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Updated: May 7, 2025
Lights gleamed in dazzling rows within the long halls where all the flower of Tuscan nobility, and all the lords and barons and great men of other lands were assembled. For this was the day when the Count Fostello led to the altar the lovely Stella Borelloni. The Grand Duke condescended to be the head groomsman.
No, not so," answered the duke. "No longer obscure, you are the greatest in the land, and none shall call you otherwise. I name you count-and in a week your title shall be formally bestowed, so henceforth, Count Fostello, you may not be obscure." A week afterward the palace of Borelloni was all festivity.
It was at his palace that Mario Fostello had first attracted attention by his genius and the beauty his pictures. He had seen Stella, had loved her, and had spoken to the old count, telling him that he would seek after fame if he would bestow his daughter upon him.
How could it happen that it should be Stella, my daughter? Who is the artist?" "He is here in the next apartment," said the duke, and going to the door he spoke to some one. He returned, leading the artist. "This is he," said the duke. "Mario Fostello." "Mario!" cried the count. "Mario, my preserver!" And he ran up to him and embraced him. "Mario, is all forgotten? Forgive me.
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