ake of the boat.

"If that is your opinion of your daughter," said the latter, "we shall
hardly agree. Now I maintain that Donna Beatrice is the contrary of
insufferable--the most extreme of contraries. In the first place---"

"She is very pretty," said Beatrice demurely.

"I was not going to say that," laughed San Miniato.

"Ah? Then say something else."

"I will. Donna Beatrice has two gifts, at least, which make it
impossible that she should ever be insufferable, even when her beauty is
gone."

"Dio mio!" ejaculated the young girl. "The compliments are beginning in
good earnest!"

"It was time," said San Miniato, "since your mother---"

"Dear Count," interrupted Beatrice, "do not talk any more about mamma. I
am anxious to get at the compliments. Do pray let your indiscretion be
as ostentatious as possible. I cannot wait another second."

"No need of waiting," answered San Miniato, again addressing himself to
the Marchesa. "Donna Beatrice has two great gifts. She is kind, and she
has charm."

There being no exact equivalent for the word "charm" in the Italian
language, San Miniato used the French. Ruggiero began to puzzle his
brains, asking himself what this foreign virtue could be which his
master estimated so highly. He also thought it very strange that
Beatrice should have said of herself that she was pretty, and still
stranger that San Miniato should not have said it.

"Is that all?" asked Beatrice. "I need not have been in such a hurry to
extract your compliments from you."

"If you had understood what I said," answered San Miniato unmoved, "you
would see that no man could say more of a woman."

"Kind and charming! It is not much," laughed the young girl. "Unless you
mean much more than you say--and I asked you to be indiscreet!"

"Kind hearts are rare enough in this world, Donna Beatrice, and as for
charm--"

"What is charm?"

"It is what the violet has, and the camelia has not--"

"Heavens! Are you going to sigh to me in the language of flowers?"

"Beatrice! Beatrice!" cried the Marchesa, with the same affectation of
horror as before.

"Dear mamma, are you uncomfortable? Oh no! I see now. You are horrified.
Have I said anything dreadful?" she asked, turning to San Miniato.

"Anything dreadful? What an idea! Really, Marchesa carissima, I was just
beginning to explain to Donna Beatrice what charm is, when you cut me
short. I implore you to let me go on with my explanation."

"On conditi