United States or Togo ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The parents of a young noble might well try to prevent him from marrying an unknown and penniless girl. The Marchese Vivaldi only adopts the ordinary paternal measures; the Marchesa, and her confessor the dark-souled Schedoni, go farther as far as assassination.
In an instant Bastianello produced a decanter out of a bucket of snow and brought it aft with a glass. The Marchesa smiled. "You do things very well, dearest friend," she said, and moistened her lips in the cold liquid. "Donna Beatrice has had more to do with providing for your comfort than I," answered the Count.
Beatrice!" cried the Marchesa, with the same affectation of horror as before. "Dear mamma, are you uncomfortable? Oh no! I see now. You are horrified. Have I said anything dreadful?" she asked, turning to San Miniato. "Anything dreadful? What an idea! Really, Marchesa carissima, I was just beginning to explain to Donna Beatrice what charm is, when you cut me short.
"A great success. I took a few turns myself with Teresa Ottolini tra la la la la," and he swayed his head and shoulders to and fro as he hummed a waltz-tune. "You!" exclaimed the marchesa, staring at him with a look of contempt "you!" "Yes. Why not? I am as young as ever, dear marchesa eighty, the prime of life!"
Is that your intention?" "That I couldn't say," said the Marchesa, smoking, smoking. "Yes," said Manfredi. "At the present time it is because she WILL not not because she cannot. It is her will, as you say." "Dear me! Dear me!" said Algy. "But this is really another disaster added to the war list. But but will none of us ever be able to persuade you?"
The marchesa, if displeased, was quite capable of carrying her away from Lucca to Corellia perhaps leaving her there alone in the mountains. She might even shut her up in a convent for life! Then she should die! No, she would say nothing. The marchesa was, as I have said, in a very bad humor.
Angelo was proud to show his alacrity to his reverence, who had often cuffed him for his mischievous pranks; specially on one occasion, when Fra Pacifico had found him in the act of pushing Gigi stealthily into the marble basin of the fountain, to see if, being small, Gigi would swim like the gold-fish. "Go to the Signorina Enrica, Angelo, and tell her that the marchesa wants her."
"Believe me," he urges, "I have been driven mad by the marchesa! It is my only excuse." "Am I?" Enrica answers. "Have I not suffered enough from my aunt? What had she to do between you and me? Did I love you less because she hated you? Listen, Nobili" Enrica with difficulty commands her voice "from the first time we met in the cathedral I gave myself to you you you only."
And somehow, under the influence of Lilly, he refused to follow the reflex of his own passion. He refused to hate the Marchesa. He did like her. He did esteem her. And after all, she too was struggling with her fate. He had a genuine sympathy with her. Nay, he was not going to hate her. But he could not see her. He could not bear the thought that she might call and see him.
"The Marchesa is a charming woman. Her husband was an attache at the Italian Embassy in Paris. But he has been transferred to Washington, so she has gone back to Florence. I like her immensely, and I do so want to visit her." "Oh, you must persuade your mother to take you," he said. "She'll be easily persuaded." "I don't know. She doesn't like travelling in Italy.
Word Of The Day