Montevarchi left the rest of the sentence to his daughter’s imagination, merely turning up his eyes a little as though deprecating the just vengeance of heaven upon his daughter’s misconduct.

“Really, papa—­” protested Faustina.

“Yes—­really, my daughter—­I am much surprised,” returned her incensed parent, still speaking in an undertone lest the injured man should overhear what was said.

They reached the head of the stairs and the men carried Gouache rapidly away; not so quickly, however, as to prevent Faustina from getting another glimpse of his face.  His eyes were open and met hers with an expression of mingled interest and gratitude which she did not forget.  Then he was carried away and she did not see him again.

The Montevarchi household was conducted upon the patriarchal principle, once general in Rome, and not quite abandoned even now, twenty years later than the date of Gouache’s accident.  The palace was a huge square building facing upon two streets, in front and behind, and opening inwards upon two courtyards.  Upon the lower floor were stables, coach-houses, kitchens, and offices innumerable.  Above these there was built a half story, called a mezzanino—­in French, entresol, containing the quarters of the unmarried sons of the house, of the household chaplain, and of two or three tutors employed in the education of the Montevarchi grandchildren.  Next above, came the “piano nobile,” or state apartments, comprising the rooms of the prince and princess, the dining-room, and a vast suite of reception-rooms, each of which opened into the next in such a manner that only the last was not necessarily a passage.  In the huge hall was the dais and canopy with the family arms embroidered in colours once gaudy but now agreeably faded to a softer tone.  Above this floor was another, occupied by the married sons, their wives and children; and high over all, above the cornice of the palace, were the endless servants’ quarters and the roomy garrets.  At a rough estimate the establishment comprised over a hundred persons, all living under the absolute and despotic authority of the head of the house, Don Lotario Montevarchi, Principe Montevarchi, and sole possessor of forty or fifty other titles.  From his will and upon his pleasure depended every act of every member of his household, from his eldest son and heir, the Duca di Bellegra, to that of Pietro Paolo, the under-cook’s scullion’s boy.  There were three sons and four daughters.  Two of the sons were married, to wit, Don Ascanio, to whom his father had given his second title, and Don Onorato, who was allowed to call himself Principe di Cantalupo, but who would have no legal claim to that distinction after his father’s death.  Last of the three came Don Carlo, a young fellow of twenty years, but not yet emancipated from the supervision of his tutor.  Of the daughters, the two eldest, Bianca and Laura, were married and no longer lived in Rome, the one having been matched with a Neapolitan