I know that you will be all you should + be, or I would not speak now as I never spoke before, at the moment + when I am raising an impassable barrier between us by my own free + will. If you ever loved me--and you did--you will respect that + barrier in deed and word, and even in thought. You will remember + only that I loved you with all my heart on the day before my + marriage. You will forget even to think that I may love you still + to-morrow, and think tenderly of you on the day after that. + + "You are free now, dear, and can begin your real life. How do I + know it? Del Ferice has told me that he has released you--for we + sometimes speak of you. He has even shown me a copy of the legal + act of release, which he chanced to find among the papers he had + brought. An accident, perhaps. Or, perhaps he knows that I loved + you. I do not care--I had a right to, then. + + "So you are quite free. I like to think that you have come out of + all your troubles quite unscathed, young, your name untarnished, + your hands clean. I am glad that you answered the letter I wrote to + you from Egypt and told me all, and wrote so often afterwards. I + could not do much beyond give you my sympathy, and I gave it + all--to the uttermost. You will not need any more of it. You are + free now, thank God! + + "If you think of me, wish me peace, dear--I do not ask for anything + nearer to happiness than that. But I wish you many things, the + least of which should make you happy. Most of all, I wish that you + may some day love well and truly, and win the reality of which you + once thought you held the shadow. Can I say more than that? No + loving woman can. + + "And so, good-bye--good-bye, love of all my life, good-bye dear, + dear Orsino--I think this is the hardest good-bye of all--when we + are to meet so soon. I cannot write any more. Once again, the + last--the very last time, for ever--I love you. + + "MARIA CONSUELO." + +A strange sensation came over Orsino as he read this letter. He was not +able at first to realise much beyond the fact that Maria Consuelo was +actually married to Del Ferice--a match than which none imaginable could +have been more unexpected. But he felt that there was more behind the +facts than he was able to grasp, almost more than he dared to guess at. +A mysterious horror filled his mind as he read and reread the lines. +There was no doubting the sincerity of what she said. He doubted the +survival of his own love much more. She could have no reason whatever +for writing as she did, on the eve of her marriage, no reason beyond the +irresistible desire to speak out all her heart once only and for the +last time. Again and again he went over the passages which struck him as +most strange. Then the truth flashed upon him. Maria Consuelo had sold +herself to free him from his difficulties, to save him from the terrible +alternatives of either wasting his life as Del Ferice's slave or of +ruining his family. + +With a smothered exclamation, between an oath and a groan of pain, +Orsino threw himself upon the divan and buried his face in his hands. +It is kinder to leave him there for a time, alone. + +Poor Spicca broke down under this last blow. In vain old Santi got out +the cordial from the press in the corner, and did his best to bring his +master back to his natural self. In vain Spicca roused himself, forced +himself to eat, went out, walked his hour, dragging his feet after him, +and attempted to exchange a word with his friends at the club. He seemed +to have got his death wound. His head sank lower on his breast, his long +emaciated frame stooped more and more, the thin hands grew daily more +colourless, and the deathly face daily more deathly pale. Days passed +away, and weeks, and it was early June. He no longer tried to go out. +Santi tried to prevail upon him to take a little air in a cab, on the +Via Appia. It would be money well spent, he said, apologising for +suggesting such extravagance. Spicca shook his head, and kept to his +chair by the open window. Then, on a certain morning, he was worse and +had not the strength to rise from his bed. + +On that very morning a telegram came. He looked at it as though hardly +understanding what he should do, as Santi held it before him. Then he +opened it. His fingers did not tremble even now. The iron nerve of the +great swordsman survived still. + +"Ventnor--Rome. Count Spicca. The Princess is dead. I know the truth at +last. God forgive me and bless you. I come to you at once.