good-looking enough to be called handsome.  She had the talent to make herself a sort of centre in her world.  She was a little noisy; but noise was fashionable, and there was no harm in her—­no one had ever said anything against her.  Besides, she was one of the few relations still left to the Saracinesca.  The daughter of a cousin of the Prince, she would make a good wife for Giovanni, and would bring sunshine into the house.  There was a tinge of vulgarity in her manner; but, like many elderly men of his type, Saracinesca pardoned her this fault in consideration of her noisy good spirits and general good-nature.  He was very much annoyed at hearing that his son had offended her so grossly by his forgetfulness; especially it was unfortunate that since she believed herself the cause of the duel, she should have the impression that it had been provoked by Del Ferice to obtain satisfaction for the insult Giovanni had offered her.  There would be small chance of making the match contemplated after such an affair.

“I am sincerely sorry,” said the Prince, stroking his white beard and trying to get a sight of his companion’s face, which she obstinately turned away from him.  “Perhaps it is better not to think too much of the matter until the exact circumstances are known.  Some one is sure to tell the story one of these days.”

“How coldly you speak of it!  One would think it had happened in Peru, instead of here, this very morning.”

Saracinesca was at his wits’ end.  He wanted to smooth the matter over, or at least to soften the unfavourable impression against Giovanni.  He had not the remotest idea how to do it.  He was not a very diplomatic man.

“No, no; you misunderstand me.  I am not cold.  I quite appreciate your situation.  You are very justly annoyed.”

“Of course I am,” said Donna Tullia impatiently.  She was beginning to regret that she had made him get into her carriage.

“Precisely; of course you are.  Now, so soon as Giovanni is quite recovered, I will send him to explain his conduct to you if he can, or to—­”

“Explain it?  How can he explain it?  I do not want you to send him, if he will not come of his own accord.  Why should I?”

“Well, well, as you please, my dear cousin,” said old Saracinesca, smiling to cover his perplexity.  “I am not a good ambassador; but you know I am a good friend, and I really want to do something to restore Giovanni to your graces.”

“That will be difficult,” answered Donna Tullia, although she knew very well that she would receive Giovanni kindly enough when she had once had an opportunity of speaking her mind to him.

“Do not be hard-hearted,” urged the Prince.  “I am sure he is very penitent.”

“Then let him say so.”

“That is exactly what I ask.”

“Is it?  Oh, very well.  If he chooses to call I will receive him, since you desire it.  Where shall I put you down?”