Sant' Ilario

by F. Marion Crawford

  CHAPTER XVII.

  San Giacinto and Flavia were married on Saturday the thirtieth ofNovember, thereby avoiding the necessity of paying a fee for beingunited during Advent, much to the satisfaction of Prince Montevarchi.The wedding was a brilliant affair, and if the old prince's hospitalityleft something to be desired, the display of liveries, coaches andfamily silver was altogether worthy of so auspicious an occasion.Everybody was asked, and almost everybody went, from the Saracinesca toAnastase Gouache, from Valdarno to Arnoldo Meschini. Even Spicca wasthere, as melancholy as usual, but evidently interested in theproceedings. He chanced to find himself next to Gouache in the crowd.

  "I did not expect to see you here," he remarked.

  "I have been preserved from a variety of dangers in order to assist atthe ceremony," answered the Zouave, with a laugh. "At one time Ithought it more likely that I should be the person of importance at afuneral."

  "So did I. However, it could not be helped." Spicca did not smile.

  "You seem to regret it," observed Gouache, who knew his companion'seccentric nature.

  "Only on general principles. For the rest, I am delighted to see you.Come and breakfast with me when this affair is over. We will drink tothe happiness of two people who will certainly be very unhappy beforelong."

  "Ourselves?"

  "No. The bride and bridegroom. 'Ye, who enter, leave all hope behind!'How can people be so foolish as to enter into an engagement from whichthere is no issue? The fools are not all dead yet."

  "I am one of them," replied Gouache.

  "You will probably have your wish. Providence has evidently preservedyou from sudden death in order to destroy you by lingering torture. Isthe wedding day fixed?"

  "I wish it were."

  "And the bride?"

  "How can I tell?"

  "Do you mean to say that, as an opinion, you would rather be marriedthan not? The only excuse for the folly of marrying is the stillgreater folly of loving a woman enough to marry her. Of course, a manwho is capable of that, is capable of anything. Here comes the bridewith her father. Think of being tied to her until a merciful death partyou. Think of being son-in-law to that old man, until heaven shall bepleased to remove him. Think of calling that stout English lady,mother-in-law, until she is at last overtaken by apoplexy. Think ofcalling all those relations brothers and sisters, Ascanio, Onorato,Andrea, Isabella, Bianca, Faustina! It is a day's work to learn theirnames and titles. She wears a veil--to hide her satisfaction--a wreathof orange flowers, artificial, too, made of paper and paste and wire,symbols of innocence, of course, pliable and easily patched together.She looks down, lest the priest should see that her eyes are laughing.Her father is whispering words of comfort and encouragement into herear. 'Mind your expression,' he is saying, no doubt--'you must not lookas though you were being sacrificed, nor as though you were too glad tobe married, for everybody is watching you. Do not say, I will, tooloudly nor inaudibly either, and remember that you are my daughter.'Very good advice. Now she kneels down and he crosses to the other side.She bends her head very low. She is looking under her elbow to see thefolds of her train. You see--she moves her heel to make the gown fallbetter--I told you so. A pretty figure, all in white, before the greataltar with the lights, and the priest in his robes, and the organplaying, and that Hercules in a black coat for a husband. Now she looksup. The rings are there on the gold salver upon the altar. She has notseen hers, and is wondering whether it is of plain gold, or a band ofdiamonds, like the Princess Valdarno's. Now then--ego conjungo vos--thedevil, my friend, it is an awful sight!"

  "Cynic!" muttered Gouache, with a suppressed laugh.

  "There--it is done now, and she is already thinking what it will belike to dine alone with him this evening, and several thousand eveningshereafter. Cynic, you say? There are no more cynics. They are allmarried, and must turn stoics if they can. Let us be off. No--there ismass. Well then, go down on your knees and pray for their souls, forthey are in a bad case. Marriage is Satan's hot-house for poisonousweeds. If anything can make a devil of an innocent girl it is marriage.If anything can turn an honest man into a fiend it is matrimony. Prayfor them, poor creatures, if there is any available praying power leftin you, after attending to the wants of your own soul, which,considering your matrimonial intentions, I should think veryimprobable."

