“Donna Faustina expects me,” she said, continuing to walk towards the entrance to the apartments.

“Your Excellency’s name?” inquired the man.  Corona was surprised that he should ask, and wondered whether even the people of his class already knew the result of the suit.

“Donna Corona Saracinesca,” she answered in distinct tones.  The appellation sounded strange and unfamiliar.

“Donna Corona Saracinesca,” the man repeated in a loud voice a second later.  He had almost run into San Giacinto, who was coming out at that moment.  Corona found herself face to face with her cousin.

“You—­princess!” he exclaimed, putting out his hand.  In spite of the relationship he was not privileged to call her by her name.  “You—­why does the man announce you in that way?”

Corona took his hand and looked quietly into his face.  They had not met since the decision.

“I told him to do so.  I shall be known by that name in future.  I have come to see Faustina.”  She would have passed on.

“Allow me to say,” said San Giacinto, in his deep, calm voice, “that as far as I am concerned you are, and always shall be, Princess Sant’ Ilario.  No one can regret more than I the position in which I am placed towards you and yours, and I shall certainly do all in my power to prevent any such unnecessary changes.”

“We cannot discuss that matter here,” answered Corona, speaking more coldly than she meant to do.

“I trust there need be no discussion.  I even hope that you will bear me no ill will.”

“I bear you none.  You have acted honestly and openly.  You had right on your side.  But neither my husband nor I will live under a borrowed name.”

San Giacinto seemed hurt by her answer.  He stood aside to allow her to pass, and there was something dignified in his demeanour that pleased Corona.

“The settlement is not made yet,” he said gravely.  “Until then the name is yours.”

When she was gone he looked after her with an expression of annoyance upon his face.  He understood well enough what she felt, but he was very far from wishing to let any unpleasantness arise between him and her family.  Even in the position to which he had now attained he felt that there was an element of uncertainty, and he did not feel able to dispense with the good-will of his relations, merely because he was Prince Saracinesca and master of a great fortune.  His early life had made him a cautious man, and he did not underestimate the value of personal influence.  Moreover, he had not a bad heart, and preferred if possible to be on good terms with everybody.  According to his own view he had done nothing more than claim what was legitimately his, but he did not want the enmity of those who had resigned all into his hands.