"And then, I may say,
Signora, that in Ravenna a visit at any hour from old Lamberto di
Castelmare would do your fair name no harm!" he added, taking the
arm-chair by the side of the sofa to which she pointed, as she
resumed her former place and attitude on the couch.
"I dare say it might not, if I am to judge of his position in the
society from your own, Signor Marchese. But I did not know, that
there was any old Signor Lamberto di Castelmare. I supposed you were
the head of the family, your uncle, perhaps?" said Bianca, very
innocently.
"I have no uncle, Signora! I am the oldest Castelmare extant," said
the Marchese.
"And you call yourself old Lamberto, Marchese! Why I would wager my
pearl necklace,--and that is the most valuable possession I have--
against a daisy chain, that you are not ten years older than I am. I
shall be called old Bianca Lalli next, at that rate!"
"And how many years, since you are ready to wager on it,--have gone
to the bringing the face and form I see before me to their matchless
perfection?" said the Marchese.
"Who was ever before so prettily asked how old she was?" said
Bianca, suffering her large blue eyes to rest fully on the
Marchese's face for an instant, and then dropping them with an air
of conscious embarrassment. "Well, a frank question deserves--or at
least shall have--a frank answer! I shall never see my twenty-fourth
birthday again?"
"And you judge me then to be thirty-four!" said the Marchese,
looking at her laughingly.
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