“Why not?” asked Beatrice.  “You will not deny me a little grain of original sin, will you?  It will make our life so much more varied and amusing, and when I say that you act constantly—­I only mean what you said of yourself, that you are constant in your actions.”

“You so rarely spare me a compliment, Donna Beatrice, that you must forgive me for not having understood that one sooner.  Accept my best thanks—­”

“And agree to the expression of my most distinguished sentiments, as the French say at the end of a letter,” said Beatrice, rising.  “And now that I have complimented everybody, and been civil, and pleased everybody, and have been thanked and have taken all the original sin of the party upon my own shoulders, I will go and have a swim before breakfast.  Good-bye, mamma.  Good-bye, Count.”

With a quick nod, she turned and left them, and went in search of Teresina, whose duty it was to accompany her to the bath.  The maid was unusually cheerful, though she had not failed to notice the change in Beatrice’s manner which had taken place since the day of the betrothal, and she understood it well enough, as she had told Bastianello.  Moreover she pitied her young mistress sincerely and hated San Miniato with all her heart; but she was so happy herself that she could not possibly hide it.

“You are very glad that I am to be married, Teresina,” said Beatrice as they went out of the house together, the maid carrying a large bag containing bathing things.

“I, Signorina?  Do you ask me the real truth?  I do not know whether to be glad or sorry.  I pray you, Signorina, tell me which I am to be.”

“Oh—­glad of course!” returned Beatrice, with a bitter little laugh.  “A marriage should always be a matter for rejoicing.  Why should you not be glad—­like every one else?”

“Like you, Signorina?” asked Teresina with a glance at the young girl’s face.

“Yes:  Like me.”  And Beatrice laughed again in the same way.

“Very well, Signorina.  I will be as glad as you are.  I shall find it very easy.”

It was Beatrice’s turn to look at her, which she did, rather suspiciously.  It was clear enough that the girl had her doubts.

“Just as glad as you are, Signorina, and no more,” said Teresina again, in a lower voice, as though she were speaking to herself.

Beatrice said nothing in answer.  As they reached the end of the path through the garden, they saw Ruggiero and his brother sitting as usual by the porter’s lodge.  Both got up and came quickly forward.  Bastianello took the bag from Teresina’s hand, and the maid and the two sailors followed Beatrice at a little distance as she descended the inclined tunnel.