United States or El Salvador ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The family is dying out. When Marchesa Boccarini dies, the palace will be sold, and the money divided among her daughters. As dusk was settling into night a carriage rattled along the deserted street. The horses a pair of splendid bays struck sparks out of the granite pavement. With a bang they draw up at the entrance, under an archway, guarded by a grille of rusty iron.
Be that as it may, the term is a bitter reproach, it sticks to her who has earned it and often ruins her whole life. That is what the Marchesa meant when she told Beatrice that she knew what the world would call her, and the threat had weight. The young girl rose from her seat and began to walk to and fro on the terrace, her head bent, her hands clasped together.
She despises priests, laughs at miracles, and detests festivals. "A loss of time, and, if of time, of money," she says. If the peasants and the people complain of the taxes, and won't work six days in the week, "Let them starve," says the marchesa "let them starve; so much the better!"
"I believe so; but I should be sorry to induce you to run any risk; and if, on cool consideration, you think that risk is incurred, I strongly advise you to avoid all occasion of seeing the poor marchesa. Ah, you wince; but I say it for her sake as well as your own.
The sun strikes upon his fresh-complexioned face and lights up his fair hair and restless eyes. It is clear to see no care has yet troubled that curly head of his. Nobili is closely followed by a lady of mature age, dark, thin, and sharp-featured. She has a glass in her eye, with which she peers at every thing and everybody. This is the Marchesa Boccarini.
You may think my eyes are dim, but I can see as far as another." And the old hag chuckles spitefully, and winks at Brigitta, enjoying her surprise. "Madre di Dio!" exclaims this one. "There will be fine work." "Yes, truly, very fine work. The marchesa shall know it; all Lucca shall know it too mark my words, all Lucca! Curses on the Guinigi root and branch! I will humble them!
The marchesa had come by this time to look on the count as a bore, of whom she was anxious to rid herself. She was so anxious, indeed, to rid herself of him that she actually assented. "My niece, Signore Conte," she said, stiffly, "shall be ready with her gouvernante and the Cavaliere Trenta, at eleven o'clock to-morrow. Now good-night!"
His visits to the Via Santa Eufemia had been more frequent than ever; his visits to the Marchesa Anna Lanfredi and her niece rarer than ever. And he had received neither lectures nor remonstrances for a long time past. In truth, the Marchese had his mind too full of other matters to think much of his nephew's affairs or doings.
And now he sat, weak in every limb, and said to himself: "Yes and if I hadn't rushed along so full of feeling: if I hadn't exposed myself: if I hadn't got worked up with the Marchesa, and then rushed all kindled through the streets, without reserve, it would never have happened. I gave myself away: and there was someone ready to snatch what I gave. I gave myself away. It is my own fault.
Why had the marchesa offered her in marriage to Count Marescotti without telling her? At this moment Enrica loathed her. Something of all this passed over her pallid face as she turned her eyes beseechingly toward Fra Pacifico. The marchesa watched her with secret rage. Was this silly, love-sick child about to annihilate the labors of her life?
Word Of The Day