  Gouache looked at his companion curiously, for Spicca's virulenceastonished him. He was not at all intimate with the man and had neverheard him express his views so clearly upon any subject. Unlike mostpeople, he was not in the least afraid of the melancholy Italian.

  "From the way you talk," he remarked, "one might almost imagine thatyou had been married yourself."

  Spicca looked at him with an odd expression, in which there wassurprise as well as annoyance, and instead of making any answer,crossed himself and knelt down upon the marble pavement. Gouachefollowed his example instinctively.

  Half an hour later the crowd moved slowly out of the church, and thosewho had carriages waited in the huge vestibule while the long line ofequipages moved up to the gates. Gouache escaped from Spicca in thehope of getting a sight of Faustina before she drove away with hermother in one of the numerous Montevarchi coaches. Sant' Ilario andCorona were standing by one of the pillars, conversing in low tones.

  "Montevarchi looked as though he knew it," said Giovanni.

  "What?" asked Corona, quietly.

  "That his daughter is the future Princess Saracinesca."

  "It remains to be seen whether he is right."

  Gouache had been pushed by the crowd into one of the angles of thepilaster while the two speakers stood before one of the four pillars ofwhich it was built up. The words astonished him so much that he forcedhis way out until he could see the Princess of Sant' Ilario's beautifulprofile dark against the bright light of the street. She was stillspeaking, but he could no longer hear her voice, some acousticpeculiarity of the columns had in all probability been the means ofconveying to him the fragment of conversation he had overheard.Avoiding recognition, he slipped away through an opening in the throngand just succeeded in reaching the gate as the first of the Montevarchicarriages drew up. The numerous members of the family were gathered onthe edge of the crowd, and Gouache managed to speak a few words withFaustina.

  The girl's delicate face lighted up when she was conscious of hispresence, and she turned her eyes lovingly to his. They met often nowin public, though San Giacinto did his best to keep them apart.

  "Here is a secret," said Gouache in a quick whisper. "I have just heardSant' Ilario telling his wife that your sister is the future PrincessSaracinesca. What does it mean?"

  Faustina looked at him in the utmost astonishment. It was clear thatshe knew nothing of the matter at present.

  "You must have heard wrong," she answered.

  "Will you come to early mass to-morrow?" he asked hurriedly, for he hadno time to lose.

  "I will try--if it is possible. It will be easier now that San Giacintois to be away. He knows everything, I am sure."

  "San Giacinto?" It was Gouache's turn to be astonished. Butexplanations were impossible in such a crowd, and Faustina was alreadymoving away.

  "Say nothing about what I have told you," Anastase whispered as sheleft him. She bowed her lovely head in silence and passed on.

  And so the Marchese di San Giacinto took Flavia Montevarchi for hiswife, and all Rome looked on and smiled, and told imaginary stories ofhis former life, acknowledging, nevertheless, that Flavia had done verywell--the stock phrase--since there was no doubt whatever but that thegigantic bridegroom was the cousin of the Saracinesca, and rich intothe bargain. Amidst all the gossip and small talk no one, however, wasfound who possessed enough imagination to foretell what in reality wasvery imminent, namely, that the Marchese might turn out to be theprince.

  The last person to suspect such a revelation was San Giacinto himself.He had indeed at one time entertained some hopes of pushing forward aclaim which was certainly founded upon justice if not
upon good law,but since Montevarchi had kept the documents relating to the case formany days, and had then returned them without mentioning the subject tohis future son-in-law, the latter had thought it wiser to let thematter rest for the present, shrewdly suspecting that such a man asMontevarchi would not readily let such an opportunity of enriching hisown daughter slip through his fingers. It has been already seen thatMontevarchi purposely prevented San Giacinto from seeing the papers inorder that he might be in reality quite innocent of any complicity inthe matter when the proceedings were instituted, a point very importantfor the success of the suit.