--Maria +Consuelo." + +Spicca read the few words printed on the white strip that was pasted to +the yellow paper. Then his hands sank to his sides and he closed his +eyes. Santi thought it was the end, and burst into tears as he fell to +his knees by the bed. + +Half an hour passed. Then Spicca raised his head, and made a gesture +with his hand. + +"Do not be a fool, Santi, I am not dead yet," he said, with kindly +impatience. "Get up and send for Don Orsino Saracinesca, if he is still +in Rome." + +Santi left the room, drying his eyes and uttering incoherent +exclamations of astonishment mingled with a singular cross fire of +praise and prayer directed to the Saints and of imprecations upon +himself for his own stupidity. + +Before noon Orsino appeared. He was gaunt and pale, and more like San +Giacinto than ever. There was a settled hardness in his face which was +never again to disappear permanently. But he was horror-struck by +Spicca's appearance. He had no idea that a man already so cadaverous +could still change as the old man had changed. Spicca seemed little more +than a grey shadow barely resting upon the white bed. He put the +telegram into Orsino's hands. The young man read it twice and his face +expressed his astonishment. Spicca smiled faintly, as he watched him. + +"What does it mean?" asked Orsino. "Of what truth does she speak? She +hated you, and now, all at once, she loves you. I do not understand." + +"How should you?" The old man spoke in a clear, thin voice, very unlike +his own. "You could not understand. But before I die, I will tell you." + +"Do not talk of dying--" + +"No. It is not necessary. I realise it enough, and you need not realise +it at all. I have not much to tell you, but a little truth will +sometimes destroy many falsehoods. You remember the story about Lucrezia +Ferris? Maria Consuelo wrote it to you." + +"Remember it! Could I forget it?" + +"You may as well. There is not a word of truth in it. Lucrezia Ferris is +not her mother." + +"Not her mother!" + +"No. I only wonder how you could ever have believed that a Piedmontese +nurse could be the mother of Maria Consuelo. Nor am I Maria Consuelo's +father. Perhaps that will not surprise you so much. She does not +resemble me, thank Heaven!" + +"What is she then? Who is she?" asked Orsino impatiently. + +"To tell you that I must tell you the story. When I was young--very long +before you were born--I travelled much, and I was well received. I was +rich and of good family. At a certain court in Europe--I was at one time +in the diplomacy--I loved a lady whom I could not have married, even had +she been free. Her station was far above mine. She was also considerably +older than I, and she paid very little attention to me, I confess. But I +loved her. She is just dead. She was that princess mentioned in this +telegram. Do you understand? Do you hear me? My voice is weak." + +"Perfectly. Pray go on." + +"Maria Consuelo is her grandchild--the granddaughter of the only woman I +ever loved. Understand that, too. It happened in this way. My Princess +had but one daughter, the Princess Marie, a mere child when I first saw +her--not more than fourteen years old. We were all in Nice, one winter +thirty years ago--some four years after I had first met the Princess. I +travelled in order to see her, and she was always kind to me, though she +did not love me. Perhaps I was useful, too, before that. People were +always afraid of me, because I could handle the foils. It was thirty +years ago, and the Princess Marie was eighteen. Poor child!" + +Spicca paused a moment, and passed his transparent hand over his eyes. + +"I think I understand," said Orsino. + +"No you do not," answered Spicca, with unexpected sharpness. "You will +not understand, until I have told you everything. The Princess Marie +fell ill, or pretended to fall ill while we were at Nice. But she could +not conceal the truth long--at least not from her mother. She had +already taken into her confidence a little Piedmontese maid, scarcely +older than herself--a certain Lucrezia Ferris--and she allowed no other +woman to come near her. Then she told her mother the truth. She loved a +man of her own rank and not much older--not yet of age, in fact. +Unfortunately, as happens with such people, a marriage was +diplomatically impossible. He was not of her nationality and the +relations were strained. But she had married him nevertheless, secretly +and, as it turned out, without any legal formalities. It is questionable +whether the marriage, even then, could have been proved to be valid, for +she was a Catholic and he was not, and a Catholic priest had married +them without proper authorisation or dispensation. But they were both in +earnest, both young