her mind that the old Prince could appear on his son's
behalf, and she did not know how to meet him.

"I have perhaps been too abrupt," said Saracinesca. "I love my son very
dearly, and his happiness is more to me than what remains of my own. If
from the first you regard my proposition as an impossible one, I would
spare him the pain of a humiliation,--I fear I could not save him from
the rest, from a suffering that might drive him mad. It is for this
reason that I implore you, if you are able, to give me some answer, not
that I may convey it to him, but in order that I may be guided in future.
He cannot forget you; but he has not seen you for six months. To see you
again if he must leave you for ever, would only inflict a fresh wound."
He paused, while Corona slowly walked by his side.

"I do not see why I should conceal the truth, from you," she said at
last. "I cannot conceal it from myself. I am not a child that I should
be ashamed of it. There is nothing wrong in it--no reason why it should
not be. You are honest, too--why should we try to deceive ourselves? I
trust to your honour to be silent, and I own that I--that I love your
son."

Corona stood still and turned her face away, as the burning blush rose to
her cheeks. The answer she had given was characteristic of her,
straightforward and honest. She was not ashamed of it, and yet the words
were so new, so strange in their sound, and so strong in their meaning,
that she blushed as she uttered them. Saracinesca was greatly surprised,
too, for he had expected some evasive turn, some hint that he might bring
Giovanni. But his delight had no bounds.

"Duchessa," he said, "the happiest day I can remember was when I brought
home my wife to Saracinesca. My proudest day will be that on which my son
enters the same gates with you by his side."

He took her hand and raised it to his lips, with a courteous gesture.

"It will be long before that--it must be very long," answered Corona.

"It shall be when you please, Madam, provided it is at last. Meanwhile we
will come down to-morrow, and take you to our tower. Do you understand
now why I said that I hoped you would come again and stay longer? I
trust you have not changed your mind in regard to the excursion."

"No. We will expect you to-morrow night. Remember, I have been honest
with you--I trust to you to be silent."

"You have my word. And now, with your permission, I will return to
Saracinesca. Believe me, the