dame Mayer. Sufficient to her
were the good things of the day; the rest was in no way her business.
There was Valdarno in the club-box, with a knot of other men of his own
stamp. There were the Rocca, mother and daughter and son--a boy of
eighteen--and a couple of men in the back of the box. Everybody was
there, as her husband had said; and as she dropped her glance toward
the stalls, she was aware of Giovanni Saracinesca's black eyes looking
anxiously up to her. A faint smile crossed her serene face, and almost
involuntarily she nodded to him and then looked away. Many men were
watching her, and bowed as she glanced at them, and she bent her head to
each; but there was no smile for any save Giovanni, and when she looked
again to where he had been standing with his back to the stage, he was
gone from his place.

"They are the same old things," said Astrardente, "but they are still
very amusing. Madame Mayer always seems to get the wrong man into her
box. She would give all those diamonds to have Giovanni Saracinesca
instead of that newsmonger fellow. If he comes here I will send him
across."

"Perhaps she likes Del Ferice," suggested Corona.

"He is a good lapdog--a very good dog," answered her husband. "He cannot
bite at all, and his bark is so soft that you would take it for the
mewing of a kitten. He fetches and carries admirably."

"Those are good points, but not interesting ones. He is very tiresome
with his eternal puns and insipid compliments, and his gossip."

"But he is so very harmless," answered Astrardente, with compassionate
scorn. "He is incapable of doing an injury. Donna Tullia is wise in
adopting him as her slave. She would not be so safe with Saracinesca, for
instance. If you feel the need of an admirer, my dear, take Del Ferice. I
have no objection to him."

"Why should I need admirers?" asked Corona, quietly.

"I was merely jesting, my love. Is not your own husband the greatest of
your admirers, and your devoted slave into the bargain?" Old
Astrardente's face twisted itself into the semblance of a smile, as he
leaned towards his young wife, lowering his cracked voice to a thin
whisper. He was genuinely in love with her, and lost no opportunity
of telling her so. She smiled a little wearily.

"You are very good to me," she said. She had often wondered how it was
that this aged creature, who had never been faithful to any attachment in
his life for five months, did really seem to love her just