and both foolish. The husband--his name is of no +importance--was very far away at the time we were in Nice, and was quite +unable to come to her. She was about to be a mother and she turned to +her own mother in her extremity, with a full confession of the truth." + +"I see," said Orsino. "And you adopted--" + +"You do not see yet. The Princess came to me for advice. The situation +was an extremely delicate one from all points of view. To declare the +marriage at that moment might have produced extraordinary complications, +for the countries to which, the two young people belonged were on the +verge of a war which was only retarded by the extraordinary genius of +one man. To conceal it seemed equally dangerous, if not more so. The +Princess Marie's reputation was at stake--the reputation of a young +girl, as people supposed her to be, remember that. Various schemes +suggested themselves. I cannot tell what would have been done, for fate +decided the matter--tragically, as fate does. The young husband was +killed while on a shooting expedition--at least so it was stated. I +always believed that he shot himself. It was all very mysterious. We +could not keep the news from the Princess Marie. That night Maria +Consuelo was born. On the next day, her mother died. The shock had +killed her. The secret was now known to the old Princess, to me, to +Lucrezia Ferris and to the French doctor--a man of great skill and +discretion. Maria Consuelo was the nameless orphan child of an +unacknowledged marriage--of a marriage which was certainly not legal, +and which the Church must hesitate to ratify. Again we saw that the +complications, diplomatic and of other kinds, which would arise if the +truth were published, would be enormous. The Prince himself was not yet +in Nice and was quite ignorant of the true cause of his daughter's +sudden death. But he would arrive in forty-eight hours, and it was +necessary to decide upon some course. We could rely upon the doctor and +upon our two selves--the Princess and I. Lucrezia Ferris seemed to be a +sensible, quiet girl, and she certainly proved to be discreet for a long +time. The Princess was distracted with grief and beside herself with +anxiety. Remember that I loved her--that explains what I did. I proposed +the plan which was carried out and with which you are acquainted. I took +the child, declared it to be mine, and married Lucrezia. The only legal +documents in existence concerning Maria Consuelo prove her to be my +daughter. The priest who had married the poor Princess Marie could never +be found. Terrified, perhaps, at what he had done, he +disappeared--probably as a monk in an Austrian monastery. I hunted him +for years. Lucrezia Ferris was discreet for two reasons. She received a +large sum of money, and a large allowance afterwards, and later on it +appears that she further enriched herself at Maria Consuelo's expense. +Avarice was her chief fault, and by it we held her. Secondly, however, +she was well aware, and knows to-day, that no one would believe her +story if she told the truth. The proofs are all positive and legal for +Maria Consuelo's supposed parentage, and there is not a trace of +evidence in favour of the truth. You know the story now. I am glad I +have been able to tell it to you. I will rest now, for I am very tired. +If I am alive to-morrow, come and see me--good-bye, in case you should +not find me." + +Orsino pressed the wasted hand and went out silently, more affected than +he owned by the dying man's words and looks. It was a painful story of +well-meant mistakes, he thought, and it explained many things which he +had not understood. Linking it with all he knew besides, he had the +whole history of Spicca's mysterious, broken life, together with the +explanation of some points in his own which had never been clear to him. +The old cynic of a duellist had been a man of heart, after all, and had +sacrificed his whole existence to keep a secret for a woman whom he +loved but who did not care for him. That was all. She was dead and he +was dying. The secret was already half buried in the past. If it were +told now, no one would believe it. + +Orsino returned on the following day. He had sent for news several +times, and was told that Spicca still lingered. He saw him again but the +old man seemed very weak and only spoke a few words during the hour +Orsino spent with him. The doctor had said that he might possibly live, +but that there was not much hope. + +And again on the next day Orsino came back. He started as he entered the +room. An old Franciscan, a Minorite, was by the bedside, speaking in low +tones. Orsino made as though he would withdraw, but Spicca feebly +beckoned to him to stay, and the monk rose. + +"Good-bye," whispered Spicca, following him with his sunken eyes. + +Orsino led the Franciscan out. At the outer door the latter turned to +Orsino with a strange look and laid a hand upon his arm. + +"Who are you, my son?" he asked. + +"Orsino Saracinesca." + +"A friend of his?" + +"Yes." + +"He has done terrible things in his long life. But he has done noble +things, too, and has suffered much, and in silence. He has earned his +rest, and God will forgive him." + +The monk bowed his head and went out. Orsino re-entered the room and +took the vacant chair beside the bed. He touched Spicca's hand almost +affectionately, but the latter withdrew it with an effort. He had never +liked sympathy, and liked it least when another would have needed it +most. For a considerable time neither spoke. The pale hand lay +peacefully upon the pillows, the long, shadowy frame was wrapped in a +gown of dark woollen material. + +"Do you think she will come to-day?" asked the old man at length. + +"She may come to-day--I hope so," Orsino answered. + +A long pause followed. + +"I hope so, too," Spicca whispered. "I have not much strength left. I +cannot wait much longer." + +Again there was silence. Orsino knew that there was nothing to be said, +nothing at least which he could say, to cheer the last hours of the +lonely life. But Spicca seemed contented that he should sit there. + +"Give me that photograph," he said, suddenly, a quarter of an hour +later. + +Orsino looked about him but could not see what Spicca wanted. + +"Hers," said the feeble voice, "in the next room." + +It was the photograph in the little chiselled frame--the same frame +which had once excited Donna Tullia's scorn. Orsino brought it quickly +from its place over the chimney-piece, and held it before his friend's +eyes. Spicca gazed at it a long time in silence. + +"Take it away," he said, at last. "It is not like her." + +Orsino put it aside and sat down again. Presently Spicca turned a little +on the pillow and looked at him. + +"Do you remember that I once said I wished you might marry her?" he +asked. + +"Yes." + +"It was quite true. You understand now? I could not tell you then." + +"Yes. I understand everything now." + +"But I am sorry I said it." + +"Why?" "Perhaps it influenced you and has hurt your life. I am sorry. +You must forgive me." + +"For Heaven's sake, do not distress yourself about such trifles," said +Orsino, earnestly. "There is nothing to forgive." + +"Thank you." + +Orsino looked at him, pondering on the peaceful ending of the strange +life, and wondering what manner of heart and soul the man had really +lived with. With the intuition which sometimes comes to dying persons, +Spicca understood, though it was long before he spoke again. There was a +faint touch of his old manner in his words. + +"I am an awful example, Orsino," he said, with the ghost of a smile. "Do +not imitate me. Do not sacrifice your life for the love of any woman. +Try and appreciate sacrifices in others." + +The smile died away again. + +"And yet I am glad I did it," he added, a moment later. "Perhaps it was +all a mistake--but I did my best." + +"You did indeed," Orsino answered gravely. + +He meant what he said, though he felt that it had indeed been all a +mistake, as Spicca suggested. The young face was very thoughtful. Spicca +little knew how hard his last cynicism hit the man beside him, for whose +freedom and safety the woman of whom Spicca was thinking had sacrificed +so very much. He would die without knowing that. + +The door opened softly and a woman's light footstep was on the +threshold. Maria Consuelo came silently and swiftly forward with +outstretched hands that had clasped the dying man's almost before Orsino +realised that it was she herself. She fell on her knees beside the bed +and pressed the powerless cold fingers to her forehead. + +Spicca started and for one moment raised his head from the pillow. It +fell back almost instantly. A look of supreme happiness flashed over +the deathly features, followed by an expression of pain. + +"Why did you marry him?" he asked in tones so loud that Orsino started, +and Maria Consuelo looked up with streaming eyes. + +She did not answer, but tried to soothe him, rising and caressing his +hand, and smoothing his pillows. + +"Tell me why you married him!" he cried again. "I am dying--I must +know!" + +She bent down very low and whispered into his ear. He shook his head +impatiently. + +"Louder! I cannot hear! Louder!" + +Again she whispered, more