in question, I am a Medicean, and will be a
Medicean till I die. I am of the same mind as Farinata degli Uberti: if
any man asks me what is meant by siding with a party, I say, as he did,
`To wish ill or well, for the sake of past wrongs or kindnesses.'"

During this short dialogue, Tito had been standing, and now took his
leave.

"But come again at the same hour to-morrow," said Bardo, graciously,
before Tito left the room, "that I may give you Bartolommeo's answer."

"From what quarter of the sky has this pretty Greek youngster alighted
so close to thy chair, Bardo?" said Bernardo del Nero, as the door
closed. He spoke with dry emphasis, evidently intended to convey
something more to Bardo than was implied by the mere words.

"He is a scholar who has been shipwrecked and has saved a few gems, for
which he wants to find a purchaser. I am going to send him to
Bartolommeo Scala, for thou knowest it were more prudent in me to
abstain from further purchases."

Bernardo shrugged his shoulders and said, "Romola, wilt thou see if my
servant is without? I ordered him to wait for me here." Then, when
Romola was at a sufficient distance, he leaned forward and said to Bardo
in a low, emphatic tone--

"Remember, Bardo, thou hast a rare gem of thy own; take care no one gets
it who is not likely to pay a worthy price. That pretty Greek has a
lithe sleekness about him, that seems marvellously fitted for slipping
easily into any nest he fixes his mind on."

Bardo was startled: the association of Tito with the image of his lost
son had excluded instead of suggesting the thought of Romola. But
almost immediately there seemed to be a reaction which made him grasp
the warning as if it had been a hope.

"But why not, Bernardo? If the young man approved himself worthy--he is
a scholar--and--and there would be no difficulty about the dowry, which
always makes thee gloomy."

CHAPTER SEVEN.

A LEARNED SQUABBLE.

Bartolommeo Scala, secretary of the Florentine Republic, on whom Tito
Melema had been thus led to anchor his hopes, lived in a handsome palace
close to the Porta Pinti, now known as the Casa Gherardesca. His arms--
an azure ladder transverse on a golden field, with the motto _Gradatim_
placed over the entrance--told all comers that the miller's son held his
ascent to honours by his own efforts a fact to be proclaimed without
wincing. The secretary was a vain and pompous man, but he was also an
honest one: he