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Updated: May 28, 2025
She did this without a word, without a gesture, without even lifting her eyebrows. There was merely a change of atmosphere. Miss Dene felt it, but she did not care here as she would have cared in Rome. There, the young Princess di Sereno could have made or marred her socially. In California she was on the same ground as Mrs. May. Besides, she knew a thing about Mrs.
Some silly creatures might have stared at her because she was a princess; but far worse others would have looked because they knew all about her. These would have buzzed: "Why, that's the Princess di Sereno, don't you know, the only child of the California millionaire who died about ten years ago, so suddenly while his wife and little daughter were in Europe!
Why, that makes you already more mine than his." "Heart and spirit, I'm all yours," Angela said. "Oh, Nick, I don't love you, I worship you, you man! I never thought there were men like you. I don't believe there are any more. Paolo di Sereno is a mere husk." "Divorce him," Nick implored. "You've got cause." "He's Italian," she answered. "So am I, as his wife, in the eyes of the law.
Altogether a remarkable man, whose memoirs would make absorbing reading, could he be persuaded to write them which is quite beyond the bounds of possibility. I had never met him either professionally or personally, and it was with some eagerness that I told the office-boy to show him in at once. Sereno Hornblower did not look the part.
Now the money had gone to restore the Palazzo di Sereno, and to buy motors and aeroplanes and ladies' favours for the Prince of that name. Yet some day Angela meant to make the pilgrimage, when she had built her house and given herself a starting-point. "I've other things to do," she replied coldly. "I shall see only the Missions I may happen to pass on this tour."
But, oh, Nick, though I'm not a widow, I was never any man's wife except in name. I'm Franklin Merriam's daughter you must have heard of him. And when I was seventeen I married Prince Paolo di Sereno. That very day I found out there was some one who had more right to him that I had. She came, and threatened to kill herself. You see, it was not me, it was money he cared for.
Yesterday morning about ten o'clock I set out for New Haven with S. Barrell and arrived well a little before dark. I went directly to Dr. Dwight's, which I easily found, and delivered the letter to him, drank tea at his house, and then Mr. Sereno Dwight carried me to Mr. Davis's who had agreed to take me. While I was at Dr. Dwight's there was a woman there whom the Dr. recommended to Sam.
There, too, in those long, solitary vigils, the Spirit of God came upon him, and the spirit of Nature was even as God's Spirit, and he sang: 'Laudato sia Dio mio Signore, con tutte le creature, specialmente messer lo frate sole; per suor luna, e per le stelle; per frate vento e per l'aire, e nuvolo, e sereno e ogni tempo. Half the value of this hymn would be lost were we to forget how it was written, in what solitudes and mountains far from men, or to ticket it with some abstract word like Pantheism.
Marillac, on the contrary, was grateful to his friend for this indifference of execution, for he saw in it an occasion to shine at his expense. He began his solo 'E il ciel per noi sereno, with an unusual tension of the larynx, roaring out his low notes. Except for the extension being a little irregular and unconnected, he did not acquit himself very badly in the first part.
She would not listen when a sarcastic voice within defended Nick, sneering, "Oh, yes, Prince Paolo di Sereno and some of his friends are far superior to Mr. Hilliard, aren't they?"
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