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"I love you too much to lose that chance of winning you, even for the sake of saving the Duchessa d'Astrardente from her fate. Why do you refuse? why do you bargain?" he asked, suddenly turning towards her. "Does all my devotion count for nothing all my love, all my years of patient waiting? Oh, you cannot be so cruel as to snatch the cup from my very lips!
Saracinesca looked up and started. The Duchessa d'Astrardente raised her black eyebrows in surprise. "Our dance!" exclaimed Giovanni, in considerable agitation. "It is the one after this " "On the contrary," said Donna Tullia, in tones trembling with rage, "it is already over. It is the most unparalleled insolence!" Giovanni was profoundly disgusted at himself and Donna Tullia.
She had just entered when she was aware of the tall figure of Corona d'Astrardente coming towards her, magnificent in the simplicity of her furs, a short veil just covering half her face, and an unwonted colour in her dark cheeks. Corona was surprised at meeting Madame Mayer, but she did not show it. She nodded with a sufficiently pleasant smile, and would have passed on.
I have come by the information without any evidence of it from his lips." "Then I am at a loss to understand you," returned the Duchessa. "I must beg you either to explain your extraordinary language, or else to leave me." Corona d'Astrardente was a match for any man when she was angry.
The Duchessa d'Astrardente made her speech to her hostess and passed on, still followed by the two men; but they now approached her, one on each side, and endeavoured to engage her attention.
He knew how of all things a proud woman hates to know that where she has placed her heart there is no response, and that if she fails to awaken an affection akin to her own, what has been love may be turned to loathing, or at least to indifference. The strong character of the Duchessa d'Astrardente responded to his touch as he expected.
"Better to say nothing about it better to refer people to Del Ferice, and tell them he challenged me. Come in!" cried Giovanni, in answer to a knock at the door. Pasquale, the old butler, entered the room. "The Duca d'Astrardente has sent to inquire after the health of his Excellency Don Giovanni," said the old man, respectfully.
She clasped him wildly in her arms. "O God, have mercy!" Onofrio d'Astrardente was dead. The poor old dandy, in his paint and his wig and his padding, had died at his wife's feet, protesting his love for her to the last. The long averted blow had fallen.
But the great Cardinal was probably well informed, and his words had not fallen upon a barren soil. Giovanni had vacillated sadly in trying to come to a decision. His first Quixotic impulse to marry Madame Mayer, in order to show the world that he cared nothing for Corona d'Astrardente, had proved itself absurd, even to his impetuous intelligence.
It was true that, when occasion offered, he had permitted himself the pleasure of talking to Corona d'Astrardente talking, he well knew, upon the most general subjects, but finding at each interview some new point of sympathy.
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