suit had been due in part to the
desire of some of his brother cardinals to be disagreeable to him.
Personally, he desired the divorce, as it seemed to him the only means of
ensuring the perpetuation of the family; for Dario obstinately refused to
marry any other woman than his cousin. And thus there was an accumulation
of disasters; the Cardinal was wounded in his pride, his sister shared
his sufferings and on her own side was stricken in the heart, whilst both
lovers were plunged in despair at finding their hopes yet again deferred.

As Pierre approached the sofa where the young folks were chatting he
found that they were speaking of the catastrophe. "Why should you be so
despondent?" asked Celia in an undertone. "After all, there was a
majority of a vote in favour of annulling the marriage. Your suit hasn't
been rejected; there is only a delay."

But Benedetta shook her head. "No, no! If Monsignor Palma proves
obstinate his Holiness will never consent. It's all over."

"Ah! if one were only rich, very rich!" murmured Dario, with such an air
of conviction that no one smiled. And, turning to his cousin, he added in
a whisper: "I must really have a talk with you. We cannot go on living
like this."

In a breath she responded: "Yes, you are right. Come down to-morrow
evening at five. I will be here alone."

Then dreariness set in; the evening seemed to have no end. Pierre was
greatly touched by the evident despair of Benedetta, who as a rule was so
calm and sensible. The deep eyes which illumined her pure, delicate,
infantile face were now blurred as by restrained tears. He had already
formed a sincere affection for her, pleased as he was with her equable if
somewhat indolent disposition, the semblance of discreet good sense with
which she veiled her soul of fire. That Monday even she certainly tried
to smile while listening to the pretty secrets confided to her by Celia,
whose love affairs were prospering far more than her own. There was only
one brief interval of general conversation, and that was brought about by
the little Princess's aunt, who, suddenly raising her voice, began to
speak of the infamous manner in which the Italian newspapers referred to
the Holy Father. Never, indeed, had there been so much bad feeling
between the Vatican and the Quirinal. Cardinal Sarno felt so strongly on
the subject that he departed from his wonted silence to announce that on
the occasion of the sacrilegious festivities of the