But he knew also, as well as any one could know it, that Gianluca would never stand upon his feet again.  And, moreover, he knew that though it would seem wrong to Veronica to love Taquisara, and would be wrong, if she had intention, as it were, yet there could be no real sin in it, for she was not Gianluca’s wife.  Had she been truly married, Don Teodoro, gentle and old, would have found strength to force Taquisara to go away—­had anything more than the force of honour been needed in such a case.

“I am very glad, my dear Princess,” he said, and his voice trembled in the reaction after his own anxiety.  “You do not wish me to go to Naples, now?” he said with an interrogation, after a brief pause.  “You would rather that I should wait until Christmas?”

“Of course—­if you can,” answered Veronica, somewhat surprised at his change of tone.  “But if you really must go, if you are so very anxious to go at once, I must not hinder you.”

“I will see,” said Don Teodoro.  “I will think of it.  Perhaps it can be arranged—­indeed, I think it can.”

He was old, she thought, and he had never been decided in character, except about doing good to poor people, and studying Church history.  So she did not press him with questions, but let him do as he would; and he did not go to Naples then, but he went and found Taquisara within the hour, and told him what Veronica had said about her marriage.

The Sicilian heard him in silence, as they stood together on the lower bastion where they had met, but Don Teodoro saw the high-cut nostrils quiver, while the even lips set themselves to betray nothing.

“If matters go no further than they have gone,” he said at last, as the priest waited, “we need do nothing.”

So they did nothing, and Don Teodoro did not go to Naples.

The daily life ran on in its channel.  But Gianluca did not continue to improve so fast.  Then it seemed as though improvement had reached its limit, and still he was helpless to stand, being completely and hopelessly paralyzed in his lower limbs.  At first, neither the old couple nor Veronica realized that he was no longer getting better, though he was no worse.  He himself did not believe it; but Taquisara saw and understood.  Gianluca refused to be moved, insisting that he was gaining strength, and that some day the sensation would come suddenly to his feet, and he should stand upright.  Otherwise, he was now almost as well as when he had come to Muro.  They sent for a wheel-chair from Naples, and he wheeled himself through the endless rooms, and to luncheon, and to dinner, Veronica walking by his side.  It gave his arms exercise, and he became very expert at it, laughing cheerfully as he made the wheels go round, and he went so fast that Veronica sometimes had to run a few steps to keep up with him.