“Oh, speak even as an enemy and I shall not mind it,” Roderick answered, frowning.

“Be very reasonable, then, and go away.”

“Why the deuce should I go away?”

“Because you are in love,” said the Cavaliere.

“I might as well be in love here as in the streets.”

“Carry your love as far as possible from Christina.  She will not listen to you—­she can’t.”

“She ’can’t’?” demanded Roderick.  “She is not a person of whom you may say that.  She can if she will; she does as she chooses.”

“Up to a certain point.  It would take too long to explain; I only beg you to believe that if you continue to love Miss Light you will be very unhappy.  Have you a princely title? have you a princely fortune?  Otherwise you can never have her.”

And the Cavaliere folded his arms again, like a man who has done his duty.  Roderick wiped his forehead and looked askance at Rowland; he seemed to be guessing his thoughts and they made him blush a little.  But he smiled blandly, and addressing the Cavaliere, “I ’m much obliged to you for the information,” he said.  “Now that I have obtained it, let me tell you that I am no more in love with Miss Light than you are.  Mr. Mallet knows that.  I admire her—­yes, profoundly.  But that ’s no one’s business but my own, and though I have, as you say, neither a princely title nor a princely fortune, I mean to suffer neither those advantages nor those who possess them to diminish my right.”

“If you are not in love, my dear young man,” said the Cavaliere, with his hand on his heart and an apologetic smile, “so much the better.  But let me entreat you, as an affectionate friend, to keep a watch on your emotions.  You are young, you are handsome, you have a brilliant genius and a generous heart, but—­I may say it almost with authority—­Christina is not for you!”

Whether Roderick was in love or not, he was nettled by what apparently seemed to him an obtrusive negation of an inspiring possibility.  “You speak as if she had made her choice!” he cried.  “Without pretending to confidential information on the subject, I am sure she has not.”

“No, but she must make it soon,” said the Cavaliere.  And raising his forefinger, he laid it against his under lip.  “She must choose a name and a fortune—­and she will!”

“She will do exactly as her inclination prompts!  She will marry the man who pleases her, if he has n’t a dollar!  I know her better than you.”

The Cavaliere turned a little paler than usual, and smiled more urbanely.  “No, no, my dear young man, you do not know her better than I. You have not watched her, day by day, for twenty years.  I too have admired her.  She is a good girl; she has never said an unkind word to me; the blessed Virgin be thanked!  But she must have a brilliant destiny; it has been marked out for her, and she will submit.  You had better believe me; it may save you much suffering.”