"Fanatico! But what matters that; except, indeed, as a stepping-
stone? What has music done for me? The Marchese Lamberto is a
bachelor, Quinto."
"Ha! what, the old man?" said Quinto, looking sharply at her.
"Yes, the old man, as you call him. Not so old but he might be your
son, friend Quinto. But there is the young man, the Marchese
Ludovico, whom you also saw, when they met us on the road. He is the
nephew and heir to the other--a bachelor too--and as pretty a fellow
as one would wish to see into the bargain; a charming fellow."
"So was the Duca di Lodi at Milan," said the old man, quietly; "a
very charming fellow--charming and charmed into the bargain. But--"
"Yes! I don't need to ask the meaning of your `but.' We know all
about that; but what is the good of going back upon it?" said
Bianca, throwing herself at full length upon a sofa, and tossing her
hat on to the ground, with some little display of ill-temper, as she
spoke.
"Only for the sake of the light past mistakes may throw on future
hopes," replied Quinto, with philosophic calmness.
"Bah-mistakes--what mistake? There was no mistake, but for that
infamous old wretch of a governor," said Bianca, with an expression
which the individual referred to would hardly have recognized as
beautiful, if he could have seen it.
"Yes! I know.
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