Part 13 (2/2)
”Ah, poor unfortunate Fabio,” she sighed. ”How terrible it seems that he is not here to greet you! How gladly he would have welcomed any friend of his father's--he adored his father, poor fellow! I cannot realize that he is dead. It was too sudden, too dreadful! I do not think I shall ever recover the shock of his loss!”
And her eyes actually filled with tears; though the fact did not surprise me in the least, for many women can weep at will. Very little practice is necessary--and we men are such fools, we never know how it is done; we take all the pretty feigned piteousness for real grief, and torture ourselves to find methods of consolation for the feminine sorrows which have no root save in vanity and selfishness. I glanced quickly from my wife to Ferrari: he coughed, and appeared embarra.s.sed--he was not so good an actor as she was an actress.
Studying them both, I know not which feeling gained the mastery in my mind--contempt or disgust.
”Console yourself, madame,” I said, coldly. ”Time should be quick to heal the wounds of one so young and beautiful as you are! Personally speaking, I much regret your husband's death, but I would entreat YOU not to give way to grief, which, however sincere, must unhappily be useless. Your life lies before you--and may happy days and as fair a future await you as you deserve!”
She smiled, her tear-drops vanished like morning dew disappearing in the heat.
”I thank you for your good wishes, conte,” she said ”but it rests with you to commence my happy days by honoring me with a visit. You will come, will you not? My house and all that it contains are at your service!”
I hesitated. Ferrari looked amused.
”Madame is not aware of your dislike to the society of ladies, conte,”
he said, and there was a touch of mockery in his tone. I glanced at him coldly, and addressed my answer to my wife.
”Signor Ferrari is perfectly right,” I said, bending over her, and speaking in a low tone; ”I am often ungallant enough to avoid the society of mere women, but, alas! I have no armor of defense against the smile of an angel.”
And I bowed with a deep and courtly reverence. Her face brightened--she adored her own loveliness, and the desire of conquest awoke in her immediately. She took a gla.s.s of wine from my hand with a languid grace, and fixed her glorious eyes full on me with a smile.
”That is a very pretty speech,” she said, sweetly, ”and it means, of course, that you will come to-morrow. Angels exact obedience! Gui--, I mean Signor Ferrari, you will accompany the conte and show him the way to the villa?”
Ferrari bent his head with some stiffness. He looked slightly sullen.
”I am glad to see,” he observed, with some petulance, ”that your persuasions have carried more conviction to the Conte Oliva than mine.
To me he was apparently inflexible.”
She laughed gayly. ”Of course! It is only a woman who can always win her own way--am I not right, conte?” And she glanced up at me with an arch expression of mingled mirth and malice. What a love of mischief she had! She saw that Guido was piqued, and she took intense delight in teasing him still further.
”I cannot tell, madame,” I answered her. ”I know so little of your charming s.e.x that I need to be instructed. But I instinctively feel that YOU must be right, whatever you say. Your eyes would convert an infidel!”
Again she looked at me with one of those wonderfully brilliant, seductive, arrowy glances--then she rose to take her leave.
”An angel's visit truly,” I said, lightly, ”sweet, but brief!”
”We shall meet to-morrow,” she replied, smiling. ”I consider I have your promise; you must not fail me! Come as early as you like in the afternoon, then you will see my little girl Stella. She is very like poor Fabio. Till to-morrow, adieu!”
She extended her hand. I raised it to my lips. She smiled as she withdrew it, and looking at me, or rather at the gla.s.ses I wore, she inquired:
”You suffer with your eyes?”
”Ah, madame, a terrible infirmity! I cannot endure the light. But I should not complain--it is a weakness common to age.”
”You do not seem to be old,” she said, thoughtfully. With a woman's quick eye she had noted, I suppose, the unwrinkled smoothness of my skin, which no disguise could alter. But I exclaimed with affected surprise:
<script>