swore to dance till three in the morning
at the Montevarchi's and finish the night with a rousing baccarat at the
club, which projects he began to put into execution as soon as was
practicable.

In due time the guests departed, solemnly renewing their expressions of
good wishes, and the Saracinesca household was left to itself. The old
prince stood before the fire in the state drawing-room, rubbing his
hands and shaking his head. Giovanni and Corona sat on opposite sides of
the fireplace, looking at each other and somewhat inclined to laugh.
Orsino was intently studying a piece of historical tapestry which had
never interested him before.

The silence lasted some time. Then old Saracinesca raised his head and
gave vent to his feelings, with all his old energy.

"What a museum!" he exclaimed. "I would not have believed that I should
live to dine in my own house with a party of stranded figure-heads, set
up in rows around my table! The paint is all worn off and the brains are
all worn out and there is nothing left but a cracked old block of wood
with a ribbon around its neck. You will be just like them, Giovanni, in
a few years, for you will be just like me--we all turn into the same
shape at seventy, and if we live a dozen years longer it is because
Providence designs to make us an awful example to the young."

"I hope you do not call yourself a figure-head," said Giovanni.

"They are calling me by worse names at this very minute as they drive
home. 'That old Methuselah of a Saracinesca, how has he the face to go
on living?' That is the way they talk. 'People ought to die decently
when other people have had enough of them, instead of sitting up at the
table like death's-heads to grin at their grandchildren and
great-grandchildren!' They talk like that, Giovanni. I have known some
of those old monuments for sixty years and more--since they were babies
and I was of Orsino's age. Do you suppose I do not know how they talk?
You always take me for a good, confiding old fellow, Giovanni. But then,
you never understood human nature."

Giovanni laughed and Corona smiled. Orsino turned round to enjoy the
rare delight of seeing the old gentleman rouse himself in a fit of
temper.

"If you were ever confiding it was because you were too good," said
Giovanni affectionately.

"Yes--good and confiding--that is it! You always did agree with me as to
my own faults. Is it not true, Corona? Can you not take my part against
that