I ought to marry, and if that is the case why not one as well as
another? My brother has no children; I am the last of my name."

With a cry she flung her arms around his neck and broke into a storm of
weeping. "You shan't marry her! You shan't. She shall not have your
children for you!"

But Giovanni grew impatient. He unclasped her hands and pushed her away.
"If you make these scenes all the time, I won't come near you! Please,
once for all, let us have this ended. If there is one thing I can't
endure, it is a woman who cries. Here, take my handkerchief. Come
now--that is right, be reasonable." His tone modified, and he lightly
and more affectionately laid his hand upon her shoulder. "Come here a
minute, I want to show you a picture." He led her, as he spoke, before a
long mirror.

"Now, _cara mia_, tell me, do you think that a man who possessed the
love of such a woman as that would be apt to run seeking elsewhere?"

La Favorita looked at her own reflection, at the slender yet full
perfection of southern beauty, and she saw also the returning ardor in
the face of her lover as he, too, looked at her image. Her black eyes
grew soft, her lips parted slightly--with a sudden exuberance he caught
her to him, and this time he held her so tensely that, although her
plaint was the same, her tone was altogether different. "But I don't
want you to marry--even without love, I don't want you to," she pouted
softly.

"You are an idiot, Fava!" But the words were whispered caressingly. "It
would be much better for you if I did."

CHAPTER X

MR. RANDOLPH SENDS FOR JOHN DERBY

Meanwhile, one morning in New York, the express elevator of the American
Trust Building shot skyward without stop to the twentieth story, at
which John Derby alighted. He emerged upon a broad space of marble
corridor, leading to the offices of J. B. Randolph & Co. Derby, being
known--and, moreover, on the list of those expected--escaped the
catechism to which visitors usually were subjected, and was shown into
the waiting room without question. When, some minutes later, he was
admitted to Mr. Randolph's private office, he caught the sign of battle
in the ruffled effect of the great financier's hair, for he had a habit,
when excited, of running his fingers up over his right temple until his
iron gray locks bristled. But, whatever the cause of his annoyance, it
was put aside as he held out his hand in unmistakable welcome to Derby.
"Hello, John