Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 25, 2025
He sympathised with Orsino in his desire to be freer and more independent, but reminded him that when the day of liberation came, he would not regret the comparatively short apprenticeship during which he had acquired so great a mastery of business. Business, he said, had been Orsino's ambition from the beginning, and business he had, in plenty, if not with profit.
But Del Ferice was a busy man and not always punctual, so that to Orsino's considerable confusion, he found Maria Consuelo alone, in spite of his precaution. He was so much surprised as to become awkward, for the first time in his life, and he felt the blood rising in his face, dark as he was. "Will you forgive me?" he asked, almost timidly, as he held out his hand.
She looked at him quickly as though wondering what he would say next. "I never meant to be unkind," she said. "I have often asked myself whether you could say as much." It was Orsino's turn to change colour. He was young enough for that, and the blood rose slowly in his dark cheeks. He thought again of their last meeting, and of what he had heard as he shut the door after him on that day.
She had refused Orsino's pressing offer to bring her into relations with his mother, whose influence would have been enough to straighten a reputation far more doubtful than Maria Consuelo's, and she had almost wilfully thrown herself into a sort of intimacy with the Countess Del Ferice.
Orsino had not been rebuked for his curiosity and would have asked another question if he had known how to frame it. An awkward silence followed. Maria Consuelo raised her eyes slowly and looked thoughtfully into Orsino's face. "I see," she said at last. "You are curious. I do not know whether you have any right to be have you?" "I wish I had!" exclaimed Orsino thoughtlessly.
Then, on a certain afternoon in November, he appeared, alone and in a cab, as though he had been out for a stroll. "Well, my boy, are you ruined yet?" he inquired, entering Orsino's room without ceremony. The young man started from his seat and took the old gentleman's rough hand, with an exclamation of surprise. "Yes you may well look at me," laughed the Prince. "I have grown ten years younger.
A golden youth, a golden river flowing softly to the red gold sunset of the end that is life as it seems to Anastase and Faustina. On the morning which opens this chronicle, Anastase was standing before his canvas, palette and brushes in hand, considering the nature of the human face in general and of young Orsino's face in particular.
He was exchanging indifferent remarks with Donna Tullia, while Del Ferice looked on benignantly, and all three waited for Madame d'Aranjuez. Five minutes had not elapsed before she came, and her appearance momentarily dispelled Orsino's annoyance at his own rashness.
Not even yesterday had she been shaken for a moment in her resolution not to be Orsino's wife. To-day had confirmed yesterday therefore. However Orsino might have still doubted her intention when he had gone to her side for the last time, her behaviour then and her final words had been unmistakable. She meant to leave Rome at once.
Olivia, curious to see who this peremptory messenger might be, desired he might be admitted; and throwing her veil over her face, she said she would once more hear Orsino's embassy, not doubting but that he came from the duke, by his importunity.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking