Now, having with lover’s haste made good progress with all he had to do, Nobili has come down to the club to meet his friends, and to receive their congratulations.  Every hand is stretched out toward him.  Even Ruspoli, spite of obvious jealousy, liked him.  Nobili’s face is lit up with its sunniest smile.  Having shaken hands with him, an ominous silence ensues.  Orsetti and Malatesta suddenly find that their cigars want relighting, and turn aside.  Orazio seats himself at a distance, and scowls at Prince Ruspoli.  Nobili gives a quick glance round.  An instant tells him that something is wrong.

Prince Ruspoli breaks the awkward silence.  He walks up, looks at Nobili with immovable gravity, then slaps him on the shoulder.

“I congratulate you, Nobili.  I hear you are to marry the Marchesa Guinigi’s niece.”

“Balduccio, I thank you.  Within a week I hope to bring her home to Lucca.  There will then be but one Guinigi home in the two palaces.  The marchesa makes her heiress of all she possesses.”

Prince Ruspoli is satisfied.  Now he will back Count Nobili to any odds.  He will name his next foal Mario Nobili.

Again Nobili glances round; this time there is the shadow of a frown upon his smooth brow.  Orsetti feels that he must speak.

“Have you known the lady long?” Orsetti asks, with an embarrassment foreign to him.

“Yes, and no,” answers Nobili, reddening, and scanning the veiled expression on Orsetti’s face with intense curiosity.  “But the matter has been brought to a crisis by the accidental burning of the marchesa’s house at Corellia.  I was present—­I saved her niece.”

“I thought it was rather sudden,” says Orazio, from behind, in a tone full of suggestion.  “We were in doubt, before you came, to whom the lady was engaged.”

Nobili starts.

“What do you mean?” he asks, hastily.

The color has left his cheeks; his blue eyes grow dark.

“There has been some foolish gossip from persons who know nothing,” Orsetti answers, advancing to the front.  “About some engagement with another gentleman, whom she had accepted—­”

“Nonsense!  Don’t listen to him, my good fellow,” breaks in Ruspoli.  “These lads have nothing to do but to breed scandal.  They would slander the Virgin; not for wickedness, but for idleness.  I mean to make them hunt.  Hunting is the cure.”

Nobili stands as if turned to stone.

“But I must listen,” replies Nobili, fiercely, fire flaming in his eyes.  “This lady’s honor is my own.  Who has dared to couple her name with any other man?  Orsetti—­Ruspoli”—­and he turns to them in great excitement—­“you are my friends.  What does this mean?”

“Nothing,” said Orsetti, trying to smile, but not succeeding.  “I hear, Nobili, you have behaved with extraordinary generosity,” he adds, fencing the question.

“Yes, by Jove!” adds Prince Ruspoli.  Ruspoli was leaning up against a pillar, watching Orazio as he would a mischievous cur.  “A most suitable marriage.  Not that I care a button for blood, except in horses.”