Now the Baron Manutoli belonged to the latter of these two categories.  He was some years older than Ludovico; had been a married man, and was now a widower with one little boy,—­the future Baron Manutoli; and considered himself as having been blessed with a supreme and exceptional degree of good fortune, with regard to all that appertained to that difficult and often disastrous chapter of human destinies which concerns the relations of mankind with the other sex.  Happiness and advantages, ordinarily incompatible and exclusive of each other, had in his case by a kind destiny been made compatible.  For the representative of an old noble family to remain single, was bad in many points of view.  But on the other hand—­when one’s ancestral acres are not so extensive as they once were, and in nowise more productive—­when one likes a quiet life enlivened by a moderate degree of bachelor’s liberty,—­when one sees the interiors of divers of one’s contemporaries and friends,—­when one thinks of mothers-in-law, and sisters-in-law, and a whole ramified family-in-law!—­the Baron Manutoli, though he had grieved over the loss of his young wife when the loss was recent, was now, after some ten years of widower’s life, inclined to think that of the man, who had a legitimately born son to inherit his name and estate, who had done his duty towards society by taking a wife, and who was yet enabled to enjoy all the ease and freedom from care of a bachelor’s life, it might be said, “Omne tulit punctum.”

Far as he was from undervaluing the importance of the social duties of a man and a nobleman in respect to these matters, he had always been an earnest advocate of the marriage which Ludovico was expected to make with the Contessa Violante; and had regarded poor Paolina, from the first, as an intruder and disastrous mischief-maker; and Ludovico’s love for her as the unlucky caprice of a boy, respecting which, the evident duty of all friends was to do all they could to discourage it, put it down, and get rid of it.

So that in the matter of the commission which Ludovico had entrusted to him, the Baron was likely enough to have somewhat different views from those of his friend.

What a happy turning of misfortune into a blessing it would be, if this shocking affair should be the means of getting rid of this unlucky Paolina altogether!  Not, of course, that the Baron was capable of wishing that such getting rid of should be accomplished by the unjust condemnation of the poor girl for such a crime.  God forbid!  But, if there should be found to be a sufficient degree of suspicion—­of unexplainable mystery—­to cause the exoneration of Ludovico, and at the same time, an intimation to the Venetian stranger that she would do well to remove herself from the happy territory of the Holy Father, what a Godsend it would be!