I broke off the match. It estranged
me, of course, from _him_; and indeed he has never forgiven me."

"He might, however, now, if he saw that you could establish your
fortunes so favorably,--don't you think so?"

"No, Carlo. It is all for rank and title, not for money, that he cares!
His whole game in life was played for the Peerage. He wanted to be 'My
Lord;' and though repeatedly led to believe he was to have the title,
the Minister put off, and put off, and at last fell from power without
keeping his pledge. Now in this Spanish business he bargained that I
was to be a Duke,--a Grandee of Spain. The Queen declared it impossible.
Mufios himself was refused. The dukedom, however, I could have. With
the glitter of that ducal coronet before his eyes, he paid three hundred
thousand francs I lost at the Jockey Club in Paris, and he merely said,
'Your luck in love has been somewhat costly,--don't play such high
stakes again.'"

"He is _tres grand seigneur!_" said the Italian, with a voice of intense
admiration and respect.

"Yes," said Maitland; "in every case where mere money enters, he is
princely. I never met a man who thought less of his gold. The strange
thing is, that it is his ambition which exhibits him so small!"

"Adagio, adagio, caro mio!" cried Caffarelli, laughing. "I see where you
are bound for now. You are going to tell me, as you have some score
of times, that to all English estimation our foreign titles are sheer
nonsense; that our pauper counts and beggarly dukes are laughing matter
for even your Manchester folk; and that in your police code baron and
blackleg are synonyms. Now spare me all this, _caro_ Maitland, for I
know it by heart."

"If one must say such impertinences, it is well to say them to a
cardinal's nephew."

The slight flush of temper in the Italian's cheek gave way at once, and
he asked good-humoredly, as he said, "Better say them to me, certainly,
than to my uncle. But, to be practical, if he does attach so much
importance to rank and title, why do you not take that countship of
Amalfi the King offered you six months ago, and which, to this day, he
is in doubt whether you have accepted or refused?"

"How do you know that?" asked Maitland, eagerly.

"I know it in this wise; that when his Majesty mentioned your name t'
other day to Filangieri, he said, 'The Chevalier Maitland or Count of
Amalfi,--I don't know by which name he likes to call himself.'"

"Are you sure of this?"

"