d this question
so eagerly, she suddenly forgot her anger in the desire she felt to
relate her injuries. "A Guinigi palace dressed out like a booth at a
fair!--What a scandal! This comes of usury and banking. He will be a
deputy soon. Will no one tell him he is a presumptuous young idiot?"
she cried, with a burst of sudden rage, remembering the crowds that
filled the streets, and the admiration and display excited. Then,
turning round and looking Trenta full in the face, she added
spitefully, "You may worship painted dolls, and kiss black crucifixes,
if you like: I would not give them house-room."

"Mercy!" cried poor Trenta, putting his hands to his ears. "For pity's
sake--the palace _will_ fall about your ears! Remember your niece is
present."

And again he pointed to Enrica, whose head was bent down over her
work.

"Ha! ha!" was all the reply vouchsafed by the marchesa, followed by
a scornful laugh. "I shall say what I please in my own house. Poor
Cesarino! You are very ignorant. I pity you!"

But Trenta was not there--he had rushed down-stairs as quickly as his
old legs and his stick would carry him, and was out of hearing. At the
mention of Nobili's name Enrica looked stealthily from under her long
eyelashes, and turned very white. The sharp eyes of her aunt might
have detected it had she been less engrossed by her passage of arms
with the cavaliere.

"Ha! ha!" she repeated, grimly laughing to herself. "He is gone! Poor
old soul! But I am going to have my rubber for all that.--Ring the
bell, Enrica. He must come back. Trenta takes too much upon himself;
he is always interfering."

As Enrica rose to obey her aunt, the sound of feet was heard in the
anteroom. The marchesa made a sign to her to reseat herself, which she
did in the same place as before, behind the thick cotton curtains of
the Venetian casement.

CHAPTER VII.

COUNT MARESCOTTI.

Count Marescotti, the Red count (the marchesa had said _sans-culotte_;
Trenta had spoken of him as an atheist), was, unhappily, something
of all this, but he was much more. He was a poet, an orator, and a
patriot. Nature had gifted him with qualities for each vocation. He
had a rich, melodious voice, with soft inflections; large dark eyes,
that kindled with the impress of every emotion; finely-cut features,
and a pale, bloodless face, that tells of a passionate nature. His
manners were gracious, and he had a commanding presence. He was born
to be a leader a