Then he began to listen. Perhaps Emilio was in the house. Perhaps
Emilio was talking now to the Signora, was telling her what to do.
But he heard no sound of voices speaking.
No doubt Emilio had seen the Signora that morning in the hotel. No
doubt there had been a consultation. And probably at this consultation
his--the Marchesino's--fate had been decided.
By Emilio?
At that moment the Marchesino actively, even furiously, hated his
former friend.
There was a little noise at the door; the Marchesino turned swiftly,
and saw Hermione coming in. He looked eagerly behind her. But the door
shut. She was alone. She did not give her hand to him. He bowed,
trying to look calm.
"Good-afternoon, Signora."
Hermione sat down. He followed her example.
"I don't know why you wish to see me, after yesterday, Marchese," she
said, quietly, looking at him with steady eyes.
"Signora, pardon me, but I should have thought that you would know."
"What is it?"
"Signora, I am here to ask the great honor of your daughter the
Signorina's hand in marriage.
Pages:
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740