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Gheta's grief and their mother's anxiety at first seemed so foolishly disproportionate to their cause. Then a realization of what such an occurrence meant to Gheta dawned upon her. To an acknowledged beauty like Gheta Sanviano the marks of Time were an absolute tragedy; they threatened her on every plane of her being. "But when " Lavinia began.

Lavinia wore only a simple white slip, confined about her flexible waist with a yellow ribbon; and she was painfully conscious of the contrast she presented to the two women seated in the front of the window. The fact was that a whole fifth of the Sanvianos' income was spent on Gheta's clothes; and this left only the most meager provision for Lavinia.

Then she became easier; spurred partly by Gheta's direct unpleasantness and partly by the consciousness of her becoming appearance, she retorted with spirit; engaged Pier Mantegazza in a duet of verbal confetti. She gazed challengingly at Abrego y Mochales, but got no other answer than a grave perfunctory inclination.

She wouldn't have dresses so fussy as Gheta's in figure, anyhow, she was perhaps her sister's superior fine materials, simply cut, with a ruffle at the throat and hem, a satin wrap pointed at the back, with a soft tassel.... Orsi was talking to Gheta, and she was answering him with a brevity that had cast a shade of annoyance over the Marchese Sanviano's large features.

"I knew nothing myself until a little bit ago," Lavinia explained apologetically, filled with a formless pity for Gheta. "Isn't it pretty? Anna Mantegazza gave it to me." She could see, over Gheta's shoulder, Cesare Orsi staring at her in idiotic surprise. "Don't you like it, Gheta?" Anna asked.

"What is it that you don't understand, Cesare?" she asked. "Some infernal joke or foolishness!" "It is no joke, signore," Mochales responded; "and it is better, perhaps, for your wife to leave us." Orsi turned to Lavinia. "He gives me back this necklace of Gheta's," he explained; "he says that he has every right.

Gheta, she learned, had refused the morning chocolate and, with her maid, had collected and packed all her effects. Lavinia had no desire to see her. The situation now was past Gheta's mending. After luncheon Lavinia remained in her room, Nelli departed for Naples and Cesare joined her. It was evident that he was greatly disturbed; but he spoke to her evenly.

Lavinia followed, with Gheta's maid and a porter in the rear. Lavinia realized that her sister looked badly; in the unsparing blaze of midday the wrinkles about her eyes were apparent, and they had multiplied.

The way grew steep and she rested a hand on Orsi's arm. Anna, Lavinia and the Flower of Spain followed together, until the first moved forward to join the leaders. Lavinia's gaze was obscured by a sort of warm mist; she clasped her hands to keep them from trembling. In a narrow flagged turn Mochales brushed her shoulder. He scarcely moved his eyes from Gheta's back.

Before the mirror, in an unsatisfactory lamplight, she studied her appearance in comparison with Gheta's. She lacked the latter's lustrous pallor, the petal-like richness of Gheta's skin. Lavinia's cheeks bore a perceptible flush, which she detested and tried vainly to mask with powder.