There were several of these rallying points, among which may be chiefly noticed the Palazzo Valdarno, the Palazzo Saracinesca, and the Palazzo Montevarchi.  In the first of these three it may be observed in passing that there was a division of opinion, the old people being the most rigid of conservatives, while the children declared as loudly as they dared that they were for Victor Emmanuel and United Italy.  The Saracinesca, on the other hand, were firmly united and determined to stand by the existing order of things.  Lastly, the Montevarchi all took their opinions from the head of the house, and knew very well that they would submit like sheep to be led whichever way was most agreeable to the old prince.  The friends who frequented those various gatherings were of course careful to say whatever was most sure to please their hosts, and after the set speeches were made most of them fell to their usual occupation of talking about each other.

Gouache was an old friend of the Saracinesca, and came whenever he pleased; since his accident, too, he had become better acquainted with the Montevarchi, and was always a welcome guest, as he generally brought the latest news of the fighting, as well as the last accounts from France, which he easily got through his friendship with the young attaches of his embassy.  It is not surprising therefore that he should have found so many opportunities of meeting Donna Faustina, especially as Corona di Sant’ Ilario had taken a great fancy to the young girl and invited her constantly to the house.

On the very first occasion when Gouache called upon the Princess Montevarchi in order to express again his thanks for the kindness he had received, he found the room half full of people.  Faustina was sitting alone, turning over the pages of a book, and no one seemed to pay any attention to her.  After the usual speeches to the hostess Gouache sat down beside her.  She raised her brown eyes, recognised him, and smiled faintly.

“What a wonderful contrast you are enjoying, Donna Faustina,” said the Zouave.

“How so?  I confess it seems monotonous enough.”

“I mean that it is a great change for you, from the choir of the Sacro Cuore, from the peace of a convent, to this atmosphere of war.”

“Yes; I wish I were back again.”

“You do not like what you have seen of the world, Mademoiselle?  It is very natural.  If the world were always like this its attraction would not be dangerous.  It is the pomps and vanities that are delightful.”

“I wish they would begin then,” answered Donna Faustina with more natural frankness than is generally found in young girls of her education.

“But were you not taught by the good sisters that those things are of the devil?” asked Gouache with a smile.

“Of course.  But Flavia says they are very nice.”

Gouache imagined that Flavia ought to know, but he thought fit to conceal his conviction.