Part 16 (1/2)
”Fair play, signor! Fair play! Strength becomes mere bullying when it is employed against absolute weakness.”
Ferrari laughed again, but this time uneasily, and ceasing his monkeyish pranks, walked to the window. Smoothing Stella's tumbled hair, I added with a sarcastic smile:
”This little donzella, will have her revenge when she grows up.
Recollecting how one man teased her in childhood, she, in return, will consider herself justified in teasing all men. Do you not agree with me, madame?” I said, turning to my wife, who gave me a sweetly coquettish look as she answered:
”Well, really, conte, I do not know! For with the remembrance of one man who teased her, must come also the thought of another who was kind to her--yourself--she will find it difficult to decide the juste milieu.”
A subtle compliment was meant to be conveyed in these words. I acknowledged it by a silent gesture of admiration, which she quickly understood and accepted. Was ever a man in the position of being delicately flattered by his own wife before? I think not! Generally married persons are like candid friends--fond of telling each other very unpleasant truths, and altogether avoiding the least soupcon of flattery. Though I was not so much flattered as amused--considering the position of affairs. Just then a servant threw open the door and announced dinner. I set my child very gently down from my knee and whisperingly told her that I would come and see her soon again. She smiled trustfully, and then in obedience to her mother's imperative gesture, slipped quietly out of the room. As soon as she had gone I praised her beauty warmly, for she was really a lovely little thing--but I could see my admiration of her was not very acceptable to either my wife or her lover. We all went in to dinner--I, as guest, having the privilege of escorting my fair and spotless spouse! On our reaching the dining-room Nina said--
”You are such an old friend of the family, conte, that perhaps you will not mind sitting at the head of the table?”
”Tropp' onore, signora!” I answered, bowing gallantly, as I at once resumed my rightful place at my own table, Ferrari placing himself on my right hand, Nina on my left. The butler, my father's servant and mine, stood as of old behind my chair, and I noticed that each time he supplied me with wine he eyed me with a certain timid curiosity--but I knew I had a singular and conspicuous appearance, which easily accounted for his inquisitiveness. Opposite to where I sat, hung my father's portrait--the character I personated permitted me to look at it fixedly and give full vent to the deep sigh which in very earnest broke from my heart. The eyes of the picture seemed to gaze into mine with a sorrowful compa.s.sion--almost I fancied the firm-set lips trembled and moved to echo my sigh.
”Is that a good likeness?” Ferrari asked, suddenly.
I started, and recollecting myself, answered: ”Excellent! So true a resemblance that it arouses along train of memories in my mind--memories both bitter and sweet. Ah! what a proud fellow he was!”
”Fabio was also very proud,” chimed in my wife's sweet voice. ”Very cold and haughty.”
Little liar! How dared she utter this libel on my memory! Haughty, I might have been to others, but never to her--and coldness was no part of my nature. Would that it were! Would that I had been a pillar of ice, incapable of thawing in the sunlight of her witching smile! Had she forgotten what a slave I was to her? what a poor, adoring, pa.s.sionate fool I became under the influence of her hypocritical caresses! I thought this to myself, but I answered aloud:
”Indeed! I am surprised to hear that. The Romani hauteur had ever to my mind something genial and yielding about it--I know my friend was always most gentle to his dependents.”
The butler here coughed apologetically behind his hand--an old trick of his, and one which signified his intense desire to speak.
Ferrari laughed, as he held out his gla.s.s for more wine.
”Here is old Giacomo,” he said, nodding to him lightly. ”He remembers both the Romanis--ask him HIS opinion of Fabio--he wors.h.i.+ped his master.”
I turned to my servant, and with a benignant air addressed him:
”Your face is not familiar to me, my friend,” I said. ”Perhaps you were not here when I visited the elder Count Romani?”
”No, eccellenza,” replied Giacomo, rubbing his withered hands nervously together, and speaking with a sort of suppressed eagerness, ”I came into my lord's service only a year before the countess died--I mean the mother of the young count.”
”Ah! then I missed making your acquaintance,” I said, kindly, pitying the poor old fellow, as I noticed how his lips trembled, and how altogether broken he looked. ”You knew the last count from childhood, then?”
”I did, eccellenza!” And his bleared eyes roved over me with a sort of alarmed inquiry.
”You loved him well?” I said, composedly, observing him with embarra.s.sment.
”Eccellenza, I never wish to serve a better master. He was goodness itself--a fine, handsome, generous lad--the saints have his soul in their keeping! Though sometimes I cannot believe he is dead--my old heart almost broke when I heard it. I have never been the same since--my lady will tell you so--she is often displeased with me.”
And he looked wistfully at her; there was a note of pleading in his hesitating accents. My wife's delicate brows drew together in a frown, a frown that I had once thought came from mere petulance, but which I was now inclined to accept as a sign of temper. ”Yes, indeed, Giacomo,”
she said, in hard tones, altogether unlike her usual musical voice.
”You are growing so forgetful that it is positively annoying. You know I have often to tell you the same thing several times. One command ought to be sufficient for you.”
Giacomo pa.s.sed his hand over his forehead in a troubled way, sighed, and was silent. Then, as if suddenly recollecting his duty, he refilled my gla.s.s, and shrinking aside, resumed his former position behind my chair.
The conversation now turned on desultory and indifferent matters. I knew my wife was an excellent talker, but on that particular evening I think she surpa.s.sed herself. She had resolved to fascinate me, THAT I saw at once, and she spared no pains to succeed in her ambition.