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Baldassare smiles, and shows two rows of faultless teeth. "Come and have some supper with us at the Universo. Franchi is coming, and all our set." "With the greatest pleasure," replies Baldassare, smiling. Baldassare was, of course, invited by the cavaliere to join the proposed expedition to the tombs of the Trenta and to the Guinigi Tower.
Now he moved forward, and as he did so he took Baldassare's arm, in token of forgiveness. "No names must be mentioned," he continued, tripping along "mind, no names; but I authorize you, on my authority, if you hear this abominable nonsense repeated I authorize you to say that you have it from me that Enrica Guinigi is to be married, and not to Nobili. He! he!
"I thought I had," was Nobili's reply, recalled by her movement to himself, and speaking with more composure "I thought I had but within the last three hours every thing is changed. I have been insulted at the club." "Ah! you must expect that sort of thing if you marry Enrica Guinigi. That is inevitable." Nobili knit his brows. This was hard from her.
Beautiful in itself, the Moorish garden was an incongruous appendage to a Gothic palace. One of the Guinigi, commanding for the Emperor Charles V. in Spain, saw Granada and the Alhambra. On his return to Lucca, he built this architectural plaisance on a bare plot of ground, used for jousts and tilting. That is its history. There it has been since.
That she should have been obliged to sell one of her ancestral palaces at all is to her a bitter misfortune; but that any one connected with trade should possess what had been inherited generation after generation by the Guinigi, is intolerable.
Ser Giacomo, the notary, dressed in his Sunday suit of black, remained, pen in hand, staring at the wall. Never in his humble life had he formed one of such a distinguished company. All his life Ser Giacomo had heard of the Marchesa Guinigi as a most awful lady. If Fra Pacifico had not caught him within his little office near the café, rather than have faced her, Ser Giacomo would have run away.
"My daughter," replied the priest, "if you forget the respect due to my office, I shall leave you." "Pardon me, my father," and the marchesa bowed stiffly; "but I appeal to your justice. Can I allow that reprobate to break my niece's heart? to tarnish her good name? If there were a single Guinigi left, he would stab Nobili like a dog! Such a fellow is unworthy the name of gentleman.
At first she was so stunned she forgot his name; then it came to her. Yes, the poet Marescotti Trenta's friend who had raved on the Guinigi Tower. What was he to her? Marry Marescotti! Oh! who could have said it? Gradually, as Enrica's mind became clearer, lying there so still with no sound but Pipa's measured breathing, she felt to its full extent how Nobili had wronged her.
The cavaliere felt deeply offended, but had the presence of mind to affect a smile, as though what she had said was an excellent joke. "Nobili shall never mix his blood with the Guinigi I swear it! Rather let our name die out from the land." She raised both her hands in the twilight to ratify the imprecation she had hurled upon her race.
Guglielmi thought he knew his friend and client the Marchesa Guinigi but little, if her fertile brain had not already created some complication that would have the effect of preventing Count Nobili's departure that night. The instant the immediate instant now lay with himself. He was about to make the most of it.
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