he mask of irony.

This desperate effort of her wits at the crisis succeeded.

Merthyr, not knowing what design he had, hopeless of any definite end in
tormenting the woman, and never having it in his mind merely to punish,
was diverted by the exclamation to speak ironically. "You can tell
Countess Anna that it is only her temporal sovereign who is attacked,
and that therefore--" he could not continue.

"Some affection?" he murmured, in intense grief.

His manly forbearance touched her whose moral wit was too blunt to
apprehend the contempt in it.

"Much affection--much!" Violetta exclaimed. "I have a deep affection for
Count Ammiani; an old friendship. Believe me! believe me! I came here
last night to save him. Anything on earth that I can do, I will do--on
my honour; and do not smile at that--I have never pledged it without
fulfilling the oath. I will not sleep while I can aid in preserving him.
He shall know that I am not the base person he has conceived me to be.
You, signor Powys, are not a man to paint all women black that are a
little less than celestial--are you? I am told it is a trick with your
countrymen; and they have a poet who knew us! I entreat you to
confide in me. I am at present quite unaware that Count Ammiani runs
particular--I mean personal danger. He is in danger, of course; everyone
can see it. But, on my honour--and never in my life have I spoken so
earnestly, my friends would hardly recognize me--I declare to you on my
faith as a Christian lady, I am ignorant of any plot against him. I
can take a Cross and kiss it, like a peasant, and swear to you by the
Madonna that I know nothing of it."

She corrected her ardour, half-exulting in finding herself carried so
far and so swimmingly on a tide of truth, half wondering whether the
flowering beauty of her face in excitement had struck his sensibility.
He was cold and speculative.

"Ah!" she said, "if I were to ask my compatriots to put faith in a
woman's pure friendship for a man, I should know the answer; but you,
signor Powys, who have shown us that a man is capable of the purest
friendship for a woman, should believe me."

He led her down to the gates, where her coachman sat muffled in a
three-quarter sleep. The word was given to drive to her own house;
rejoiced by which she called his attention deploringly to the condition
of her horses, requesting him to say whether he could imagine them the
best English, and confessing with regret, tha