Away back, in the grounds of the monastery of San Marco, was the garden-casino of Cosimo, “Padre della Patria,” a delightful retreat.  Francesco received it as a gift from his father, and there he was accustomed to entertain his friends and familiars.

Passing, on his way thither—­as he often did, with a frolicsome party of young bloods—­the humble dwelling of the Buonaventuri, he chanced, one day, to look up at a half-open window—­the jalousies were thrown back, and there, sitting at her needlework, was the very girl he sought!

There could be no manner of doubt who she was, no Florentine maiden was so fair, and no eyes in Florence were so bright.  Casually asking a member of his suite whose house they were passing, Don Francesco tossed up his glove at the girl and passed on.

Another person witnessed this love passage, the Marchesa Anna Mondragone, wife of Francesco’s old governor and his chamberlain—­she was on the balcony of the house at the corner of the Piazza to make her usual curtsey to the Prince.  When the Marchese came home that night, he told his wife that the Prince had seen Bianca Buonaventuri, and had enlisted his services to obtain an interview with the lovely Venetian.

Nothing does a woman of the world love more than to be a go-between where sentimental couples are concerned—­be it for their weal or be it for their woe—­and so the Marchesa sympathetically addressed herself to the diplomatic task of bringing the two young people together.  She struck up a passing acquaintance with Madonna Costanza, and upon the plea that she wished for the opinion of her daughter-in-law upon the question of a Venetian costume she was about to wear at a reception at the palace, asked her to bring Bianca to the Mondragone mansion.

Accordingly, a few days after the affair of the kid glove, the three women were closeted in the Marchesa’s boudoir, where the Marchese joined them.  Calling off Bianca to look at some jewellery, she whisked her into another room, and presently, leaving her absorbed in the beauty of the gems, retired.

Bianca looked up, somewhat annoyed to find herself alone, and, as she did so, she detected a slight movement behind the arras over the door.  The next moment it was raised, and there stepped into the apartment none other than Don Francesco de’ Medici!

Bianca stood there, speechless and embarrassed, but the Prince, approaching, took her hand in his, kissed it, and placed her beside him on a couch.  When she had recovered from her surprise, Bianca fell upon her knees and, weeping, besought Francesco to befriend her and Pietro.  Raising her to the couch once more, he folded her in an impassioned embrace, and promised his protection and what she would besides!

Very greatly moved was the young man by Bianca’s rare beauty of face and form, and by the tenderness of her voice, and, perhaps more than all, by the undoubting confidence she reposed in him.  Bianca was such a very different sort of girl to cold, unattractive and ill-educated Giovanna.