nd how determinately
Saracinesca avoided her wherever they met, the affection she had hitherto
felt for him turned into a bitter hatred, stronger even than her jealousy
against the Duchessa. There was no scene of explanation between them, no
words passed, no dramatic situation, such as Donna Tullia loved; the
change came in a few days, and was complete. She had not even the
satisfaction of receiving some share of the attention Giovanni would have
bestowed upon Corona if she had been in town. Not only had he grown
utterly indifferent to her; he openly avoided her, and thereby inflicted
upon her vanity the cruellest wound she was capable of feeling.

With Donna Tullia to hate was to injure, to long for revenge--not of the
kind which is enjoyed in secret, and known only to the person who suffers
and the person who causes the suffering. She did not care for that so
much as she desired some brilliant triumph over her enemies before the
world; some startling instance of poetic justice, which should at one
blow do a mortal injury to Corona d'Astrardente, and bring Giovanni
Saracinesca to her own feet by force, repentant and crushed, to be dealt
with as she saw fit, according to his misdeeds. But she had chosen her
adversaries ill, and her heart misgave her. She had no hold upon them,
for they were very strong people, very powerful, and very much respected
by their fellows. It was not easy to bring them into trouble; it
seemed impossible to humiliate them as she wished to do, and yet her hate
was very strong. She waited and pondered, and in the meanwhile, when she
met Giovanni, she began to treat him with haughty coldness. But Giovanni
smiled, and seemed well satisfied that she should at last give over what
was to him very like a persecution. Her anger grew hotter from its very
impotence. The world saw it, and laughed.

The days of Carnival came and passed, much as they usually pass, in a
whirl of gaiety. Giovanni went everywhere, and showed his grave face; but
he talked little, and of course every one said he was melancholy at the
departure of the Duchessa. Nevertheless he kept up an appearance of
interest in what was done, and as nobody cared to risk asking him
questions, people left him in peace. The hurrying crowd of social life
filled up the place occupied by old Astrardente and the beautiful
Duchessa, and they were soon forgotten, for they had not had many
intimate friends.

On the last night of Carnival, Del Ferice app