zing at him suspiciously. (Trenta seemed, she thought, wonderfully
interested in Enrica's fate. She had noticed this interest once
before. She did not like it. What was Enrica to him? Trenta was _her_
friend.) "But she shall remain on one condition only--Nobili's name
must never be mentioned. You can inform her of this, as you have taken
already so much upon yourself. Do you hear?"

"Certainly, certainly," answered the chamberlain with alacrity. "You
shall be obeyed. I will answer for it--excellent marchesa, you are
right, always right"--and he stooped down and gently took her thin
fingers in his fat hands, and touched them with his lips.

"I will cause no scandal," she continued, withdrawing her hand. "Once
in a convent, Enrica can harm no one."

"No, certainly not," responded Trenta, "and the family will become
extinct. This palace and its precious heirlooms will be sold."

The marchesa put out her hand with silent horror.

"It is the case with so many of our great families," continued the
impassable Trenta. "Now, on the other hand, Enrica may possibly change
her mind; Nobili may change his mind. Circumstances quite unforeseen
may occur--who can answer for circumstances?"

The marchesa listened silently. This was always a good sign; she
was too obstinate to confess herself convinced. But, spite of her
prejudices, her natural shrewdness forbade her to reject absolutely
the voice of reason.

"I shall not treat Enrica cruelly," was her reply, "nor will I cause a
scandal, but I can never forgive her. By this act of loving Nobili she
has separated herself from me irrevocably. Let her renounce him; she
has her choice--mine is already made."

The cavaliere listened in silence. Much had been gained, in his
opinion, by this partial concession. The subject had been broached,
the hated name mentioned, the possibility of the marriage mooted. He
rose with a cheerful smile to take his leave.

"Marchesa, it is late--permit me to salute you; you must require
repose."

"Yes," she answered, sighing deeply. "It seems to me a year since I
entered this room. I must leave Lucca. Enrica cannot, after what
has passed, remain here. Thanks to her, I, in the solitude of my own
palace, am become the common town-talk. Cesare, I shall leave Lucca
to-morrow for my villa of Corellia. Good-night."

The cavaliere again kissed her hand and departed.

"If that weathercock of a thousand colors, that idiot, Marescotti,"
muttered the cavalie