liar. She is not
in the least like the typical submissive young Italian girl. She is
excessively self-willed, capricious, fantastic, unreasonable----'"

"Bravo," put in the Commendatore, clapping his bony old hands. "I can
say all that with a clear conscience." He twirled his moustaches again.

"Do you think I would ask you to say anything you could n't say with a
clear conscience?" Susanna demanded, with a glance of reproach. "So,
with a clear conscience, you go on: 'Your cousin is fantastic,
unreasonable, sentimental, romantic, extravagant. And--to come to the
point--she has got it into her unreasonable and romantic little head
that she has no right to the position which she occupies. She has
studied the history of her family, and she has got it into her perverse
little head that by the changes which took place in 1850 a very great
injustice was perpetrated. She has persuaded herself, in short, that
the properties here at Sampaolo, which are technically and legally
hers, are rightfully and morally _yours_; and, to tell you the whole
truth, since my guardianship expired, a few months ago, I have had hard
work to restrain her from taking measures to relinquish those
properties in your favour.' No--don't interrupt," she forbade him,
when the Commendatore made as if to speak.

A sound of guttural impatience died in the old man's throat. He fanned
himself nervously, while Susanna, smiling, resumed the lesson.

"'But,' you declare with energy, 'I _have_ restrained her, and I shall
continue to restrain her. She could only make the properties over to
you by becoming a nun and taking vows of perpetual poverty. I will
fight to my dying gasp to prevent her from doing that. However'--and
now you change your note, and speak as one anxious to conciliate and
convince--'however, it has occurred to me that there is a simple course
by which the whole awkward situation could be solved--by which your
cousin's scruples could be set at rest, and you yourself put in
possession of your ancestral estates. My dear Count, your cousin is a
charming girl, and it is my chief concern and duty to arrange a
suitable marriage for her. Let me have the very great satisfaction of
arranging a marriage between her and you.'"

Susanna leaned back, and laughed. But the Commendatore frowned at her
with genuine anger.

"_Macche_!" he cried. "What fool's talk is this? What farce are you
preparing?"

"No farce," said Susanna, gently. "