Saracinesca looked up from under his bushy brows and laughed
and said that his grandson was in love, he thought no more of what he
said than if he had remarked that Orsino's beard was growing or that
Giovanni's was turning grey. But Corona's pretty fancies received a
shock from which they never recovered again, and though she did her best
to call them back they lost all their reality from that hour. The plain
fact that at one and twenty years the boy is a man, though a very young
one, was made suddenly clear to her, and she was faced by another fact
still more destructive of her ideals, namely, that a man is not to be
kept from falling in love, when and where he is so inclined, by any
personal influence whatsoever. She knew that well enough, and the
supposition that his first young passion might be for Madame d'Aranjuez
was by no means comforting. Corona immediately felt an interest in that
lady which she had not felt before and which was not altogether
friendly.

It seemed to her necessary in the first place to find out something
definite concerning Maria Consuelo, and this was no easy matter. She
communicated her wish to her husband when they were alone that evening.

"I know nothing about her," answered Giovanni. "And I do not know any
one who does. After all it is of very little importance."

"What if he falls seriously in love with this woman?"

"We will send him round the world. At his age that will cure anything.
When he comes back Madame d'Aranjuez will have retired to the chaos of
the unknown out of which Orsino has evolved her."

"She does not look the kind of woman to disappear at the right moment,"
observed Corona doubtfully.

Giovanni was at that moment supremely comfortable, both in mind and
body. It was late. The old prince had gone to his own quarters, the boys
were in bed, and Orsino was presumably at a party or at the club. Sant'
Ilario was enjoying the delight of spending an hour alone in his wife's
society. They were in Corona's old boudoir, a place full of associations
for them both. He did not want to be mentally disturbed. He said nothing
in answer to his wife's remark. She repeated it in a different form.

"Women like her do not disappear when one does not want them," she said.

"What makes you think so?" inquired Giovanni with a man's irritating
indolence when he does not mean to grasp a disagreeable idea.

"I know it," Corona answered, resting her chin upon her hand and staring
at the