"If you imagine, Bianca," he said after a while, "that my nephew
would, or could, however much he might wish to do so, make any other
kind of proposal to you, you are labouring under a delusion. I speak
in all sincerity of heart"
"And I have spoken to you, God knows, with all sincerity, Signor
Marchese. I have spoken as I have never before spoken to any human
being. I have opened my heart to you to the very bottom of it. But
the effort of doing so has been a painful one. It has terribly
overset me; I feel like a wrung-out rag; and would fain rest. You
will not be offended if I ask you to leave me now. It is getting
late, too; and I expect my father home every instant. Good-night,
Signor Marchese. Forgive me if I have said aught that I should not
have said; if I have in any way offended you. I think you know how
far the wish to do so is from my heart. Good-night."
"Good-night, Bianca," said the Marchese, taking the hand she held
out to him, and retaining it in his own for some instants, despite
his intention of specially abstaining from any demonstration of the
kind--"Good-night, Bianca. We shall meet to-morrow morning."
"Yes, on business," said Bianca, looking up into his face with a sad
smile. "Signor Ercole said he should be here at midday."
And then the Marchese left her, and, carefully shunning the more
frequented parts of the city, returned to his own home.
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