Part 19 (2/2)
he asked.
”Oh, he 's very proud!” said the Cavaliere.
”That 's all very well, but a gentleman who cultivates a pa.s.sion for that young lady must be prepared to make sacrifices.”
”He thinks he has already made a great many. He comes of a very great family--a race of princes who for six hundred years have married none but the daughters of princes. But he is seriously in love, and he would marry her to-morrow.”
”And she will not have him?”
”Ah, she is very proud, too!” The Cavaliere was silent a moment, as if he were measuring the propriety of frankness. He seemed to have formed a high opinion of Rowland's discretion, for he presently continued: ”It would be a great match, for she brings him neither a name nor a fortune--nothing but her beauty. But the signorina will receive no favors; I know her well! She would rather have her beauty blasted than seem to care about the marriage, and if she ever accepts the prince it will be only after he has implored her on his knees!”
”But she does care about it,” said Rowland, ”and to bring him to his knees she is working upon his jealousy by pretending to be interested in my friend Hudson. If you said more, you would say that, eh?”
The Cavaliere's shrewdness exchanged a glance with Rowland's. ”By no means. Miss Light is a singular girl; she has many romantic ideas.
She would be quite capable of interesting herself seriously in an interesting young man, like your friend, and doing her utmost to discourage a splendid suitor, like the prince. She would act sincerely and she would go very far. But it would be unfortunate for the young man,” he added, after a pause, ”for at the last she would retreat!”
”A singular girl, indeed!”
”She would accept the more brilliant parti. I can answer for it.”
”And what would be her motive?”
”She would be forced. There would be circ.u.mstances.... I can't tell you more.”
”But this implies that the rejected suitor would also come back. He might grow tired of waiting.”
”Oh, this one is good! Look at him now.” Rowland looked, and saw that the prince had left his place by Mrs. Light and was marching restlessly to and fro between the villa and the parapet of the terrace. Every now and then he looked at his watch. ”In this country, you know,” said the Cavaliere, ”a young lady never goes walking alone with a handsome young man. It seems to him very strange.”
”It must seem to him monstrous, and if he overlooks it he must be very much in love.”
”Oh, he will overlook it. He is far gone.”
”Who is this exemplary lover, then; what is he?”
”A Neapolitan; one of the oldest houses in Italy. He is a prince in your English sense of the word, for he has a princely fortune. He is very young; he is only just of age; he saw the signorina last winter in Naples. He fell in love with her from the first, but his family interfered, and an old uncle, an ecclesiastic, Monsignor B----, hurried up to Naples, seized him, and locked him up. Meantime he has pa.s.sed his majority, and he can dispose of himself. His relations are moving heaven and earth to prevent his marrying Miss Light, and they have sent us word that he forfeits his property if he takes his wife out of a certain line. I have investigated the question minutely, and I find this is but a fiction to frighten us. He is perfectly free; but the estates are such that it is no wonder they wish to keep them in their own hands. For Italy, it is an extraordinary case of uninc.u.mbered property. The prince has been an orphan from his third year; he has therefore had a long minority and made no inroads upon his fortune. Besides, he is very prudent and orderly; I am only afraid that some day he will pull the purse-strings too tight. All these years his affairs have been in the hands of Monsignor B----, who has managed them to perfection--paid off mortagages, planted forests, opened up mines. It is now a magnificent fortune; such a fortune as, with his name, would justify the young man in pretending to any alliance whatsoever. And he lays it all at the feet of that young girl who is wandering in yonder boschetto with a penniless artist.”
”He is certainly a phoenix of princes! The signora must be in a state of bliss.”
The Cavaliere looked imperturbably grave. ”The signora has a high esteem for his character.”
”His character, by the way,” rejoined Rowland, with a smile; ”what sort of a character is it?”
”Eh, Prince Casama.s.sima is a veritable prince! He is a very good young man. He is not brilliant, nor witty, but he 'll not let himself be made a fool of. He 's very grave and very devout--though he does propose to marry a Protestant. He will handle that point after marriage. He 's as you see him there: a young man without many ideas, but with a very firm grasp of a single one--the conviction that Prince Casama.s.sima is a very great person, that he greatly honors any young lady by asking for her hand, and that things are going very strangely when the young lady turns her back upon him. The poor young man, I am sure, is profoundly perplexed. But I whisper to him every day, 'Pazienza, Signor Principe!'”
”So you firmly believe,” said Rowland, in conclusion, ”that Miss Light will accept him just in time not to lose him!”
”I count upon it. She would make too perfect a princess to miss her destiny.”
”And you hold that nevertheless, in the mean while, in listening to, say, my friend Hudson, she will have been acting in good faith?”
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