curiosity!—he must see her and cross-examine
her to satisfy himself that she was a true patriot,
&c. You know the style: we neither of us
like it. Sandra was waiting to receive him when
they pounced on him by the door. Next day the
woman struck at her. Decidedly a handsome woman.
She is the exact contrast to the Countess Violetta
in face, in everything. Heart-disease will certainly
never affect that pretty spy! But, mark,”
pursued Laura, warming, “when Carlo arrived,
tears, penitence, heaps of self-accusations: he
had been unkind to her even on Lake Orta, where they
passed their golden month; he had neglected her at
Turin; he had spoken angry words in Milan; in fact,
he had misused his treasure, and begged pardon;—’If
you please, my poor bleeding angel, I am sorry.
But do not, I entreat, distract me with petitions
of any sort, though I will perform anything earthly
to satisfy you. Be a good little boat in the
wake of the big ship. I will look over at you,
and chirrup now and then to you, my dearest, when I
am not engaged in piloting extraordinary.’—Very
well; I do not mean to sneer at the unhappy boy, Merthyr;
I love him; he was my husband’s brother in arms;
the sweetest lad ever seen. He is in the season
of faults. He must command; he must be a chief;
he fancies he can intrigue poor thing! It will
pass. And so will the hour to be forward to Rome.
But I call your attention to this: when he heard
of the dagger—I have it from Colonel Corte,
who was with him at the time in Turin—he
cried out Violetta d’Isorella’s name.
Why? After he had buried his head an hour on Sandra’s
pillow, he went straight to Countess d’Isorella,
and was absent till night. The woman is hideous
to me. No; don’t conceive that I think her
Sandra’s rival. She is too jealous.
She has him in some web. If she has not ruined
him, she will. She was under my eyes the night
she heard of his marriage: I saw how she will
look at seventy! Here is Carlo at the head of
a plot she has prepared for him; and he has Angelo
Guidascarpi, and Ugo Corte, Marco Sana, Giulio Bandinelli,
and about fifty others. They have all been kept
away from Rome by that detestable ----- you object
to hear bad names cast on women, Merthyr. Hear
Agostino! The poor old man comes daily to this
house to persuade Carlo to lead his band to Rome.
It is so clearly Rome—Rome, where all his
comrades are; where the chief stand must be made by
the side of Italy’s Chief. Worst sign of
all, it has been hinted semi-officially to Carlo that
he may upon application be permitted to re-issue his
journal. Does not that show that the Government
wishes to blindfold him, and keep him here, and knows
his plans?”
Laura started up as the door opened, and Vittoria appeared leaning upon Carlo’s arm. Countess Ammiani, Countess d’Isorella, and Pericles were behind them. Laura’s children followed.
When Merthyr rose, Vittoria was smiling in Carlo’s face at something that had been spoken. She was pale, and her arm was in a sling, but there was no appearance of her being unnerved. Merthyr waited for her recognition of him. She turned her eyes from Carlo slowly. The soft dull smile in them died out as it were with a throb, and then her head drooped on one shoulder, and she sank to the floor.