claimed Donna Tullia, angrily. "Do you seriously
believe--"

"Nothing that you say," said Corona, completing the sentence.

Unable to bear the situation, Madame Mayer rose suddenly from her seat,
and began to pace the small room with short, angry steps.

"You shall see," she said, fiercely--"you shall see that it is all true.
You shall see this man's face when I accuse him--you shall see him
humiliated, overthrown, exposed in his villany--the wretch! You shall see
how--"

Corona's strong voice interrupted her enemy's invective in ringing tones.

"Be silent!" she cried. "In twenty minutes he will be here. But if you
say one word against him before he comes, I will lock you into this room
and leave you. I certainly will not hear you."

Donna Tullia reflected that the Duchessa was in her own house, and
moreover that she was not a woman to be trifled with. She threw herself
into a chair, and taking up a book that lay upon the table, she pretended
to read.

Corona remained seated by the fireplace, glancing at her from time to
time. She was strangely inclined to laugh at the whole situation, which
seemed to her absurd in the extreme--for it never crossed her mind to
believe that there was a word of truth in the accusation against
Giovanni. Nevertheless she was puzzled to account for Donna Tullia's
assurance, and especially for her readiness to face the man she so
calumniated. A quarter of an hour elapsed in this armed silence--the two
women glancing at each other from time to time, until the distant sound
of wheels rolling under the great gate announced that the messenger had
returned from the Palazzo Saracinesca, probably conveying Don Giovanni
and his father.

"Then you have made up your mind to the humiliation of the man you love?"
asked Donna Tullia, looking up from her book with a sneer on her face.

Corona vouchsafed no answer, but her eyes turned towards the door in
expectation. Presently there were steps heard without. The servant
entered, and announced Prince Saracinesca and Don Giovanni. Corona
rose. The old man came in first, followed by his son.

"An unexpected pleasure," he said, gaily. "Such good luck! We were both
at home. Ah, Donna Tullia," he cried, seeing Madame Mayer, "how are you?"
Then seeing her face, he added, suddenly, "Is anything the matter?"

Meanwhile Giovanni had entered, and stood by Corona's side near the
fireplace. He saw at once that something was wrong, and he looked
anxiously fr