“On the contrary, on the contrary,” protested Ugo.  “I have a great deal to say against that statement.”  And he eulogised Orsino’s gifts almost without pausing for breath until the clerk returned with the preliminary receipt.  Del Ferice signed it and handed it to Orsino with a smile.

“This was unnecessary,” said the young man.  “I could have waited until to-morrow.”

“A matter of conscience, dear Don Orsino—­nothing more.”

CHAPTER XXIX.

Orsino was free at last.  The whole matter was incomprehensible to him, and almost mysterious, so that after he had at last received his legal release he spent his time in trying to discover the motives of Del Ferice’s conduct.  The simplest explanation seemed to be that Ugo had not derived as much profit from the last contract as he had hoped for, though it had been enough to justify him in keeping his informal engagement with Contini and Company, and that he feared a new and unfavourable change in business which made any further speculations of the kind dangerous.  For some time Orsino believed this to have been the case, but events proved that he was mistaken.  He dissolved his partnership with Contini, but Andrea Contini and Company still continued to exist.  The new partner was no less a personage than Del Ferice himself, who was constantly represented in the firm by the confidential clerk who has been more than once mentioned in this history, and who was a friend of Contini’s.  What terms Contini made for himself, Orsino never knew, but it is certain that the architect prospered from that time and is still prosperous.

Late in the spring of that year 1890 Roman society was considerably surprised by the news of a most unexpected marriage.  The engagement had been carefully kept a secret, the banns had been published in Palermo, the civil and religious ceremonies had taken place there, and the happy couple had already reached Paris before either of them thought of informing their friends and before any notice of the event appeared in the papers.  Even then, society felt itself aggrieved by the laconic form in which the information was communicated.

The statement, indeed, left nothing to be desired on the score of plainness or conciseness of style.  Count Del Ferice had married Maria Consuelo d’Aranjuez d’Aragona.

Two persons only received the intelligence a few days before it was generally made known.  One was Orsino and the other was Spicca.  The letters were characteristic and may be worth reproducing.

“My father” (Maria Consuelo wrote)—­“I am married to Count Del Ferice, with whom I think that you are acquainted.  There is no reason why I should enter into any explanation of my reasons for taking this step.  There are plenty which everybody can see.  My husband’s present position and great wealth make him what the world calls a good match, and