If he had spoken to her, she would have burst into tears; but his silence betrayed that he had no strength, and she suddenly felt that she was strong again, and that there was hope, and that he might marry Veronica, after all.  A woman rarely breaks down to very tears before a man weaker than herself, though she may be near it.

“You must marry her,” said Matilde, with returning steadiness.  “You owe it to your brother and to me.  Should I say, ‘to me,’ first?  It is to save us from disgrace—­from being prosecuted as well as ruined, from being dragged into court to answer for having wilfully defrauded—­that is the word they would use!—­for having wilfully defrauded Veronica Serra of a great deal of money, when we were her guardians and responsible for everything she had.  My hands are clean of that—­your brother did it without my knowledge.  But no judge living would believe that I, being a guardian with my husband, could be so wholly ignorant of his affairs.  There are severe penalties for such things, Bosio—­I believe that we should both be sent to penal servitude; for no power on earth could save us from a conviction, any more than anything but Veronica’s money can save us from ruin now.  Gregorio has taken much, but it has been, nothing compared with the whole fortune.  If you marry her, she will never know—­no one will know—­no one will ever guess.  As her husband you will have control of everything, and no one then will blame you for taking a hundredth part of your wife’s money to save your brother.  You will have the right to do it.  Your hands will be clean, too, as they are to-day.  What is the crime?  What is the difficulty?  What is the objection?  And on the other side there is ruin, a public trial, a conviction and penal servitude for your own brother, Gregorio, Count Macomer, and Matilde Serra, his wife.”

“My God!  What a choice!” exclaimed Bosio, pressing both his cold hands to his wet forehead.

“There is no choice!” answered the woman, with low, quick emphasis.  “Your mind is made up, and we will announce the engagement at once.  I do not care what objection Veronica makes.  She likes you, she is half in love with you—­what other man does she know?  And if she did—­she would not repent of marrying you rather than any one else.  You will make her happy—­as for me, I shall at least not die a disgraced woman.  You talk of choice!  Mine would be between a few drops of morphia and the galleys,—­a thousand times more desperate than yours, it seems to me!”

Her large eyes flashed with the furious determination to make him do what she desired.  His hands had fallen from his face, and he was looking at her almost quietly, not yielding so much as she thought, but at least listening gravely instead of telling her that she asked the impossible.

The door opened discreetly, and a servant appeared upon the threshold.

“The Signor Duca della Spina begs your Excellency to receive him for a moment, if it is not too late.”