“I have no intention of quarrelling with Del Ferice, dear,” said Giovanni, gently.

His face had grown a shade paler as she spoke.  The power of her hand and voice to move him, had not diminished in all the years of peaceful happiness that had passed so quickly.

“I do not mean any such thing,” he said again.  “But I mean this.  I will not have it said that Del Ferice has made a fortune for Orsino, nor that Orsino has helped Del Ferice’s interests.  I see no way but to interfere myself.  I can do it without the suspicion of a quarrel.”

“It will be a great mistake, Giovanni.  Wait till there is a new contract.”

“I will think of it, before doing anything definite.”

Corona well knew that she should get no greater concession than this.  The point of honour had been touched in Giovanni’s sensibilities and his character was stubborn and determined where his old prejudices were concerned.  She loved him very dearly, and this very obstinacy of his pleased her.  But she fancied that trouble of some sort was imminent.  She understood her son’s nature, too, and dreaded lest he should be forced into opposing his father.

It struck her that she might herself act as intermediary.  She could certainly obtain concessions from Orsino which Giovanni could not hope to extract by force or stratagem.  But the wisdom of her own proposal in the matter seemed unassailable.  The business now in hand should be allowed to run its natural course before anything was done to break off the relations between Orsino and Del Ferice.

In the evening she found an opportunity of speaking with Orsino in private.  She repeated to him the details of her conversation with Giovanni during the drive in the afternoon.

“My dear mother,” answered Orsino, “I do not trust Del Ferice any more than you and my father trust him.  You talk of things which he did years ago, but you do not tell me what those things were.  So far as I understand, it all happened before you were married.  My father and he quarrelled about something, and I suppose there was a lady concerned in the matter.  Unless you were the lady in question, and unless what he did was in the nature of an insult to you, I cannot see how the matter concerns me.  They fought and it ended there, as affairs of honour do.  If it touched you, then tell me so, and I will break with Del Ferice to-morrow morning.”

Corona was silent, for Orsino’s speech was very plain, and if she answered it all, the answer must be the truth.  There could be no escape from that.  And the truth would be very hard to tell.  At that time she had been still the wife of old Astrardente, and Del Ferice’s offence had been that he had purposely concealed himself in the conservatory of the Frangipan’s palace in order to overhear what Giovanni Saracinesca was about to say to another man’s wife.  The fact that on that memorable night she had bravely resisted a very great temptation