arinelli would, I am sure, have risen to the first rank in his
profession.

"Signore," I said, "you are under a misapprehension. I have ensnared
nobody's affections, and I am entirely guiltless of all the crimes which
you are pleased to attribute to me."

"What? Are you not, then, the hound who bears the vile and dishonoured
name of Von Rosenau?"

"I am not. I bear the less distinguished, but, I hope, equally
respectable patronymic of Jenkinson."

But my modest disclaimer passed unheeded, for now another combatant had
thrown himself into the fray.

"Vile and dishonoured name! No one shall permit himself such language
in my presence. I am Lieutenant-General Graf von Rosenau, sir, and you
shall answer to me for your words."

The Herr Graf's knowledge of Italian was somewhat limited; but, such as
it was, it had enabled him to catch the sense of the stigma cast upon
his family, and now he was upon his feet, red and gobbling, like a
turkey-cock, and prepared to do battle with a hundred irate Venetians if
need were.

The marchese stared at him in blank amazement. "_You!_" he
ejaculated--"you Von Rosenau! It is incredible--preposterous. Why, you
are old enough to be her grandfather."

"Not old enough to be in my dotage,--as I should be if I permitted my
son to marry a beggarly Italian,--nor too old to punish impertinence as
it deserves," retorted the Graf.

"Your son? You are the father then? It is all the same to me. I will
fight you both. But the marriage shall take place first."

"It shall not."

"It shall."

"Insolent slave of an Italian, I will make you eat your words!"

"Triple brute of a German, I spit upon you!"

"Silence, sir!"

"Silence yourself!"

During this animated dialogue I sat apart, softly rubbing my hands. What
a happy dispensation it would be, I could not help thinking, if these
two old madmen were to exterminate each other, like the Kilkenny cats!
Anyhow, their attention was effectually diverted from my humble person,
and that was something to be thankful for.

Never before had I been privileged to listen to so rich a vocabulary of
vituperation. Each disputant had expressed himself, after the first few
words, in his own language, and between them they were now making hubbub
enough to bring the old house down about their ears. Up came the padrona
to see the fun; up came her fat husband, in his shirt-sleeves and
slippers; and her long-legged sons, and her tousle-headed daughters, and