  Half an hour afterwards San Giacinto was closeted with the old princein the latter's study, which looked more than usually dismal bycontrast with the brilliant assemblage in the drawing-rooms.

  "Now that we are alone, my dear son," began Montevarchi, who for awonder had not changed his coat since the ceremony, "now that you arereally my son, I have an important communication to make."

  San Giacinto sat down and any one might have seen from the expressionof his square jaw and determined mouth that he was prepared for battle.He did not trust his father-in-law in the least, and would not havebeen surprised if he had made an attempt to get back the money he hadpaid into the lawyer's hands as Flavia's dowry. But San Giacinto hadtaken all precautions and knew very well that he could not be cheated.Montevarchi continued in a bland voice.

  "I have kept the matter as a surprise for you," he said. "You have ofcourse been very busy during these last weeks in making yourpreparations for the solemn ceremony at which we have just assisted. Itwas therefore impossible for you to attend to the multifarious detailswhich it has been my care, my privilege, to sift and examine. For it isa privilege we should value highly to labour for those we love, forthose with whom we share our dearest affections. I am now about tocommunicate to you an affair of the highest importance, which, whenbrought to a successful termination will exercise a tremendousinfluence over all your life. Let me say beforehand, however, and lestyou should suspect me of any unworthy motives, that I expect no thanks,nor any share in the immense triumph in store for you. Do not besurprised if I use somewhat strong language on such an occasion. I haveexamined everything, preserved everything, taken the best legal advice,and consulted those without whose spiritual counsel I enter upon noweighty undertaking. My dear son, you, and none other, are the real andrightful Prince Saracinesca."

  The climax to the long preamble was so unexpected that San Giacintouttered a loud exclamation of surprise.

  "Do not be amazed at what I have told you," said Montevarchi. "Thedocuments upon which the claims of the Saracinesca rest were drawn upby a wise man. Although he had not at that time any intention ofmarrying, he was aware that with heaven all things are possible, andintroduced a clause to the effect that if he should marry and leaveheirs direct of his body, the whole deed was to be null, void andineffectual. I do not know enough of your family history to understandwhy neither he nor his son nor his grandson ever made any attempt torecover their birthright, but I know enough of law to affirm that theclause is still good. It is identical"--the prince smiledpleasantly--"it is identical in the original and in the copy preservedin the Chancery archives. In my opinion you have only to present thetwo documents before a competent court, in order to obtain a unanimousverdict in your favour."

  San Giacinto looked hard from under his overhanging brows at the oldman's keen face. Then, suddenly, he stuck his heavy fist into the palmof his left hand, and rose from his chair, a gleam of savage triumph inhis eyes. For some time he paced the room in silence.

  "I wish Giovanni no ill, nor his father either," he said at last.

  "Heaven forbid!" exclaimed Montevarchi, crossing himself. "And besides,as the property is all yours, that would be of no use."

  San Giacinto stared a minute, and then his deep voice rang out in ahearty laugh. He had an intimate conviction that his devoutfather-in-law was quite capable, not only of wishing evil to hisneighbour, but of putting his wishes into execution if his interestscould be advanced thereby.

  "No," he said, when his merriment had subsided, "I wish them no evil.But, after all, they must know what is contained in the papers theyhave in their possession, and they must know that I am the prince, andthat they have kept me out of my inheritance. I will go and tell themso. Since there is no doubt about the case, I do not see why I shouldwait."

  "Nor I," answered Montevarchi, with the air of a man who has done hispart and expects others to finish what he has begun.

  "It is fortunate that we have decided to go to Frascati instead ofmaking a journey to the end of Europe. Not but that, as I have neverseen Paris, I would have liked the trip well enough."

  "You will find Paris pleasanter when you are Prince Saracinesca."

  "That is true," replied San Giacinto, thoughtfully. There was the deeplight of anticipated triumph in his eyes. "Will you see that the properpreliminary steps are taken?" he asked presently.

