no which rankled deep. It was true that
Giovanni had last been seen in the Astrardente box at the opera; but he
had not remained five minutes seated by the Duchessa before he had
suddenly invented a shallow excuse for leaving; and finally, there was no
doubt that at that very moment Corona had seemed violently agitated.
Giovanni had not reappeared till the night of the Frangipani ball, and
the duel had taken place on the very next morning. Astrardente could not
reason--his mind was too much disturbed by his anger against Valdarno;
but a vague impression that there was something wrong in it all, drove
him homewards in wild excitement. He was ill, too, and had he been in a
frame of mind to reflect upon himself, he would have noticed that his
heart was beating with ominous irregularity. He did not even think of
taking a cab, but hurried along on foot, finding, perhaps, a momentary
relief in violent exertion. The old blood rushed to his face in good
earnest, and shamed the delicately painted lights and shadows touched in
by the master-hand of Monsieur Isidore, the cosmopolitan valet.

Valdarno remained seated in the cafe, rather disturbed at what he had
done. He certainly had had no intention of raising such a storm; he was a
weak and good-natured fellow, whose vanity was easily wounded, but who
was not otherwise very sensitive, and was certainly not very intelligent.
Astrardente had laughed at him and his friends in a way which touched him
to the quick, and with childish petulance he had retaliated in the
easiest way which presented itself. Indeed there was more foundation for
his tale than Astrardente would allow. At least it was true that the
story was in the mouths of all the gossips that morning, and Valdarno had
only repeated what he had heard. He had meant to annoy the old man; he
had certainly not intended to make him so furiously angry. As for the
deliberate insult he had received, it was undoubtedly very shocking to be
told that one lied in such very plain terms; but on the other hand, to
demand satisfaction of such an old wreck as Astrardente would be
ridiculous in the extreme. Valdarno was incapable of very violent
passion, and was easily persuaded that he was in the wrong when any one
contradicted him flatly; not that he was altogether devoid of a certain
physical courage if hard pushed, but because he was not very strong, not
very confident of himself, not very combative, and not very truthful.
When Astrardente