At times he was moody and thoughtful, and some matter seemed to weigh heavily upon his mind.  He was, however, a peculiar man, with few personal friends and no confidants, and there were some dark hints thrown out touching his honesty in the matter of a sum of money entrusted to his care and disbursement by the government.  But policy had led to this report’s being hushed up on the part of government, for he was of noble blood.

This nephew, Petro Giampetti, was a handsome youth after the style of the Italians, possessed of all the noble and revengeful passions so common to his countrymen, yet by no means an evil-disposed person.  His dark, swarthy countenance was rendered handsome by a remarkably deep, piercing eye, about which there was a certain something which, while you could not exactly describe, yet left an unpleasant effect upon the beholder; a certain expression that seemed to say that when an object was to be gained, the means would sometimes be disregarded.

He had been much with Florinda from childhood, and he was taught to consider her as his future wife.  As to love, he might be said to admire her beauty of person and mind, for none knew better how to appreciate both than Petro; and, taken in connection with his anticipated union with her, he perhaps loved her as the world goes.  But she had never excited in his bosom that latent passion which smoulders in every heart, and which chance, earlier or later, will eventually fan into a flame.

He thought the matter settled, and lived accordingly, giving himself little trouble or thought as to the affair.  He had often congratulated himself, since he had become of an age to appreciate such things, that he was to be so nobly connected, aside from the unbounded wealth there was in store for him.  To speak more particularly, this latter consideration was of no little weight with one whose family coffers and private purse were sadly low and much needed replenishing.

Petro held the office of private secretary to his uncle in his capacity as an officer of state, and was consequently called with him to Bologna, and there resided with him until a few months subsequent to the awarding of the prize by the Grand Duke for the favored picture presented at the Pitti palace, when the business which had called them from home being completed, he followed his uncle on his return to Florence.  He came back with a light heart, little anticipating the scenes that were to follow, or deeming that his hopes of future wealth and distinction by means of the proposed alliance with Florinda, had suffered in his absence.

Thus stood matters at this period of Carlton’s good fortune; and here might have commenced our tale, but that we wished to show the reader “how love does not level the proud, but raiseth the humble.”

When Signor Latrezzi learned what had occurred during his absence-that his most darling wish was about to be frustrated, and the work of years overthrown, as it were, in a single day—­his anger knew no bounds, nor did he attempt to control it.  He threw aside the mask, and the storm burst about the devoted head of Florinda in all its wrath and fury.