the matter in a tone and in a humour, that had soon put an end to all such joking and to all such attempts.  It was in all ways easy for him to do this.  He was popular, and much liked among the young men, in the first place.  His social position, as the heir of one of the first families of the province whether for wealth or nobility of race, and of a man of such social standing as his uncle, made it a very undesirable thing to quarrel with him.  And even without any of such vantage-ground of position, Ludovico di Castelmare was a man, whose path it would have been dangerous to cross in such a matter as this, and who was very well capable of affording to any woman, in whom he was interested, a very efficient protection against any such offence as the most enterprising of the jeunesse doree of Ravenna might have been disposed to offer her.

The Conte Leandro Lombardoni had made the utmost of the chance that had rendered him the earliest acquaintance of the beautiful Venetian in Ravenna, with the exception of Ludovico himself.  He had chattered, and boasted after the manner of his kind.  He had succeeded in finding out the lodging, which Ludovico had taken so much pains to conceal from him, and had endeavoured to establish himself on the footing of a visiting acquaintance in the Strada Sta.  Eufemia.  But it had come to pass, that a degree of intimacy had very quickly grown up between Paolina and Ludovico, which permitted her to let him understand that, he would render her an acceptable service by once again ridding her of the Conte Leandro, as he had done on that first day of their acquaintance.  And the result was that, one evening, the gallant Conte, on knocking at the door of the house in the Strada di S. Eufemia, had it opened to him by his friend Ludovico,—­and further, that he never came back there any more, or was heard again to make any allusion whatever to his Venetian acquaintances.

But what was no longer said jestingly before Ludovico’s face was none the less said enviously, sneeringly, or knowingly behind his back.  It was perfectly well understood by all the young men in Ravenna that he was desperately in love with the beautiful Venetian artist.  As to the terms on which he stood with her there were differences of opinion.  But by far the more accredited notion was that the affair was quite a normal and ordinary one; and that the charming Paolina was the young Marchese’s mistress.

Would he give her up, when the marriage, which, as was well known to all Ravenna, his uncle had been arranging for him with the young Contessa Violante di Marliani, and which was expected to come off shortly, should be consummated?  That was the more interesting point for speculation.  Would he, as really seemed not impossible, be mad enough to carry on with the Venetian girl to such an extent as to give umbrage to the family of the Contessa, and perhaps even endanger the match?  This also was debated among his young peers of the Circolo, while he was passing the hour in the Strada di Sta.  Eufemia.