ll, then," said Madame Grandoni, "if I like her, we 'll have it that
you ought to be in love with her. If you fail in this, it will be a
double misdemeanor. The man she 's engaged to does n't care a straw for
her. Leave me alone and I 'll tell her what I think of you."

As to Christina Light's marriage, Madame Grandoni could make no definite
statement. The young girl, of late, had made her several flying
visits, in the intervals of the usual pre-matrimonial shopping and
dress-fitting; she had spoken of the event with a toss of her head, as a
matter which, with a wise old friend who viewed things in their
essence, she need not pretend to treat as a solemnity. It was for Prince
Casamassima to do that. "It is what they call a marriage of reason," she
once said. "That means, you know, a marriage of madness!"

"What have you said in the way of advice?" Rowland asked.

"Very little, but that little has favored the prince. I know nothing of
the mysteries of the young lady's heart. It may be a gold-mine, but at
any rate it 's a mine, and it 's a long journey down into it. But the
marriage in itself is an excellent marriage. It 's not only brilliant,
but it 's safe. I think Christina is quite capable of making it a
means of misery; but there is no position that would be sacred to her.
Casamassima is an irreproachable young man; there is nothing against
him but that he is a prince. It is not often, I fancy, that a prince has
been put through his paces at this rate. No one knows the wedding-day;
the cards of invitation have been printed half a dozen times over, with
a different date; each time Christina has destroyed them. There are
people in Rome who are furious at the delay; they want to get away; they
are in a dreadful fright about the fever, but they are dying to see the
wedding, and if the day were fixed, they would make their arrangements
to wait for it. I think it very possible that after having kept them a
month and produced a dozen cases of malaria, Christina will be married
at midnight by an old friar, with simply the legal witnesses."

"It is true, then, that she has become a Catholic?"

"So she tells me. One day she got up in the depths of despair; at her
wit's end, I suppose, in other words, for a new sensation. Suddenly it
occurred to her that the Catholic church might after all hold the key,
might give her what she wanted! She sent for a priest; he happened to be
a clever man, and he contrived to interest her. Sh