erson in the place of Guidascarpi! I
do not object."

Count Lenkenstein withdrew his wife and sisters from Sonnenberg
instantly. He sent an angry message of adieu to the duchess, informing
her that he alone was responsible for the behaviour of the ladies of his
family. The poor duchess wept. "This means that I shall be summoned to
Vienna for a scolding, and have to meet my husband," she said to Laura,
who permitted herself to be fondled, and barely veiled her exultation in
her apology for the mischief she had done. An hour after the departure of
the Lenkensteins, the castle was again officially visited by Colonel
Zofel. Vittoria and Laura received an order to quit the district of Meran
before sunset. The two firebrands dropped no tears. "I really am sorry
for others when I succeed," said Laura, trying to look sad upon her
friend.

"No; the heart is eaten out of you both by excitement," said the duchess.

Her tender parting, "Love me," in the ear of Vittoria, melted one heart
of the two.

Count Serabiglione continued to be buoyed up by his own and his
daughter's recent display of a superior intellectual dexterity until the
carriage was at the door and Laura presented her cheek to him. He said,
"You will know me a wise man when I am off the table." His gesticulations
expressed "Ruin, headlong ruin!" He asked her how she could expect him to
be for ever repairing her follies. He was going to Vienna; how could he
dare to mention her name there? Not even in a trifle would she consent to
be subordinate to authority. Laura checked her replies--the surrendering,
of a noble Italian life to the Austrians was such a trifle! She begged
only that a poor wanderer might depart with a father's blessing. The
count refused to give it; he waved her off in a fury of reproof; and so
got smoothly over the fatal moment when money, or the promise of money,
is commonly extracted from parental sources, as Laura explained his odd
behaviour to her companion. The carriage-door being closed, he regained
his courtly composure; his fury was displaced by a chiding finger, which
he presently kissed. Father. Bernardus was on the steps beside the
duchess, and his blessing had not been withheld from Vittoria, though he
half confessed to her that she was a mystery in his mind, and would
always be one.

"He can understand robust hostility," Laura said, when Vittoria recalled
the look of his benevolent forehead and drooping eyelids; "but robust
ductility