  "I will engage lawyers for you. But you will have to do the restyourself. The lawyers might go out and talk it over with you inFrascati. After all, you are a young man of good sense, and will nothave any sentiment about being alone with your wife."

  "For the matter of that, I anticipate much pleasure in the society ofmy wife, but when there is so much meat boiling, somebody must watchthe pot, as we used to say in Naples. I am a practical man, you know."

  "Ah, that is a great quality, one of the very greatest! If I had spentmy life in a perpetual honeymoon with the princess, Casa Montevarchiwould not be what it is, my son. I have always given my best attentionto the affairs of my household, and I expect that you will continue thetradition."

  "Never fear! If, by continuing the tradition, you mean that I shouldget what is mine, I will not disappoint you. Can you tell me when thecase can be tried, and in what court it will be heard?"

  "With my influence," replied Montevarchi, "the case may be put throughat once. A month will suffice for the preliminaries, a day for thehearing. Everything is settled at once by the exhibition of thedocuments which provide for you in the most explicit terms. You cancome in from the country and see them for yourself if you please. But Iconsider that quite unnecessary. The lawyers will settle everything."

  "Pardon my curiosity, but I would like to know why you thought it bestnot to tell me anything of the matter until now."

  "My dear son, you were so busy with the preparations for your marriage,and the questions involved seemed at first so doubtful that I thoughtit best not to trouble you with them. Then, when I knew the whole truththe time was so near that I preferred to give you the information as asort of wedding present."

  "A magnificent one indeed, for which I cannot find words to express mygratitude."

  "No, no! Do not talk of gratitude. I feel that I am fulfilling a sacredduty in restoring to the fatherless his birthright. It is an act ofdivine justice for the execution of which I have been chosen as thehumble instrument. Do your duty by my dear daughter, and render yourgratitude to heaven--quoe sunt Coesaris, Coesari, et quoe sunt Dei,Deo! Would that we could all live by that rule!"

  "To Saracinesca what is his, and to San Giacinto that which belongs tohim--that is what you mean?"

  "Yes, my good son. I am glad to see that you understand Latin. It doesyou credit that amidst the misfortunes of your early life you shouldhave so improved yourself as to possess the education necessary to thehigh rank you are about to assume. I tell you frankly that, in spite ofyour personal qualities, in spite of the great name and possessionswhich will soon be yours, if I had not distinguished in you thatrefinement and instruction without which no gentleman is worthy of thename, I would not have bestowed upon you the hand of that sweetcreature whom I have cherished as a flower in the house of my old age."

  San Giacinto had made a study of old Montevarchi during a month past,and was not in the least deceived by his rounded periods and wellexpressed moral sentiments. But he smiled and bowed, enjoying the ideaof attributing such flattery to himself
in proportion as he felt thathe was unworthy of it. He had indeed done his best to acquire a certainamount of instruction, as his father-in-law called it, and his tasteswere certainly not so coarse as might have been expected, but he wastoo strong a man to be easily deceived concerning his own powers, andhe knew well enough that he owed his success to his fortune. He saw,too, that Montevarchi, in giving him Flavia, had foreseen thepossibility of his claiming the rights of his cousins, and if he hadnot been thoroughly satisfied with his choice he would have now feltthat he had been deceived. He had no regrets, however, for he felt thateven had he already enjoyed the titles and wealth he was so soon toclaim, he would nevertheless have chosen Flavia for his wife. Of allthe young girls he had seen in Rome she was the only one who reallyattracted him; a fact due, perhaps, to her being more natural than therest, or at least more like what he thought a woman should naturallybe. His rough nature would not have harmonised with Faustina'scharacter; still less could he have understood and appreciated a womanlike Corona, who was indeed almost beyond the comprehension ofGiovanni, her own husband. San Giacinto was almost a savage, comparedwith the young men of the class to which he now belonged, and there wassomething wild and half-tamed in Flavia Montevarchi which, hadfascinated him from the first, and held him by that side of histemperament by which alone savages are governed.

