The impression produced on the Duchess by the cavaliere Valsecca was closely observed by several members of the group surrounding her Highness.  One of these was Count Trescorre, who moved among the courtiers with an air of ease that seemed to establish without proclaiming the tie between himself and the Duchess.  When Maria Clementina sat down at play, Trescorre joined Odo and with his usual friendliness pointed out the most conspicuous figures in the circle.  The Duchess’s society, as the Duke had implied, was composed of the livelier members of the court, chief among whom was the same Don Serafino who had figured so vividly in the reminiscences of Mirandolina and Cantapresto.  This gentleman, a notorious loose-liver and gamester, with some remains of good looks and a gay boisterous manner, played the leader of revels to her Highness’s following; and at his heels came the flock of pretty women and dashing spendthrifts who compose the train of a young and pleasure-loving princess.  On such occasions as the present, however, all the members of the court were obliged to pay their duty to her Highness; and conspicuous among these less frequent visitors was the Duke’s director, the suave and handsome Dominican whom Odo had seen leaving his Highness’s closet that afternoon.  This ecclesiastic was engaged in conversation with the Prime Minister, Count Pievepelago, a small feeble mannikin covered with gold lace and orders.  The deference with which the latter followed the Dominican’s discourse excited Odo’s attention; but it was soon diverted by the approach of a lady who joined herself to the group with an air of discreet familiarity.  Though no longer young, she was still slender and graceful, and her languid eye and vapourish manner seemed to Odo to veil an uncommon alertness of perception.  The rich sobriety of her dress, the jewelled rosary about her wrist, and most of all, perhaps, the murderous sweetness of the smile with which the Duchess addressed her, told him that here was the Countess Belverde; an inference which Trescorre confirmed.

“The Countess,” said he, “or I should rather say the Marchioness of Boscofolto, since the Duke has just bestowed on her the fief of that name, is impatient to make your acquaintance; and since you doubtless remember the saying of the Marquis de Montesquieu, that to know a ruler one must know his confessor and his mistress, you will perhaps be glad to seize both opportunities in one.”

The Countess greeted Odo with a flattering deference and at once drew him into conversation with Pievepelago and the Dominican.

“We are discussing,” said she, “the details of Prince Ferrante’s approaching visit to the shrine of our Lady of the Mountain.  This shrine lies about half an hour’s ride beyond my villa of Boscofolto, where I hope to have the honour of receiving their Highnesses on their return from the pilgrimage.  The Madonna del Monte, as you doubtless know, has often preserved the ducal house