“That sort of thing is not commonly done in business,” he said quietly, after a short pause.  “As a rule, men who busy themselves with affairs do so in the hope of growing rich, but I can quite understand that where business is a mere pastime, as it is to be in your case, a man of generous instincts may devote the proceeds to charity.”

“It looks more like justice than charity to me,” observed Orsino.

“Call it what you will, but succeed first and consider the uses of your success afterwards.  That is not my affair.  The baker’s heirs are not especially deserving people, I believe.  In fact they are said to have hastened his death in the hope of inheriting his wealth and are disappointed to find that they have got nothing.  If you wish to be philanthropic you might wait until you have cleared a large sum and then give it to a school or a hospital.”

“That is true,” said Orsino.  “In the meantime it is important to begin.”

“We can begin to-morrow, if you please.  You will find me at the bank at mid-day.  I will send for the architect and the notary and we can manage everything in forty-eight hours.  Before the week is out you can be at work.”

“So soon as that?”

“Certainly.  Sooner, by hurrying matters a little.”

“As soon as possible then.  And I will go to the bank at twelve o’clock to-morrow.  A thousand thanks for all your good offices, my dear count.”

“It is a pleasure, I assure you.”

Orsino was so much pleased with Del Ferice’s quick and business-like way of arranging matters that he began to look upon him as a model to imitate, so far as executive ability was concerned.  It was odd enough that any one of his name should feel anything like admiration for Ugo, but friendship and hatred are only the opposite points at which the social pendulum pauses before it swings backward, and they who live long may see many oscillations.

The two men went back to the drawing-room where Donna Tullia and Maria Consuelo were discussing the complicated views of the almighty dressmaker.  Orsino knew that there was little chance of his speaking a word alone with Madame d’Aranjuez and resigned himself to the effort of helping the general conversation.  Fortunately the time to be got over in this way was not long, as all four had engagements in the evening.  Maria Consuelo rose at half-past ten, but Orsino determined to wait five minutes longer, or at least to make a show of meaning to do so.  But Donna Tullia put out her hand as though she expected him to take his leave at the same time.  She was going to a ball and wanted at least an hour in which to screw her magnificence up to the dancing pitch.

The consequence was that Orsino found himself helping Maria Consuelo into the modest hired conveyance which awaited her at the gate.  He hoped that she would offer him a seat for a short distance, but he was disappointed.

“May I come to-morrow?” he asked, as he closed the door of the carriage.  The night was not cold and the window was down.