  Had the bringing of the suit been somewhat hastened it is notimpossible that San Giacinto and his wife might have driven up to theancient towers of Saracinesca on that Saturday afternoon, as Giovanniand Corona had done on their wedding day two years and a half earlier.As it was, they were to go out to Frascati to spend a week inMontevarchi's villa, as the prince and princess and all their marriedchildren had done before them.

  "Eh! what a satisfaction!" exclaimed Flavia, with a sigh of relief asthe carriage rolled out of the deep archway under the palace. Then shelaughed a little and looked up at her husband out of the corners of herbright black eyes, after which she produced a very pretty silverscent-bottle which her mother had put into her hand as a parting gift.She looked at it, turned it round, opened it and at last smelled thecontents.

  "Ugh!" she cried, shutting it up quickly and making a wry face. "It isfull of salts--horrible! I thought it was something good to smell! Didshe think I was going to faint on the way?"

  "You do not look like fainting," remarked San Giacinto, who lookedgigantic in a wide fur pelisse. He put out his great hand, which closedwith a sort of rough tenderness over hers, completely hiding it as wellas the smelling-bottle she held. "So it is a satisfaction, is it?" heasked, with a gleam of pleasure in his deep-set eyes.

  "If you had been educated under the supervision of the eccellentissimacasa Montevarchi, you would understand what a blessed institutionmarriage is! You--what shall I call you--your name is Giovanni, is itnot?"

  "Yes--Giovanni. Do you like the name?"

  "No--it reminds me of the head of John the Baptist. I will callyou--let me see--Nino. Yes--that sounds so small, and you are soimmensely big. You are Nino, in future. I am glad you are big. I do notlike little men." She nestled close to the giant, with a laugh thatpleased him.

  San Giacinto suddenly found that he was very much more in love than hehad supposed. His life had been very full of contrasts, but this wasthe greatest which had yet presented itself. He remembered a brightsummer's morning a few years earlier, when he had walked back from thechurch in Aquila with Felice Baldi by his side. Poor Felice! She hadworn a very pretty black silk frock with a fine gold chain around herneck, and a veil upon her head, for she was not of the class "that wearhats," as they say in Rome. But she had forced her stout hands intogloves, and Giovanni the innkeeper had been somewhat proud of herladylike appearance. Her face was very red and there were tears ofpleasure and timidity in her eyes, which he remembered very well. Itwas strange that she, too, should have been proud of her husband's sizeand strength. Perhaps all women were very much alike. How well heremembered the wedding collation, the little yellow cakes with a dropof hard pink sugar in the middle of each, the bottles of sweet cordialof various flavours, cinnamon, clove, aniseseed and the like, thebright red japanned tray, and the cheaply gaudy plates whereon werepainted all manner of impossible flowers.

  Felice was dead, buried in the campo santo of Aquila, with itswhitewashed walls of enclosure and its appalling monuments and mortuaryemblems. Poor Felice! She had been a good wife, and he had been a goodhusband to her. She was such a simple creature that he could almostfancy her spirit shedding tears of satisfied pride at seeing herGiovanni married to a princess, rich and about to be metamorphosed intoa prince himself. She had known that he was a Marchese of a greatfamily, and had often begged him to let her be called the SignoraMarchesa. But he had always told her that for people in their positionit was absurd. They were not poor for their station; indeed, they wereamong the wealthiest of their class in Aquila. He had promised toassert his title when they should be rich enough, but poor Felice haddied too soon. Then had come that great day when Giovanni had won inthe lottery--Giovanni who had never played before and had all his lifecalled it a waste of money and a public robbery. But, playing once, hehad played high, and all his numbers had appeared on the followingSaturday. Two hundred thousand francs in a day! Such luck only falls tothe lot of men who are born under destiny. Giovanni had long known whathe should do if he only possessed the capital. The winnings were paidin cash, and in a fortnight he had taken up a government contract inthe province of Aquila. Then came another and another. Everythingturned to gold in his hands, and in two years he was a rich man.

