“Can anything be more grave than wedlock, lady?”

“To them it is important, as it furnishes the means of perpetuating their honors and their proud names.  Beyond this, the council looks little at domestic interests.”

“They are fathers and husbands!”

“True, for to be legally the first, they must become the last.  Marriage to them is not a tie of sacred and dear affinity, but the means of increasing their riches and of sustaining their names,” continued the governess, watching the effect of her words on the countenance of the guileless girl.  “They call marriages of affection children’s games, and they deal with the wishes of their own daughters, as they would traffic with their commodities of commerce.  When a state sets up an idol of gold as its god, few will refuse to sacrifice at its altar!”

“I would I might serve the noble Donna Violetta!”

“Thou art too young, good Gelsomina, and I fear too little practised in the cunning of Venice.”

“Doubt me not, lady; for I can do my duty like another, in a good cause.”

“If it were possible to convey to Don Camillo Monforte a knowledge of our situation—­but thou art too inexperienced for the service!”

“Believe it not, Signora,” interrupted the generous Gelsomina, whose pride began to stimulate her natural sympathies with one so near her own age, and one too, like herself, subject to that passion which engrosses a female heart.  “I may be apter than my appearance would give reason to think.”

“I will trust thee, kind girl, and if the Sainted Virgin protects us, thy fortunes shall not be forgotten!”

The pious Gelsomina crossed herself, and, first acquainting her companions with her intentions, she went within to prepare herself, while Donna Florinda penned a note, in terms so guarded as to defy detection in the event of accident, but which might suffice to let the lord of St. Agata understand their present situation.

In a few minutes the keeper’s daughter reappeared.  Her ordinary attire, which was that of a modest Venetian maiden of humble condition, needed no concealment; and the mask, an article of dress which none in that city were without, effectually disguised her features.  She then received the note, with the name of the street, and the palace she was to seek, a description of the person of the Neapolitan, with often-repeated cautions to be wary, and departed.

CHAPTER XXIV.

  “Which is the wiser here?—­Justice or iniquity?”
                              Measure for measure.