ind
was unsettled, and that he himself was in imminent danger of going mad.
That, at least, was the impression produced upon the household.

As the days went by, the gloom deepened in the Palazzo Macomer, and when
the three met at their meals, or sat together for a short time in the
evening, the silence was rarely broken.

At first, it was congenial to Veronica; for if her grief was not
passionate nor destined to be everlasting, her sorrow was profoundly
sincere. It was the companionship of Bosio that she missed most keenly
and constantly, through the long, empty hours.

No one who called was received during those first days. It chanced that
Cardinal Campodonico had gone to Rome to attend one of the consistories
for the creation of new cardinals, which are often held shortly before
Christmas. Had he been in Naples, he would of course have been admitted.
He wrote to Gregorio, and to Veronica, short, stiff, but sincere,
letters of condolence. He was a man of a large heart, which was terribly
tempered by a very narrow understanding; generous, rather than
charitable; sincere, more than expansive; tenacious, not sanguine; keen
beyond measure in ecclesiastical affairs, devoted to a cause, but
unresponsive to the touch and contact of humanity; hot in strife, but
cold in affection.

Society came to the door of the palace and deposited cards, with a
pencilled abbreviation for a phrase of condolence, the very shortest
shorthand of sympathy. Veronica looked through them. All the Della Spina
people had come. She found also Taquisara's plain cards,--'Sigismondo
Taquisara,'--without so much as a title, and in the corner were the
usual two letters in pencil, strong and clear, but just the same as
those on all the others. Somehow, she knew that she had looked through
them all, in order to find his and Gianluca's. The letters on the
latter's bit of pasteboard were in a feminine hand--probably his
mother's. Veronica's lip curled a little scornfully, but then she looked
suddenly grave--perhaps he had been too ill to come himself, and if so,
she was sorry for him and would not laugh at him. As for Taquisara, he
was so unlike other men, that she had unconsciously expected something
different to be visible on his card.

The lonely girl spent as much of her time as possible in reading. But it
was very gloomy. It rained, too, for days together, which made it worse.
Bianca Corleone came to see her, and they sat a long time together, but
n