  Alone in the world, with his two little boys, and possessed ofconsiderable wealth, the longing had come over him to take the positionto which he had a legitimate right, a position which, he supposed,would not interfere with his increasing his fortune if he wished to doso. He had left the children under the supervision of old Don Paolo,the curate, and had come to Rome, where he had lodged in an obscurehotel until he had fitted himself to appear before his cousins as agentleman. His grave temper, indomitable energy, and natural astutenesshad done the rest, and fortune had crowned all his efforts. The oldblood of the Saracinesca had grown somewhat coarse by the admixture ofa stream very far from blue; but if it had lost in some respects it hadgained in others, and the type was not wholly low. Thebroad-shouldered, dark-complexioned giant was not altogether unworthyof the ancient name, and he knew it as his wife nestled to his side. Heloved the wild element in her, but most of all he loved thethoroughbred stamp of her face, the delicacy of her small hands, thearistocratic ring of her laughter, for these all told him that, afterthree generations of obscurity he had risen again to the level whencehis fathers had fallen.

  The change in his life became very dear to him, as all these thingspassed quickly through his mind; and with the consciousness of vividcontrast came the certainty that he loved Flavia far better than he hadbelieved possible.

  "And what shall I call you?" he asked, rather bluntly. He did not quiteknow whether it would be wise to use any term of endearment or not.Indeed, this was the weak point in his experience, but he supplementedthe deficiency by a rough tenderness which was far from disagreeable toFlavia.

  "Anything you like, dear," she answered. San Giacinto felt the bloodrush to his head with pleasure as he heard the epithet.

  "Anything?" he asked, with a very unwonted tremour in his voice.

  "Anything--provided you will love me," she replied. He thought he hadnever seen such wicked, fascinating eyes. He drew her face to his andlooked into them a moment, his own blazing suddenly with a passionwholly new to him.

  "I will not call you anything--instead of calling you, I will kissyou--so--is it not better than any name?"

  A deep blush spread over Flavia's face and then subsided suddenly,leaving her very pale. For a long time neither spoke again.

  "Did your father tell you the news before we left?" asked San Giacintoat last, when they were rolling over the Campagna along the Via Latina.

  "No--what?"

 
"It is somewhat remarkable news. If you are afraid of fainting," headded, with rough humour, "hold your bottle of salts ready."

  Flavia looked up uneasily, wondering whether there were anything wrongabout San Giacinto. She knew very well that her father had been glad toget rid of her.

  "I am not San Giacinto after all," he said quietly. Flavia started anddrew back.

  "Who are you then?" she asked quickly.

  "I am Prince Saracinesca, and you are the princess." He spoke verycalmly, and watched her face to see the effect of the news.

  "I wish you were!" she exclaimed nervously. She wondered whether he wasgoing mad.

  "There seems to be no doubt about it," he answered, "your fatherinformed me of the fact as a wedding present. He has examined all thepapers and will send the lawyers out to Frascati to prepare the casewith me."

  He told her the whole story in detail. As he proceeded, a singularexpression came into Flavia's face, and when he had finished she brokeout into voluble expressions of joy.

  "I always knew that I was born to be a princess--I mean a real one! Howcould I be anything else? Oh! I am so happy, and you are such a darlingto be a prince! And to think that if papa had not discovered thepapers, those horrid Sant' Ilario people would have had everything.Princess Saracinesca! Eh, but how it sounds! Almost as good as Orsini,and much nicer with you, you great big, splendid lion! Why did they notcall you Leone? It is too good to be true! And I always hated Corona,ever since I was a little girl and she was the Astrardente, because sheused to say I did not behave well and that Faustina was muchprettier--I heard her say so when I was behind the curtains. Why didyou not find it out ever so long ago? Think what a wedding we shouldhave had, just like Sant' Ilario's! But it was very fine after all, andof course there is nothing to complain of. Evviva! Evviva! Do give meone of those cigarettes--I never smoked in my life, and I am so happythat I know it will not hurt me!"

