As she did so she put into his hand, without any word of comment, but with a slight smile and a little momentary raising of her eyebrows, the two cards that Gigia had, a little while before, handed to her.  They bore the names of the Barone Manutoli and the Marchese Ludovico Castelmare; and Bianca handed them to the Marchese with a matter-of-course air that seemed to say that, in the position which the Marchese Lamberto and she had assumed towards each other, it was natural and proper that he should see who had called on her.

He merely nodded as he looked at them; and then, for the second time, kissing the tips of the fingers he still held, as she got up from her couch, he bowed low as she passed him to go towards the bedroom; and she, before quitting the room, made a sweeping curtsey, half playfully, and then kissed the tops of her fingers to him as she vanished into the inner room.

CHAPTER V

After-thoughts

The Marchese Lamberto and Signor Ercole Stadione quitted the house in which the prima donna had her lodging, together, when the business matters, which they had come thither to arrange, had been settled.

“A wonderful woman, Signor Marchese,” said the little impresario, trotting along with short steps by the side of the Marchese, and rising on his toes in a springy manner, that made his walk resemble that of a cock-sparrow.  “Truly a wonderful woman.  I have seen and known a many in my day, Signor Marchese, as you are well aware, sir; but such an one as that, such an out-and-outer, I never saw before.”

“She is evidently a lady, whose education and manners entitle her to be treated with all respect,” replied the Marchese, more drily, the little man thought, than his great patron was usually in the habit of addressing him, and somewhat quickening his stride at the same time, as if he wanted to walk away from the impresario.

“Most undoubtedly, Signor Marchese, and every sort of respectful treatment she shall have.  There shall be a stove and a new looking-glass put into her dressing-room this very day.  If she don’t draw, say Ercole Stadione knows nothing about it.  A very singular thing it is, Signor Marchese,—­and you must have observed it, Signor, as well as I,—­there’s some women whose singing, let ’em sing as well as they will, is the smallest part of their value in filling a theatre.  There’s no saying what it is, but they draw—­Lord bless you, as a bit of salt will draw the cattle after it!  And this Lalli is one of that sort.  I know ’em, when I see ’em.  Won’t she draw, that’s all!” said the little man again, rubbing his hands together, and chuckling with infinite glee.

The Marchese Lamberto would have been at a loss probably if he had been required to state clearly why he felt angry and annoyed with the impresario that morning, and thought him a bore, and wished to be quit of him.  But such was the case.  And presently, when the well-skilled and business-like little man began to canvass the capabilities of certain parts in his repertorio, for the most advantageous showing off of the personal advantages of the new acquisition, the Marchese could stand it no longer, but replied hastily: