turedly
as the first, remarking that he had been bred for an archeologist and
had never lost his taste for the antique.

Odo's servants now appearing with a pasty of beccafichi, some bottles of
old Malaga and a tray of ices and fruits, the three seated themselves at
the table, which Mirandolina had decorated with a number of wax candles
stuck in the cut-glass bottles of the Count's dressing-case. Here they
were speedily joined by the actress's monkey and parrot, who had soon
spread devastation among the dishes. While Miranda was restoring order
by boxing the monkey's ears and feeding the shrieking bird from her
lips, the door opened to admit the prima amorosa, a lady whose mature
charms and mellifluous manner suggested a fine fruit preserved in syrup.
The newcomer was clearly engrossed in captivating the Count, and the
latter amply justified his nick-name by the cynical complaisance with
which he cleared the way for Odo by responding to her advances.

The tete-a-tete thus established, Miranda at once began to excuse
herself for the means she had taken to attract Odo's attention at the
theatre. She had heard from the innkeeper that the Duke of Pianura's
cousin, the Cavaliere Valsecca, was expected that day in Vercelli; and
seeing in the Piazza a young gentleman in travelling-dress and French
toupet, had at once guessed him to be the distinguished stranger from
Turin. At the theatre she had been much amused by the air of
apprehension with which Odo had appeared to seek, among the dowdy or
vulgar inmates of the boxes, the sender of the mysterious billet; and
the contrast between the elegant gentleman in embroidered coat and
gold-hilted sword, and the sleepy bewildered little boy of the midnight
feast at Chivasso, had seized her with such comic effect that she could
not resist a playful allusion to their former meeting. All this was set
forth with so sprightly an air of mock-contrition that, had Odo felt the
least resentment, it must instantly have vanished. He was, however, in
the humour to be pleased by whatever took his mind off his own affairs,
and none could be more skilled than Mirandolina in profiting by such a
mood.

He pressed her to tell him something of what had befallen her since they
had met, but she replied by questioning him about his own experiences,
and on learning that he had been called to Pianura on account of the
heir's ill-health she declared it was notorious that the little prince
had not long to l