"I am a little weak--but an hour with you will do me more good than all the doctors in the world."

"Thanks," said Donna Tullia, with a little laugh. "It was strange to see you shaking hands with Giovanni Saracinesca just now. I suppose men have to do that sort of thing."

"You may be sure I would not have done it unless it had been necessary,"

returned Del Ferice, bitterly.

"I should think not. What an arrogant man he is!"

"You no longer like him?" asked Del Fence, innocently.

"Like him! No; I never liked him," replied Donna Tullia, quickly.

"Oh, I thought you did; I used to wonder at it." Ugo grew thoughtful.

"I was always good to him," said Donna Tullia. "But of course I can never forgive him for what he did at the Frangipani ball."

"No; nor I," answered Del Ferice, readily. "I shall always hate him for that too."

"I do not say that I exactly hate him."

"You have every reason. It appears to me that since my illness we have another idea in common, another bond of sympathy." Del Ferice spoke almost tenderly; but he laughed immediately afterwards, as though not wishing his words to be interpreted too seriously. Donna Tullia smiled too; she was inclined to be very kind to him.

"You are very quick to jump at conclusions," she said, playing with her red fan and looking down.

"It is always easy to reach that pleasant conclusion--that you and I are in sympathy," he answered, with a tender glance, "even in regard to hating the same person. The bond would be close indeed, if it depended on the opposite of hate. And yet I sometimes think it does. Are you not the best friend I have in the world?"

"I do not know,--I am a good friend to you," she answered.

"Indeed you are; but do you not think it would be possible to cement our friendship even more closely yet?"

Donna Tullia looked up sharply; she had no idea of allowing him to propose to marry her. His face, however, was grave--unlike his usual expression when he meant to be tender, and which she knew very well.

"I do not know," she said, with a light laugh. "How do you mean?"

"If I could do you some great service--if I could by any means satisfy what is now your chief desire in life--would not that help to cement our friendship, as I said?"

"Perhaps," she answered, thoughtfully. "But then you do not know--you cannot guess even--what I most wish at this moment."

"I think I could," said Del Ferice, fixing his eyes upon her. "I am sure I could, but I will not. I should risk offending you."

"No; I will not be angry. You may guess if you please." Donna Tullia in her turn looked, fixedly at her companion. They seemed trying to read each other's thoughts.

"Very well," said Ugo at last, "I will tell you. You would like to see the Astrardente dead and Giovanni Saracinesca profoundly humiliated."

Donna Tullia started. But indeed there was nothing strange in her companion's knowledge of her feelings. Many people, being asked what she felt, would very likely have said the same, for the world had seen her discomfiture and had laughed at it.

"You are a very singular man," she said, uneasily.

"In other words," replied Del Ferice, calmly, "I am perfectly right in my surmises. I see it in your face. Of course," he added, with a laugh, "it is mere jest. But the thing is quite possible. If I fulfilled your desire of just and poetic vengeance, what would you give me?"

Donna Tullia laughed in her turn, to conceal the extreme interest she felt in what he said.

"Whatever you like," she said. But even while the laugh was on her lips her eyes sought his uneasily.

"Would you marry me, for instance, as the enchanted princess in the fairy story marries the prince who frees her from the spell?" He seemed immensely amused at the idea.

"Why not?" she laughed.

"It would be the only just recompense," he answered. "See how impossible the thing appears. And yet a few pounds of dynamite would blow up the Great Pyramid. Giovanni Saracinesca is not so strong as he looks."

"Oh, I would not have him hurt!" exclaimed Donna Tullia in alarm.

"I do not mean physically, nor morally, but socially."

"How?"

"That is my secret," returned Del Ferice, quietly.

"It sounds as though you were pretending to know more than you really do," she answered.

"No; it is the plain truth," said Del Ferice, quietly. "If you were in earnest I might be willing to tell you what the secret is, but for a mere jest I cannot. It is far too serious a matter."

His tone convinced Donna Tullia that he really possessed some weapon which he could use against Don Giovanni if he pleased. She wondered only why, if it were true, he did not use it, seeing that he must hate Saracinesca with all his heart. Del Ferice knew so much about people, so many strange and forgotten stories, he had so accurate a memory and so acute an intelligence, that it was by no means impossible that he was in possession of some secret connected with the Saracinesca. They were, or were thought to be, wild, unruly men, both father and son; there were endless stories about them both; and there was nothing more likely than that, in his numerous absences from home, Giovanni had at one time or another figured in some romantic affair, which he would be sorry to have had generally known. Del Ferice was wise enough to keep his own counsel; but now that his hatred was thoroughly roused, he might very likely make use of the knowledge he possessed. Donna Tullia's curiosity was excited to its highest pitch, and at the same time she had pleasant visions of the possible humiliation of the man by whom she felt herself so ill-used.

It would be worth while making the sacrifice in order to learn Del Fence's secret.

"This need not be a mere jest," she said, after a moment's silence.

"That is as you please," returned Del Ferice, seriously. "If you are willing to do your part, you may be sure that I will do mine."

"You cannot think I really meant what I said just now," replied Donna Tullia. "It would be madness."

"Why? Am I halt, am I lame, am I blind? Am I repulsively ugly? Am I a pauper, that I should care for your money? Have I not loved you--yes, loved you long and faithfully? Am I too old? Is there anything in the nature of things why I should not aspire to be your husband?"

It was strange. He spoke calmly, as though enumerating the advantages of a friend. Donna Tullia looked at him for a moment, and then laughed outright.

"No," she said; "all that is very true. You may aspire, as you call it.

The question is, whether I shall aspire too. Of course, if we happened to agree in aspiring, we could be married to-morrow."

"Precisely," answered Del Ferice, perfectly unmoved. "I am not proposing to marry you. I am arguing the case. There is this in the case which is perhaps outside the argument--this, that I am devotedly attached to you.

The case is the stronger for that. I was only trying to demonstrate that the idea of our being married is not so unutterably absurd. You laughingly said you would marry me if I could accomplish something which would please you very much. I laughed also; but now I seriously repeat my proposition, because I am convinced that although at first sight it may appear extremely humourous, on a closer inspection it will be found exceedingly practical. In union is strength."

Donna Tullia was silent for a moment, and her face grew grave. There was reason in what he said. She did not care for him--she had never thought of marrying him; but she recognised the justice of what he said. It was clear that a man of his social position, received everywhere and intimate with all her a.s.sociates, might think of marrying her. He looked positively handsome since he was wounded; he was accomplished and intelligent; he had sufficient means of support to prevent him from being suspected of marrying solely for money, and he had calmly stated that he loved her. Perhaps he did. It was flattering to Donna Tullia's vanity to believe him, and his acts had certainly not belied his words.

He was by far the most thoughtful of all her admirers, and he affected to treat her always with a certain respect which she had never succeeded in obtaining from Valdarno and the rest. A woman who likes to be noisy, but is conscious of being a little vulgar, is always flattered when a man behaves towards her with profound reverence. It will even sometimes cure her of her vulgarity. Donna Tullia reflected seriously upon what Del Ferice had said.

"I never had such a proposition made to me in my life," she said. "Of course you cannot think I regard it as a possible one, even now. You cannot think I am so base as to sell myself for the sake of revenging an insult once offered me. If I am to regard this as a proposal of marriage, I must decline it with thanks. If it is merely a proposition for an alliance, I think the terms of the treaty are unequal."

Del Ferice smiled.

"I knew you well enough to know what your answer would be," he said. "I never insulted you by dreaming that you would accept such a proposition.