Part 5 (2/2)

Then, half broken-hearted, she had listened to Ghisleri; and he loved her truly, with all his heart. Even society found little to say at that, and perhaps there was little enough to be said. To all intents and purposes, Corleone had abandoned her, and Ghisleri was often with her.

It was not until later that her brother, Gianforte Campodonico, lifted up his hand against Ghisleri for the first time.

So Ghisleri was sitting beside Bianca on that morning, in her garden, when there was a sound of wheels, behind the house; and then, unannounced, as one familiar with the place, Veronica Serra came swiftly down the walk towards the pair. Ghisleri rose to his feet,--a tall, fair man, sunburnt, lean and strong, with bright blue eyes,--and Bianca turned in her chair, with a smile, and held out her hand, as she sat, to the young girl.

”You do not mind?” asked Veronica, smiling innocently. ”Am I not interrupting you?”

”No, dear--no.” A very faint dawn of colour rose in Bianca's almost unnatural pallor.

”Something so strange has happened,” said Veronica.

Then she nodded to Pietro Ghisleri, realizing that she had forgotten him. He moved forward for her the chair on which he had been sitting, while he continued to stand. Veronica had often met him there before.

”Donna Veronica has something to say to you,” he said to Bianca. ”If you will allow me, I will go up to the stable and look at that dog.”

Bianca nodded, as though it were a matter of course that Pietro should look after her dogs when there was anything the matter with them, and Veronica sat down. Her expression was strange, Bianca thought, as though she did not know whether to laugh or cry. Yet she looked fresh and well and not tired. The girl told her story in half a dozen words, as soon as Ghisleri was out of hearing.

”They want me to marry Bosio,” she said, and then drew breath, holding both of Bianca's hands and looking into her eyes.

”You? Marry Bosio Macomer? Oh! no--Veronica--no!”

Bianca's voice expressed the greatest apprehension, for Veronica was almost her only intimate friend. Veronica seemed surprised.

”Why not?” she asked. ”That is, if I wished to. Why do you speak in that way? Do you know anything about him which I do not know? You must have some reason.”

Bianca's exquisite face grew calm and grave, and she looked away, and waited some seconds before she spoke. The sins of the earth were familiar to her before her time, and suffering and the payment. But Veronica was a child.

”It seems unfitting,” she said quietly. ”He is almost like your uncle.

Of course, one may marry one's uncle--but he is too old for you, dear.

And, after all, with your name, and all you have--”

”But I like Bosio,” answered Veronica, simply. ”He is always good to me.

I talk with him a great deal. And he is really not old, though his hair is a little grey. I think I would perhaps rather have him just for a friend, instead of a husband. But then, he would be both. I do not know what to do, so I came to you for advice.”

”Why do you not marry Gianluca della Spina?” asked Bianca, suddenly.

”Don Gianluca?” repeated Veronica, rather blankly. ”Why him, particularly? I have only seen him three or four times.”

”He is dying of love for you, my dear,” said Bianca. ”At least, every one says so. I have heard it from Taquisara and from Signor Ghisleri, who are friends of his.”

”Dying of love for me?” Veronica broke out in a girlish laugh. ”How absurd! Why does he not ask for me, if that is true? Not that I would ever marry him! He is like a Perugino angel, with his yellow hair and blue eyes.”

She laughed again. Bianca knew from Ghisleri that Gianluca's father had done his best to bring about the marriage. She was amazed to find that Veronica knew nothing of the negotiations.

”It is very strange,” she said thoughtfully, and hesitating as to how much she should tell of what she had heard.

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