o, justly renowned as one of the first Columbines of Italy, had
charged him to lay at the Cavaliere Valsecca's feet her excuses for the
liberty she had taken with his illustrious name, and to entreat that he
would show his magnanimity by supping with her after the play in her
room at the Three Crowns--a request she was emboldened to make by the
fact that she was lately from Pianura, and could give him the last news
of the court.

The message chimed with Odo's mood, and the play over he hastened back
to the inn with Cantapresto, and bid the landlord send to the Signorina
Miranda's room whatever delicacies the town could provide. Odo on
arriving that afternoon had himself given orders that his carriage
should be at the door the next morning an hour before sunrise; and he
now repeated these instructions to Cantapresto, charging him on his life
to see that nothing interfered with their fulfilment. The soprano
objected that the hour was already late, and that they could easily
perform the day's journey without curtailing their rest; but on Odo's
reiteration of the order he resigned himself, with the remark that it
was a pity old age had no savings-bank for the sleep that youth
squandered.

2.8.

It was something of a disappointment to Odo, on entering the Signorina
Miranda's room, to find that she was not alone. Engaged in feeding her
pet monkey with sugar-plums was the young man who had given her his arm
in the Piazza. This gentleman, whom she introduced to Odo as her cousin
and travelling companion, the Count of Castelrovinato, had the same air
of tarnished elegance as his richly-laced coat and discoloured ruffles.
He seemed, however, of a lively and obliging humour, and Mirandolina
observed with a smile that she could give no better notion of his
amiability than by mentioning that he was known among her friends as the
Cavaliere Frattanto. This praise, Odo thought, seemed scarcely to the
cousin's liking; but he carried it off with the philosophic remark that
it is the mortar between the bricks that holds the building together.

"At present," said Mirandolina laughing, "he is engaged in propping up a
ruin; for he has fallen desperately in love with our prima amorosa, a
lady who lost her virtue under the Pharaohs, but whom, for his sake, I
have been obliged to include in our little supper."

This, it was clear, was merely a way of palliating the Count's
infatuation for herself; but he took the second thrust as good-na