n a more conciliatory tone.

"Let us be just," he said. "I will listen to you, and I shall be glad if
you will listen to me. In the first place, when I think of marriage I
represent something to myself by the term--"

"I hope so," growled the old man.

"I look upon marriage as an important step in a man's life. I am not so
old as to make my marriage an immediate necessity, nor so young as to be
able wholly to disregard it. I do not desire to be hurried; for when I
make up my mind, I intend to make a choice which, if it does not ensure
happiness, will at least ensure peace. I do not wish to marry Madame
Mayer. She is young, handsome, rich--"

"Very," ejaculated the Prince.

"Very. I also am young and rich, if not handsome."

"Certainly not handsome," said his father, who was nursing his wrath, and
meanwhile spoke calmly. "You are the image of me."

"I am proud of the likeness," said Giovanni, gravely. "But to return to
Madame Mayer. She is a widow--"

"Is that her fault?" inquired his father irrelevantly, his anger rising
again.

"I trust not," said Giovanni, with a smile. "I trust she did not murder
old Mayer. Nevertheless she is a widow. That is a strong objection. Have
any of my ancestors married widows?"

"You show your ignorance at every turn," said the old Prince, with a
scornful laugh. "Leone Saracinesca married the widow of the Elector of
Limburger-Stinkenstein in 1581."

"It is probably the German blood in our veins which gives you your
taste for argument," remarked Giovanni. "Because three hundred years
ago an ancestor married a widow, I am to marry one now. Wait--do not be
angry--there are other reasons why I do not care for Madame Mayer. She is
too gay for me--too fond of the world."

The Prince burst into aloud ironical laugh. His white hair and beard
bristled about his dark face, and he showed all his teeth, strong and
white still.

"That is magnificent!" he cried; "it is superb, splendid, a piece of
unpurchasable humour! Giovanni Saracinesca has found a woman who is too
gay for him! Heaven be praised! We know his taste at last. We will give
him a nun, a miracle of all the virtues, a little girl out of a convent,
vowed to a life of sacrifice and self-renunciation. That will please
him--he will be a model happy husband."

"I do not understand this extraordinary outburst," answered Giovanni,
with cold scorn. "Your mirth is amazing, but I fail to understand its
source."

His father ceased l