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Updated: May 15, 2025
"It seems such an unnatural thing to see a woman hunting," remarked Del Ferice, who remembered to have heard the Duchessa say something of the kind, and was consequently sure that she would agree with him. "You do not ride yourself," said Don Giovanni, shortly. "That is the reason you do not approve of it for ladies." "I am not rich enough to hunt," said Ugo, modestly.
From day to day the family had been on the point of moving to Avellino, and the departure had been put off because Gianluca's condition seemed altogether too precarious. It would be an even more serious matter to convey him safely to Muro; and between her extreme anxiety for his health, and her wish that he might be able to go, the Duchessa was almost distracted.
There were two Masses, one at eight o'clock, one at ten and the church was quite a mile from Villa Floriano, and up a hill; and the Italian sun was hot but the devoted young man went to both. The Duchessa was at neither. "What does she think will become of her immortal soul?" he asked Marietta. On Monday he went to the pink-stuccoed village post-office.
It was true that Giovanni had last been seen in the Astrardente box at the opera; but he had not remained five minutes seated by the Duchessa before he had suddenly invented a shallow excuse for leaving; and finally, there was no doubt that at that very moment Corona had seemed violently agitated.
I shall be three-and-twenty years of age on my next birthday. Ask Don Teodoro whether I am not able to take care of myself and of Muro, too, for that matter!" "Who is Don Teodoro?" asked the Duchessa, nervously, and still altogether horrified. "The parish priest," said Veronica. "A very learned and charitable old man. He dines with me every evening."
"And I have no means of offering you a fire there are no fireplaces," he groaned, with a gesture round the bleak Italian room, to certify their absence. "Is n't there a kitchen?" asked the Duchessa, a faint spark of raillery kindling amid the forlornness of her smile. Peter threw up his hands. "I had lost my head. The kitchen, of course. I 'll tell Marietta to light a fire."
Oh, if you could see her, if you could hear her speak, if you could look into her eyes if you could see her as others see her you would not ask whether there was a disappointment. She is... No; the language is not yet invented, in which I could describe her." The Duchessa smiled, softly, to herself. "And you are in love with her more or less?" she asked.
It was the best thing in her nature, but it was more than balanced by the jealousy she had conceived for the Duchessa d'Astrardente. "Was it on that account that you quarrelled with poor Del Ferice?" she asked, after a moment's pause. "I have feared it " "Certainly not," answered Giovanni, quickly. "Pray set your mind at rest.
"And that old Marietta? I trust she does for you fairly well?" "She does for me to perfection. That old Marietta is a priceless old jewel," Peter vowed. "A good cook?" questioned the Duchessa. "A good cook but also a counsellor and friend. And with a flow of language!" The Duchessa laughed again. "Oh, these Lombard peasant women. They are untiring chatterers."
I tried to make my eyes tell him that my fear was no vague one of the streets, that his throat was in peril here and now. He understood; he cried with merry laughter to Mme. de Montpensier: "Pray excuse her lack of manners, duchessa. I know what moves the maid. I must tell you that in the house where we lodge dwells also a beautiful young captain beautiful as the day.
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