When she had driven home, Violetta found Barto Rizzo’s accusatory paper laid on her writing-desk.  She gathered the contents in a careless glance, and walked into the garden alone, to look for Carlo.

He was leaning on the balustrade of the terrace, near the water-gate, looking into the deep clear lake-water.  Violetta placed herself beside him without a greeting.

“You are watching fish for coolness, my Carlo?”

“Yes,” he said, and did not turn to her face.

“You were very angry when you arrived?”

She waited for his reply.

“Why do you not speak, Carlino?”

“I am watching fish for coolness,” he said.

“Meantime,” said Violetta, “I am scorched.”

He looked up, and led her to an arch of shade, where he sat quite silent.

“Can anything be more vexing than this?” she was reduced to exclaim.

“Ah!” said he, “you would like the catalogue to be written out for you in a big bold hand, possibly, with a terrific initials at the end of the page.”

“Carlo, you have done worse than that.  When I saw you first here, what crimes did you not accuse me of? what names did you not scatter on my head? and what things did I not, confess to?  I bore the unkindness, for you were beaten, and you wanted a victim.  And, my dear friend, considering that I am after all a woman, my forbearance has subsequently been still greater.”

“How?” he asked.  Her half-pathetic candour melted him.

“You must, have a lively memory for the uses of forgetfulness, Carlo, When you had scourged me well, you thought it proper to raise me up and give me comfort.  I was wicked for serving the king, and therefore the country, as a spy; but I was to persevere, and cancel my iniquities by betraying those whom I served to you.  That was your instructive precept.  Have I done it or not?  Answer, too have I done it for any payment beyond your approbation?  I persuaded you to hope for Lombardy, and without any vaunting of my own patriotism.  You have seen and spoken to the men I directed you to visit.  If their heads master yours, I shall be reprobated for it, I know surely; but I am confident as yet that you can match them.  In another month I expect to see the king over the Ticino once more, and Carlo in Brescia with his comrades.  You try to penetrate my eyes.  That’s foolish; I can make them glass.  Read me by what I say and what I do.  I do not entreat you to trust me; I merely beg that you will trust your own judgement of me by what I have helped you to do hitherto.  You and I, my dear boy, have had some trifling together.  Admit that another woman would have refused to surrender you as I did when your unruly Vittoria was at last induced to come to you from Milan.  Or, another woman would have had her revenge on discovering that she had been a puppet of soft eyes and a lover’s quarrel with his mistress.  Instead of which, I let you go.  I am opposed to the marriage, it’s true; and you know why.”