“I did,” said old Saracinesea, stoutly.  “I wanted Giovanni to marry her.  It has pleased Providence to avert that awful catastrophe.  I liked Madame Mayer because she was rich and noisy and good-looking, and I thought that, as Giovanni’s wife, she would make the house gay.  We are such a pair of solemn bears together, that it seemed appropriate that somebody should make us dance.  It was a foolish idea, I confess, though I thought it very beautiful at the time.  It merely shows how liable we are to make mistakes.  Imagine Giovanni married to a lunatic!”

“I repeat that she is not mad,” said Giovanni.  “I cannot tell how they have managed it, but I am sure it has been managed well, and will give us trouble.  You will see.”

“I do not understand at all how there can be any trouble about it,” said Corona, proudly.  “It is perfectly simple for us to tell the truth, and to show that what they say is a lie.  You can prove easily enough that you were in Canada at the time.  I wish it were time for her to come.  Let us go to breakfast in the meanwhile.”

The views taken by the three were characteristic of their various natures.  The old Prince, who was violent of temper, and inclined always to despise an enemy in any shape, scoffed at the idea that there was anything to show; and though his natural wit suggested from time to time that there was a plot against his son, his general opinion was, that it was a singular case of madness.  He hardly believed Donna Tullia would appear at all; and if she did, he expected some extraordinary outburst, some pitiable exhibition of insanity.  Corona, on the other hand, maintained a proud indifference, scorning to suppose that anything could possibly injure Giovanni in any way, loving him too entirely to admit that he was vulnerable at all, still less that he could possibly have done anything to give colour to the accusation brought against him.  Giovanni alone of all the three foresaw that there would be trouble, and dimly guessed how the thing had been done; for he did not fall into his father’s error of despising an enemy, and he had seen too much of the world not to understand that danger is often greatest when the appearance of it is least.

Breakfast was hardly over when Donna Tullia was announced.  All rose to meet her, and all looked at her with equal interest.  She was calmer than on the previous day, and she carried a package of papers in her hand.  Her red lips were compressed, and her eyes looked defiantly round upon all present.  Whatever might be her faults, she was not a coward when brought face to face with danger.  She was determined to carry the matter through, both because she knew that she had no other alternative, and because she believed herself to be doing a righteous act, which, at the same time, fully satisfied her desire for vengeance.  She came forward boldly and stood beside the table in the midst of the room.  Corona was upon one side of the fireplace, and the two Saracinesea upon the other.  All three held their breath in expectation of what Donna Tullia was about to say; the sense of her importance impressed her, and her love of dramatic situations being satisfied, she assumed something of the air of a theatrical avenging angel, and her utterance was rhetorical.