herself compliantly to enjoy—­her redoubled energy of hatred voluptuously, if ever a turn in events made wreck of her scheming.  She hated Vittoria for many reasons, all of them vague within her bosom because the source of them was indefinite and lay in the fact of her having come into collision with an opposing nature, whose rivalry was no visible rivalry, whose triumph was an ignorance of scorn—­a woman who attracted all men, who scattered injuries with insolent artlessness, who never appealed to forgiveness, and was a low-born woman daring to be proud.  By repute Anna was implacable, but she had, and knew she had, the capacity for magnanimity of a certain kind; and her knowledge of the existence of this unsuspected fund within her justified in some degree her reckless efforts to pull her enemy down on her knees.  It seemed doubly right that she should force Vittoria to penitence, as being good for the woman, and an end that exonerated her own private sins committed to effect it.

Yet she did not look clearly forward to the day of Vittoria’s imploring for mercy.  She had too many vexations to endure:  she was an insufficient schemer, and was too frequently thwarted to enjoy that ulterior prospect.  Her only servile instruments were Major Nagen, and Irma, who came to her from the Villa Ricciardi, hot to do her rival any deadly injury; but though willing to attempt much, these were apparently able to perform little more than the menial work of vengeance.  Major Nagen wrote in the name of Weisspriess to Count Ammiani, appointing a second meeting at Como, and stating that he would be at the villa of the Duchess of Graatli there.  Weisspriess was unsuspectingly taken down to the place by Anna and Lena.  There was a gathering of such guests as the duchess alone among her countrywomen could assemble, under the patronage of the conciliatory Government, and the duchess projected to give a series of brilliant entertainments in the saloons of the Union, as she named her house-roof.  Count Serabiglione arrived, as did numerous Moderates and priest-party men, Milanese garrison officers and others.  Laura Piaveni travelled with Countess d’Isorella and the happy Adela Sedley, from Lago Maggiore.

Laura came, as she cruelly told her friend, for the purpose of making Victoria’s excuses to the duchess.  “Why can she not come herself?” Amalia persisted in asking, and began to be afflicted with womanly curiosity.  Laura would do nothing but shrug and smile, and repeat her message.  A little after sunset, when the saloons were lighted, Weisspriess, sitting by his Countess Anna’s side, had a slip of paper placed in his hands by one of the domestics.  He quitted his post frowning with astonishment, and muttered once, “My appointment!” Laura noticed that Anna’s heavy eyelids lifted to shoot an expressive glance at Violetta d’Isorella.  She said:  “Can that have been anything hostile, do you suppose?” and glanced slyly at her friend.