“You are very good to make the proposal,” he answered.  “I cannot say more than that.  I agree with my father.”

A silence followed which lasted several minutes.  Corona looked from one to the other of the three men, wondering how the matter would end.  She understood both parties better than they understood each other.  She sympathised with the refusal of her husband and his father.  To accept such an offer would put them in a position of obligation towards San Giacinto which she knew they could never endure, and which would be galling to herself.  On the other hand she felt sorry for their cousin, who was evidently trying to do what he felt was right and generous, and was disappointed that his advances should be repelled.  He was very much in earnest, or he would not have gone so far as to suggest that it would be a favour to him if they took what he offered.  He was so simple, and yet so dignified withal, that she could not help liking him.  It was not clear to her, however, that she could mend matters by interfering, nor by offering advice to the one or sympathy to the other.

Saracinesca himself was the first to break the silence.  It seemed to him that everything had been said, and that nothing now remained but to fulfil the requisite formalities.

“Shall we proceed to business?” he inquired, as though ignoring all the previous conversation.  “I believe we have a great deal to do, and the time is passing.”

San Giacinto made no reply, but rose gravely and made a gesture signifying that he would show the way to the study.  Saracinesca made a show of refusing to go out first, then yielded and went on.  San Giacinto waited at the door for Corona and Giovanni.  “I will join you in a moment—­I know the way,” said the latter, remaining behind with his wife.

When they were alone he led her towards one of the windows, as though to be doubly sure that no one could hear what he was about to say.  Then he stood still and looked into her eyes.

“Would you like us to accept such a favour from him?” he asked.  “Tell me the truth.”

“No,” answered Corona without the least hesitation.  “But I am sorry for San Giacinto.  I think he is really trying to do right, and to be generous.  He was hurt by your father’s answer.”

“If I thought it would give you pleasure to feel that we could go to Saracinesca, I would try and make my father change his mind.”

“Would you?” She knew very well what a sacrifice it would be to his pride.

“Yes, dear.  I would do it for you.”

“Giovanni—­how good you are!”

“No—­I am not good.  I love you.  That is all.  Shall I try?”

“Never!  I am sorry for San Giacinto—­but I could no more live in the old house, or in Saracinesca, than you could.  Do I not feel all that you feel, and more?”

“All?”

“All.”