sed from
pecuniary motives? I regret that you have so irrevocably fixed your
affections on the Signor Geronimo, when you might have chosen among a
hundred others richer and of higher estate. The head of the powerful house
of Buonvisi had more claim upon my sympathy and yours."

"Simon Turchi!" said the young girl, sorrowfully bowing her head.

"What has this poor Signor Turchi left undone during the past three years
to prove his chivalric love?" replied her father. "Festivals, banquets,
concerts, boating on the Scheldt, nothing has been spared; he has expended
a fortune to please you. At one time you did not dislike him; but ever
since the fatal night when he was attacked by unknown assassins and
wounded in the face, you look upon him with different eyes. Instead of
being grateful to the good Turchi, you comport yourself in such a manner
towards him, that I am induced to believe that you hate him."

"Hate the Signor Turchi!" exclaimed Mary, as if frightened by the
accusation. "Dear father, do not indulge such a thought."

"He is a handsome, dignified gentleman, my child."

"Yes, father; he has long been an intimate friend of the Signor
Geronimo."[7]

Mr. Van de Werve took his daughter's hand, and said, gently: "Geronimo may
be finer-looking to a woman's eye; but his future depends upon his uncle's
kindness. He is young and inexperienced, and he possesses nothing himself.
The Signor Turchi, on the contrary, is rich and highly esteemed in the
world as partner and administrator of the well-known house of Buonvisi.
Think better of your choice, Mary; satisfy my desires and your brothers':
it is not yet too late."

Tears filled the eyes of the young girl; she replied, however, with a
sweet resignation: "Father, I am your submissive child. Command, and I
will obey without a murmur, and humbly kiss the venerated hand which
imposes the painful sacrifice. But Geronimo! poor Geronimo!"

At these words her fortitude forsook her; she covered her face with her
hands, and wept bitterly; her tears fell like bright pearls upon the
marble floor.

For some moments Mr. Van de Werve contemplated his daughter with
ever-increasing pity; then overcome by the sight of her grief, he took her
hand, and tenderly pressing it, he said to her: "Cheer up, my dear Mary,
do not weep. We will see what answer the Signor Deodati will return to the
conditions I will propose to him. Geronimo is of noble birth; if his uncle
will consent to bestow up