Corona was at her mid-day breakfast with Sister Gabrielle, when the old Prince’s card was brought.  She started at the sight of the name; and though upon the bit of pasteboard she read plainly enough, “Il Principe di Saracinesca,” she hesitated, and asked the butler if it was really the Prince.  He said it was.

“Would you mind seeing him?” she asked of Sister Gabrielle.  “He is an old gentleman,” she added, in explanation—­“a near neighbour here in the mountains.”

Sister Gabrielle had no objection.  She even remarked that it would do the Duchessa good to see some one.

“Ask the Prince to come in, and put another place at the table,” said Corona.

A moment later the old man entered, and Corona rose to receive him.  There was something refreshing in the ring of his deep voice and the clank of his spurs as he crossed the marble floor.

“Signora Duchessa, you are very good to receive me.  I did not know that this was your breakfast-hour.  Ah!” he exclaimed, glancing at Sister Gabrielle, who had also risen to her feet, “good day, my Sister.”

“Sister Gabrielle,” said Corona, as an introduction; “she is good enough to be my companion in solitude.”

To tell the truth, Corona felt uneasy; but the sensation was somehow rather pleasurable, although it crossed her mind that the Prince might have heard of her excursion, and had possibly come to find out why she had been so near to his place.  She boldly faced the situation.

“I nearly came upon you the other day as unexpectedly as you have visited me,” she said with a smile.  “I had a fancy to look over into your valley, and when I reached the top of the hill I found I was almost in your house.”

“I wish you had quite been there,” returned the Prince.  “Of course I heard that you had been seen, and we guessed you had stumbled upon us in some mountain excursion.  My son rode all the way to Aquaviva to see the man who had spoken with you.”

Saracinesca said this as though it were perfectly natural, helping himself to the dish the servant offered him.  But when he looked up he saw that Corona blushed beneath her dark skin.

“It is such a very sudden view at that point,” she said, nervously, “that I was startled.”

“I wish you had preserved your equanimity to the extent of going a little further.  Saracinesca has rarely been honoured with the visit of a Duchessa d’Astrardente.  But since you have explained your visit—­or the visit which you did not make—­I ought to explain mine.  You must know, in the first place, that I am not here by accident, but by intention, preconceived, well pondered, and finally executed to my own complete satisfaction.  I came, not to get a glimpse of your valley nor a distant view of your palace, but to see you, yourself.  Your hospitality in receiving me has therefore crowned and complimented the desire I had of seeing you.”

Corona laughed a little.