y. "I do not see that
it is a great match after all, for the last of the Saracinesca."

"You think she will lead him a terrible dance, I daresay," returned the
old man. "She is gay--very gay; and Giovanni is very, very solemn."

"I did not mean that she was too gay. I only think that Saracinesca might
marry, for instance, the Rocca girl. Why should he take a widow?"

"Such a young widow. Old Mayer was as decrepit as any old statue in a
museum. He was paralysed in one arm, and gouty--gouty, my dear; you do
not know how gouty he was." The old fellow grinned scornfully; he had
never had the gout. "Donna Tullia is a very young widow. Besides, think
of the fortune. It would break old Saracinesca's heart to let so much
money go out of the family. He is a miserly old wretch, Saracinesca!"

"I never heard that," said Corona.

"Oh, there are many things in Rome that one never hears, and that is one
of them. I hate avarice--it is so extremely vulgar."

Indeed Astrardente was not himself avaricious, though he had all his life
known how to protect his interests. He loved money, but he loved also to
spend it, especially in such a way as to make a great show with it. It
was not true, however, that Saracinesca was miserly. He spent a large
income without the smallest ostentation.

"Really, I should hardly call Prince Saracinesca a miser," said Corona.
"I cannot imagine, from what I know of him, why he should be so anxious
to get Madame Mayer's fortune; but I do not think it is out of mere
greediness."

"Then I do not know what you can call it," returned her husband, sharply.
"They have always had that dismal black melancholy in that family--that
detestable love of secretly piling up money, while their faces are as
grave and sour as any Jew's in the Ghetto."

Corona glanced at her husband, and smiled faintly as she looked at his
thin old features, where the lights and shadows were touched in with
delicate colour more artfully than any actress's, superficially
concealing the lines traced by years of affectation and refined egotism;
and she thought of Giovanni's strong manly face, passionate indeed, but
noble and bold. A moment later she resolutely put the comparison out of
her mind, and finding that her husband was inclined to abuse the
Saracinesca, she tried to turn the conversation.

"I suppose it will be a great ball at the Frangipani's," she said. "We
will go, of course?" she added, interrogatively.

"Of course. I would