d
out of the ponderous arm-chair, and went out into the garden. There
(leaning over the balustrade of the lowest terrace, under the
willful branches of a big nonia-tree, weighted with fronds of scarlet
trumpet-flowers, that hung out lazily from the wall, to which the
stem was nailed) Cavaliere Trenta found Count Nobili and Fra Pacifico
awaiting the marchesa's summons. Behind them, at a respectful
distance, stood Ser Giacomo, the notary from Corellia. Streamlets pure
as crystal ran bubbling down beside them in marble runnels; statues
of gods and goddesses balanced each other, on pedestals, at the angles
where the steps turned. In front, on the gravel, a pair of peacocks
strutted, spreading their gaudy tails in the sunshine.

As the four men entered the sala, they seemed to bring the evening
shadows with them. These suddenly slanted across the floor like
pointed arrows, darkening the places where the sun had shone. Was it
fancy, or did the sparkling fountain at the door, as it fell backward
into the marble basin, murmur with a sound like human sighs?

Count Nobili walked first. He was grave and pale. Having made a formal
obeisance to the marchesa, his quick eye traveled round in search of
Enrica. Not finding her, it settled again upon her aunt. As Nobili
entered, she raised her smooth, snake-like head, and met his gaze in
silence. She had scarcely bowed, in recognition of his salute. Now,
with the slightest possible inclination of her head, she signed to him
to take his place on one of the chairs before her.

Fra Pacifico, his full, broad face perfectly unmoved, and Cavaliere
Trenta, who watched the scene nervously with troubled, twinkling eyes,
placed themselves on either side of Count Nobili. Ser Giacomo had
already slipped round behind the sofa, and seated himself at a table
placed against the wall, the marriage-contract spread out before
him. There was an awkward pause. Then Count Nobili rose, and, in that
sweet-toned voice which had fallen like a charm on many a woman's ear,
addressed the marchesa.

"Marchesa Guinigi, hereditary Governess of Lucca, and Countess of
the Garfagnana, I am come to ask in marriage the hand of your niece,
Enrica Guinigi. I desire no portion with her. The lady herself is a
portion more than enough for me."

As Nobili ceased speaking, the ruddy color shot across his brow and
cheeks, and his eyes glistened. His generous nature spoke in those few
words.

"Count Nobili," replied the marc