distinctly this time, and casting an imploring +glance at Orsino, who was too much disturbed to understand. + +"Louder!" gasped the dying man, struggling to sit up. "Louder! O my God! +I shall die without hearing you--without knowing--" + +It would have been inhuman to torture the departing soul any longer. +Then Maria Consuelo made her last sacrifice. She spoke in calm, clear +tones. + +"I married to save the man I loved." + +Spicca's expression changed. For fully twenty seconds his sunken eyes +remained fixed, gazing into hers. Then the light began to flash in them +for the last time, keen as the lightning. + +"God have mercy on you! God reward you!" he cried. + +The shadowy figure quivered throughout its length, was still, then +quivered again, then sprang up suddenly with a leap, and Spicca was +standing on the floor, clasping Maria Consuelo in his arms. All at once +there was colour in his face and the fire grew bright in his glance. + +"Oh, my darling, I have loved you so!" he cried. + +He almost lifted her from the ground as he pressed his lips passionately +upon her forehead. His long thin hands relaxed suddenly, and the light +broke in his eyes as when a mirror is shivered by a blow. For an instant +that seemed an age, he stood upright, dead already, and then fell back +all his length across the bed with wide extended arms. + +There was a short, sharp sob, and then a sound of passionate weeping +filled the silent room. Strongly and tenderly Orsino laid his dead +friend upon the couch as he had lain alive but two minutes earlier. He +crossed the hands upon the breast and gently closed the staring eyes. He +could not have had Maria Consuelo see him as he had fallen, when she +next looked up. + +A little later they stood side by side, gazing at the calm dead face, in +a long silence. How long they stood, they never knew, for their hearts +were very full. The sun was going down and the evening light filled the +room. + +"Did he tell you, before he died--about me?" asked Maria Consuelo in a +low voice. + +"Yes. He told me everything." + +Maria Consuelo went forward and bent over the face and kissed the white +forehead, and made the sign of the Cross upon it. Then she turned and +took Orsino's hand in hers. + +"I could not help your hearing what I said, Orsino. He was dying, you +see. You know all, now." + +Orsino's fingers pressed hers desperately. For a moment he could not +speak. Then the agonised words came with a great effort, harshly but +ringing from the heart. + +"And I can give you nothing!" + +He covered his face and turned away. + +"Give me your friendship, dear--I never had your love," she said. + +It was long before they talked together again. + +This is what I know of young Orsino Saracinesca's life up to the present +time. Maria Consuelo, Countess Del Ferice, was right. She never had his +love as he had hers. Perhaps the power of loving so is not in him. He +is, after all, more like San Giacinto than any other member of the +family, cold, perhaps, and hard by nature. But these things which I have +described have made a man of him at an age when many men are but boys, +and he has learnt what many never learn at all--that there is more true +devotion to be found in the world than most people will acknowledge. He +may some day be heard of. He may some day fall under the great passion. +Or he may never love at all and may never distinguish himself any more +than his father has done. One or the other may happen, but not both, in +all probability. The very greatest passion is rarely compatible with the +very greatest success except in extraordinary good or bad natures. And +Orsino Saracinesca is not extraordinary in any way. His character has +been formed by the unusual circumstances in which he was placed when +very young, rather than by anything like the self-development which we +hear of in the lives of great men. From a somewhat foolish and +affectedly cynical youth he has grown into a decidedly hard and +cool-headed man. He is very much seen in society but talks little on the +whole. If, hereafter, there should be anything in his life worth +recording, another hand than mine may write it down for future readers. + +If any one cares to ask why I have thought it worth the trouble to +describe his early years so minutely, I answer that the young man of the +Transition Period interests me. Perhaps I am singular in that. Orsino +Saracinesca is a fair type, I think, of his class at his age. I have +done my best to be just to him. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Don Orsino, by F. 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