“Surely you can tell us something of what is said,” insinuated the old Princess Malio, adjusting her false teeth securely in the roof of her mouth as if the better to enjoy the delectable morsel of scandal that she felt was about to be served.  But the contessa, with a “could-if-she-would” expression, refused to say anything more, and the old princess turned instead to the duchess with, “Tell us the truth about Miss Randolph’s sudden illness!”

The truth, of course, was out of the question.  Public sympathy must have gone against her and her son, and she hedged to gain time, “It is not all worth the thought needed to frame words.”

The old Princess Malio made a swallowing motion, still waiting.  “Yes?” she encouraged eagerly.

“Any one could see what happened,” said the duchess reluctantly, as though she were loath to speak scandal.  “The American girl, through lack of training—­it is, after all, not her fault, poor thing—­knows no better than to try to arrange matters for herself!  She wanted, of course, to have an opportunity of talking to my Todo alone.  Her plan to go into the picture gallery here, however, necessitated my chaperoning her, and then—­contrary to her expectations—­Todo, who did not fall in with her scheme, said he had an engagement and at once left.  She could not, of course, declare the picture gallery of no interest, so I took her, but in her disappointment she quite lost her temper, so much so that it made her ill.  And then she took the matter in her own hands and went home—­I was never so astonished in my life!  She ran off with Giovanni Sansevero so fast I could not catch up with them.  I suppose he put her in the carriage, but for all I know he took her somewhere else.  I followed to the front door and waited, not knowing what to do.  Just as I returned to inform Princess Sansevero, for whom I have always had the highest regard, Giovanni commenced with his own account.  What could I do except agree to his statement?”

She looked inquiringly from one to the other.  “That is the whole story!  But I have made up my mind to one thing”—­she spread her fat fingers out—­“not even her millions would induce me to countenance Todo’s marriage with such a self-willed girl as that!”

The old Princess Malio looked like a bird of prey whose prize morsel had been stolen from it.  “There is more in this than appears,” she whispered to a timid little countess sitting next to her.

The latter’s half-hearted, “Do you think so, really?” voiced the attitude of nearly all present.  The Scorpas were, to use the old Roman proverb, “sleeping dogs best let alone,” and the Sanseveros, though not as rich, were none the less too great a family to side against.

* * * * *

While the voice of the duchess was still echoing in the drawing-room of the Palazzo Scorpa, Nina had thrown herself into the corner of the sofa in her own room.  She had a perfectly normal constitution, but she had been not only infuriated and horrified, but really frightened, and her nerves were unstrung.