“You don’t want to make us believe that you have been seeing her frequently all this time,—­passing hours with her a quattro occhi, and have never made love to her, Ludovico?” said Farini.

“No; I don’t want to make you believe don’t care a straw whether you, believe it or it is the fact for all that,” returned Ludovico.

“Ludovico has enough on his hands in quarter.  What would they say about it in the Via Santa Eufemia if he were to bow down to new and strange goddesses?” said Manutoli.

“That, if you please, Manutoli, we will not discuss either now or at any other time,” said Ludovico, with a look that showed he was in earnest.  “But, as for La Diva Bianca, I have no objection to tell all I know to anybody.  My belief is that she is as correct and proper, and all that sort of thing, as a Vestal.”

“Che!”

“Che!”

“Che!”

A chorus of protestations of incredulity in every tone of the gamut met the monstrous assertion.

“What, after all we heard of her doings at Milan—­after all the histories of her goddess-ship in every city of Italy?” said Manutoli.

“Well, what did we hear of her doings at Milan?  The fact is, we know nothing about the matter; and as to her previous history—­of course I don’t suppose that she is, and always has been, a Diana; but it may be that she has come to the time when she has thought it well to turn over a new leaf.  Such times do come to such women; but all I know is, that I firmly believe that since she has been here she has lived the life of a nun,” said Ludovico, in the simple tone of a man who is stating a truth which he has no interest in causing his hearers to credit or discredit.

“Per Bacco, it’s queer!” said Farini, slapping his hand against his thigh.  “I have heard,” he continued in the tone of one speaking of some strange and almost incredible monstrosity,—­“I have heard of such women taking a turn to devozione.  It’s not that with La Lalli, is it?”

“Che!  Nothing of the sort; she is as full of frolic as a kitten—­up to any fun.  And she is a very clever woman, too, let me tell you—­a good deal of education.  If you will put making love to her out of your head, I never knew a woman who was pleasanter company,” said Ludovico.

“And you really mean that you have never tried to make love to her in any way?” reiterated Manutoli.

“I do mean it, upon my soul; but I don’t care a rap whether you believe it or not,” rejoined Ludovico.

“And you are with her very frequently?” persisted Manutoli.

“Yes, I have seen a good deal of her altogether.  I like her; and I fancy she likes me to go there; she seems to wish me to come.  Perhaps it is a novelty to her to have a man about her who doesn’t try to make love to her.”

“The Marchese Lamberto sees her a good deal?”

“Yes; naturally.  If it had not been for that I should probably never have made acquaintance with her at all.  Lo zio is continually there.  He ought to have been an impresario.  In fact, he is the real impresario.  Little Ercole only does what my uncle tells him.  I don’t believe she ever sings a note on the stage that he has not heard and approved beforehand.”