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Updated: June 3, 2025
The window was deserted, and the women trailed gracefully toward the bubbling minor note of the alcohol lamp. Both Sanviano and Orsi were big men the former, like Bembo, wore English clothes; but Orsi's ungainly body had been tightly garbed by a Southern military tailor, making him Lavinia thought appear absolutely ridiculous.
"The Contessa Mantegazza," Bembo said suavely, "Signorina Sanviano, this is Abrego y Mochales." The bull-fighter bowed with magnificent flexibility. A hot resentment possessed Lavinia at Bembo's apparent ignoring of her; but he had not seen her at first and hastened to repair his omission. Lavinia inclined her head stiffly.
The Spaniard regarded Gheta Sanviano so fixedly that after a moment she turned, in a species of constraint, to Anna. The latter spoke with her customary facility and the man responded gravely. They stood a little aside from Lavinia; she only partly heard their remarks, but she saw that Abrego y Mochales' attention never strayed from her sister. Vicariously it made her giddy.
He's as proud as the devil duchesses, you see so no airs with him. The Flower of Spain. A king of sport sits high at the table " He went on, apparently interminable; but Lavinia turned away to where tea was being laid in a far angle. Others approached over the tiled hall and the Marchese Sanviano entered with Cesare Orsi.
Lavinia's eyes seemed bluer, her delicate flush more elusive; the shape of her face appeared changed, it was more pointed and had a new willful charm. "The stockings," Anna commanded. Dressed, Lavinia Sanviano stood curiously before the long mirror; she saw a fresh Lavinia that was yet the old; and she was absorbing her first great lesson in the magic of clothes.
"What!" she demanded directly. "Didn't he " "Yes," Sanviano replied, "he did! He wants to marry Lavinia." Lavinia half rose, with a horrified protest; Gheta seemed suddenly turned to stone; the knitting fell unheeded from the marchesa's lap. Sanviano spread out his hands helplessly. "Well," he demanded, "what could I do?... A man with Orsi's blameless character and the Orsi banks!"
Gheta Sanviano turned and saw Lavinia approaching, and the elder's face, always pale, grew suddenly chalky; it was drawn, and the wrinkles, carefully treated with paste, became visible about her eyes. Her hands shook a little as she took a step forward. "What does this mean, Lavinia?" she demanded. "Why did I know nothing about that dress?"
Lavinia, too, knew the dwelling well, for Sanviano and Pier Mantegazza had been intimate from their similar beginnings, and she had played there as a child. However, she had never been regularly asked with Gheta; and when that occurred Gheta indifferently delivered Anna Mantegazza's message and her mother acquiesced, Lavinia had a renewed sense of her growing importance.
"Lavinia Sanviano!" she spoke aloud, with the extraordinary sensation of addressing, in her reflection, a stranger. She could never, never wear her hair down again, she thought with an odd pang. Gheta invariably took breakfast in her room. It was a larger chamber by far than Lavinia's, toward the Via Garibaldi.
"Sanviano will be absolutely contented to have you in my care. I am delighted. You shall go home directly in my carriage." He conducted her, with a show of form that in any one else or at another time she would have enjoyed hugely, to the street, where he handed her into an immaculately glossy and corded victoria, drawn by a big stamping bay, and stood with his hat off until she had rolled away.
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