  San Giacinto had his case in his hand, and laughed as he presented itto her. Quiet as he was in his manner he was far the happier of thetwo, as he was far more capable of profound feeling than the wild girlwho was now his wife. He was glad, too, to see that she was sothoroughly delighted, for he knew well enough that even after he hadgained the suit he would need the support of an ambitious woman tostrengthen his position. He did not believe that the Saracinesca wouldsubmit tamely to such a tremendous shock of fortune, and he foresawthat their resentment would probably be shared by a great number oftheir friends.

  Flavia looked prettier than ever as she put the bit of rolled paperbetween her red lips and puffed away with an energy altogetherunnecessary. He would not have believed that, being already sobrilliant and good to see, a piece of unexpected good news could havelent her expression so much more brightness. She was positivelyradiant, as she looked from his eyes at her little cigarette, and then,looking back to him again, laughed and snapped her small gloved fingers.

  "Do you know," she said presently, with a glance that completed theconquest of San Giacinto's heart, "I thought I should be dreadfully shywith you--at first--and I am not in the least! I confess, at the verymoment when you were putting the ring on my finger I was wondering whatwe should talk about during the drive."

  "You did not think we should have such an agreeable subject ofconversation, did you?"

  "No--and it is such a pretty ring! I always wanted a band ofdiamonds--plain gold is so common. Did you think of it yourself or didsome one else suggest the idea?"

  "Castellani said it was old-fashioned," answered San Giacinto, "but Ipreferred it."

  "Would you have liked one, too?"

  "No. It would be ridiculous for a man."

  "You have very good taste," remarked Flavia, eyeing him critically."Where did you get it? You used to keep a hotel in Aquila, did you not?"

  San Giacinto had long been prepared for the question and did not wincenor show the slightest embarrassment. He smiled calmly as he answeredher.

  "You would hardly have called it a hotel, it was a country inn. Idaresay I shall manage Saracinesca all the better for having kept ahostelry."

  "Of course. Oh, I have such a delightful idea! Let us go to Aquila andkeep the hotel together. It would be such fun! You could say you hadmarried a little shop-keeper's daughter in Rome, you know. Just for amonth, Nino--do let us do it! It would be such a change after society,and then we would go back for the Carnival. Oh, do!"

  "But you forget the lawsuit--"

  "That is true. Besides, it will be just as much of a change to bePrincess Saracinesca. But we can do it another time. I would like somuch to go about in an apron with a red cotton handkerchief on my headand see all the queer people! When are the lawyers coming?"

  "During the week, I suppose."

  "There will be a fight," said Flavia, her face growing more grave."What will Sant' Ilario and his father say and do? I cannot believethat it will all go so smoothly as you think. They do not look likepeople who would give up easily what they have had so long. I supposethey will be quite ruined."

  "I do not know. Corona is rich in her own right, and Sant' Ilario hashis mother's fortune. Of course, they will be poor compared with theirpresent wealth. I am sorry for them--"

  "Sorry?" Flavia looked at her husband in some astonishment. "It istheir own fault. Why should you be sorry?"

  "It is not exactly their fault. I could hardly have expected them tocome to me and inform me that a mistake had been made in the lastcentury, and that all they possessed was mine."

  "All they possessed!" echoed Flavia, thoughtfully. "What a wonderfulidea it is!"

  "Very wonderful," assented San Giacinto, who was thinking once more ofhis former poverty.

  The carriage rolled on and both were silent for some time, absorbed indreaming of the greatness which was before them in the near future, SanGiacinto enumerating in his mind the titles and estates which were soonto be his, while Flavia imagined herself in Corona's place in Rome,grown suddenly to be a central figure in society, leading andorganising the brilliant amusements of her world, and above all,rejoicing in that lavish use of abundant money which had always seemedto her the most desirable of all enjoyments.