The extreme and painful difficulty was that the Signora
Piaveni made no concealment of her abhorrence of the
House of Austria, and hatred of Austrian rule in Italy.
The spirit of her dead husband had come to her from
the grave, and warmed a frame previously indifferent
to anything save his personal merits. It had
been covertly communicated to her that if she performed
due submission to the authorities, and lived for six
months in good legal, that is to say, nonpatriotic
odour, she might hope to have the estates. The
duchess had obtained this mercy for her, and it was
much; for Giacomo’s scheme of revolt had been
conceived with a subtlety of genius, and contrived
on a scale sufficient to incense any despotic lord
of such a glorious milch-cow as Lombardy. Unhappily
the signora was more inspired by the remembrance of
her husband than by consideration for her children.
She received disaffected persons: she subscribed
her money ostentatiously for notoriously patriotic
purposes; and she who, in her father’s Como
villa, had been a shy speechless girl, nothing more
than beautiful, had become celebrated for her public
letters, and the ardour of declamation against the
foreigner which characterized her style. In the
face of such facts, the estates continued to be withheld
from her governance. Austria could do that:
she could wreak her spite against the woman, but she
respected her own law even in a conquered land:
the estates were not confiscated, and not absolutely
sequestrated; and, indeed, money coming from them
had been sent to her for the education of her children.
It lay in unopened official envelopes, piled one upon
another, quarterly remittances, horrible as blood
of slaughter in her sight. Count Serabiglione
made a point of counting the packets always within
the first five minutes of a visit to his daughter.
He said nothing, but was careful to see to the proper
working of the lock of the cupboard where the precious
deposits were kept, and sometimes in forgetfulness
he carried off the key. When his daughter reclaimed
it, she observed, ’Pray believe me quite as
anxious as yourself to preserve these documents.’
And the count answered, ’They represent the
estates, and are of legal value, though the amount
is small. They represent your protest, and the
admission of your claim. They are priceless.’
In some degree, also, they compensated him for the expense he was put to in providing for his daughter’s subsistence and that of her children. For there, at all events, visible before his eyes, was the value of the money, if not the money expended. He remonstrated with Laura for leaving it more than necessarily exposed. She replied,
‘My people know what that money means!’ implying, of course, that no one in her house would consequently touch it. Yet it was reserved for the count to find it gone.