I were the head of a great house, with a great title and
hereditary estate."

"What has that to do with it?" Folco was mystified.

"If I were, it would make a difference, I suppose. But I'm not. I'm
plain Marcello Consalvi, no better than any one else."

"But vastly richer," Folco suggested.

"I wish I were not. I wish I were a poor clerk, working for my living."

"The air of this place is not good for you, my boy." Folco laughed
gaily.

"No, don't laugh! I'm in earnest. If I were a poor man, nobody would
think it at all strange if--" Marcello hesitated.

"If what?"

"If I married Regina," said Marcello rather desperately.

Folco's expression changed instantly.

"Was that the question you were going to ask me?" he inquired.

"Yes."

Marcello grew very red and smoked so fast that he choked himself.

"Is there any earthly reason why you should marry her?" asked Folco very
quietly.

"It would be right," Marcello answered, gaining courage.

"Yes, yes, undoubtedly," Folco hastened to admit. "In principle it would
undoubtedly be right. But it is a very serious matter, my dear boy. It
means your whole life and future. Have you"--he hesitated, with an
affectation of delicacy--"have you said anything to her about it?"

"I used to, at first, but she would not hear of it. You have no idea how
simple she is, and how little she expects anything of the sort. She
always tells me that I am to send her away when I am tired of her, to
throw her away like an old coat, as she says herself. But I could never
do that, you know. Could I?"

Marcello blushed again, hardly knowing why. Corbario seemed deeply
interested.

"She must be a very unusual sort of girl," he observed thoughtfully.
"There are not many like her, I fancy."

"There is nobody like her," Marcello answered with conviction. "That is
why I want to marry her. I owe it to her. You must admit that. I owe her
my life, for I certainly should have died if she had not taken care of
me. And then, there is the rest. She has given me all she has, and that
is herself, and she asks nothing in return. She is very proud, too. I
tried to make her accept a string of pearls in Paris, just because I
thought they would be becoming to her, but she absolutely refused."

"Really? I suppose you gave the pearls back to the jeweller?"

"No, I kept them. Perhaps I shall get her to wear them some day."

Folco smiled.

"You may just as well encourage her simple tastes," he said