m, slowly approaching with
mournful faces, then kneeling and praying for a few minutes, and
afterwards retiring with the same mute, desolate mien. A pang came to
Pierre's heart when he saw Dario's mother, the ever beautiful Flavia,
enter, accompanied by her husband, the handsome Jules Laporte, that
ex-sergeant of the Swiss Guard whom she had turned into a Marquis
Montefiori. Warned of the tragedy directly it had happened, she had
already come to the mansion on the previous evening; but now she returned
in grand ceremony and full mourning, looking superb in her black garments
which were well suited to her massive, Juno-like style of beauty. When
she had approached the bed with a queenly step, she remained for a moment
standing with two tears at the edges of her eyelids, tears which did not
fall. Then, at the moment of kneeling, she made sure that Jules was
beside her, and glanced at him as if to order him to kneel as well. They
both sank down beside the platform and remained in prayer for the proper
interval, she very dignified in her grief and he even surpassing her,
with the perfect sorrow-stricken bearing of a man who knew how to conduct
himself in every circumstance of life, even the gravest. And afterwards
they rose together, and slowly betook themselves to the entrance of the
private apartments where the Cardinal and Donna Serafina were receiving
their relatives and friends.

Five ladies then came in one after the other, while two Capuchins and the
Spanish ambassador to the Holy See went off. And Victorine, who for a few
minutes had remained silent, suddenly resumed. "Ah! there's the little
Princess, she's much afflicted too, and, no wonder, she was so fond of
our Benedetta."

Pierre himself had just noticed Celia coming in. She also had attired
herself in full mourning for this abominable visit of farewell. Behind
her was a maid, who carried on either arm a huge sheaf of white roses.

"The dear girl!" murmured Victorine, "she wanted her wedding with her
Attilio to take place on the same day as that of the poor lovers who lie
there. And they, alas! have forestalled her, their wedding's over; there
they sleep in their bridal bed."

Celia had at once crossed herself and knelt down beside the bed, but it
was evident that she was not praying. She was indeed looking at the
lovers with desolate stupefaction at finding them so white and cold with
a beauty as of marble. What! had a few hours sufficed, had life departed,