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I will not go over all that again. I am going away to-night. That is the principal thing the only thing that concerns you. Of course, if you choose, you can get into the same train and pursue me to the end of the world. I cannot prevent you. I thought I could, but I was mistaken. I am alone. Remember that, Orsino. You know as well as I what will be said and the fact is sure to be known."
Orsino waited in vain, not knowing whether to be annoyed at the lack of consideration bestowed upon him, or to admire the tact which assumed that he would never wish to enter the Del Ferice circle. It is presumably clear that Orsino was not in love with Madame d'Aranjuez, and he himself appreciated the fact with a sense of disappointment.
The hopes of Orsino were forever at an end by this marriage of Olivia, and with his hopes, all his fruitless love seemed to vanish away, and all his thoughts were fixed on the event of his favorite, young Cesario, being changed into a fair lady.
He did not think it necessary to tell Corona of Orsino's intentions, simply because he did not believe that they would lead to anything serious, and there was no use in disturbing her unnecessarily with visions of future annoyance. If Orsino chose to speak of it to her, he was at liberty to do so.
The other men saw that he was losing and put up all they could. Orsino hesitated. Some one observed justly that he probably held a five again. The lights swam indistinctly before him and he drew another card. It was a four. Orsino laughed nervously as he gathered the notes and paid back what he had borrowed. He did not remember clearly what happened afterwards.
One may be poor, but one has no right to be mean I thought he would have got the miserable antiquary's skin." "Antiquaries can generally take care of themselves," observed Orsino incredulously. "Oh, I daresay but it looks so badly, you know. That is all I mean. When he saw me he stopped wrangling and we talked a little, while I had the embroidery wrapped up. I will show it to you after dinner.
Orsino wondered whether he were really in love with her or not. Somehow, the words he sought did not rise to his lips, and he was conscious that his speech was not of the same temperature, so to say, as his actions. There was something in Maria Consuelo's manner which disturbed him disagreeably, like a cold draught blowing unexpectedly through a warm room.
Then she had been forgotten in the general disaster that followed, and no one had taken the trouble to remember her since then. Even Gouache, who had once been so enthusiastic over her portrait, did not seem to know or care what had become of her. Once only, and quite accidentally, Orsino had authentic information of her whereabouts.
I want neither his attachment nor his devotion." "Then refuse to see him." "I cannot." "We come back to the same point again," said Orsino. "We always shall, if you talk about this. There is no other issue. Things are what they are and I cannot change them." "Do you know," said Orsino, "that all this mystery is a very serious hindrance to friendship?" Maria Consuelo was silent for a moment.
Orsino saw and heard, but the first impression was gone, and the thrill did not come back. "It was a fine sight," he said to his father, as the shout died away. "A fine sight? Have you no stronger expression than that?" "No," answered Orsino, "I have not." The ladies were already coming out of the tribunes, and Orsino saw his father give his arm to Corona to lead her through the crowd.
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