“He is a handsome, dignified gentleman, my child.”

“Yes, father; he has long been an intimate friend of the Signor Geronimo."[7]

Mr. Van de Werve took his daughter’s hand, and said, gently:  “Geronimo may be finer-looking to a woman’s eye; but his future depends upon his uncle’s kindness.  He is young and inexperienced, and he possesses nothing himself.  The Signor Turchi, on the contrary, is rich and highly esteemed in the world as partner and administrator of the well-known house of Buonvisi.  Think better of your choice, Mary; satisfy my desires and your brothers’:  it is not yet too late.”

Tears filled the eyes of the young girl; she replied, however, with a sweet resignation:  “Father, I am your submissive child.  Command, and I will obey without a murmur, and humbly kiss the venerated hand which imposes the painful sacrifice.  But Geronimo! poor Geronimo!”

At these words her fortitude forsook her; she covered her face with her hands, and wept bitterly; her tears fell like bright pearls upon the marble floor.

For some moments Mr. Van de Werve contemplated his daughter with ever-increasing pity; then overcome by the sight of her grief, he took her hand, and tenderly pressing it, he said to her:  “Cheer up, my dear Mary, do not weep.  We will see what answer the Signor Deodati will return to the conditions I will propose to him.  Geronimo is of noble birth; if his uncle will consent to bestow upon him a suitable fortune, your desires shall be fulfilled.”

“But, dear father,” said the still weeping girl, “that depends upon the magnitude of your demands.  If you ask impossibilities of the Signor Deodati—­”

“No, no, have no anxiety,” said Mr. Van de Werve, interrupting her.  “I will endeavor to fulfil my duty as a father, and at the same time to spare you any future sorrow.  Are you satisfied now?”

Mary silently embraced her father, and her eyes expressed such gratitude that Mr. Van de Werve was deeply moved, and said, tenderly: 

“Who could refuse you anything?  Age, experience, prudence, all yield before one glance of your eye.  Conceal your emotion; I hear some one coming.”

A servant opened the door, and announced, “The Signor Geronimo.”

The young nobleman thus introduced was remarkable for his fine form, and the graceful elegance of his manners and carriage.  His complexion was of that light and clear brown which adds so much to the manly beauty of some Southern nations.  The dark beard and hair, his spirited black eyes, gave a singular charm to his countenance, while his calm and sweet smile indicated goodness of heart.

Although upon his entrance he strove to appear cheerful, Mary’s eye detected a concealed sadness.

The dress of Geronimo was simple in comparison with the rich attire of the other Italian nobles, his compatriots.  He wore a felt hat ornamented with a long plume, a Spanish cloak, a cloth doublet lined with fur, violet satin breeches, and gray boots.  His modest attire was relieved only by the sword which hung at his side; for the hilt glittered with precious stones, and the armorial bearings engraved upon it proved him to be of noble birth.