Therefore her views and her
feelings were of a different order.
And then the thought of being so loved by such a creature--of being
really loved for himself--loved as she had never loved before, made
for the moment all other thought impossible to him: he started from
his chair, and paced the room with rapid disordered strides. What
was all the world to the ecstasy of such a love? All--all that he
had hitherto lived for, was it not flat, stale, poor, puerile, in
comparison to it? Why not leave all, and seize a happiness so
infinitely greater than any he had ever known or imagined? Why not
marry her, and be hers for ever, as she was anxious to be his?
Nobles of higher rank than his had done as much before. Why not?
What would they all say and think? All his world, that he had lived
among, and lived for, from his cradle upwards: the Cardinal, his
sister, his nephew, Violante? The whole society which had looked up
to him as some one altogether above the sphere of human frailties
and follies: how could he face them? What say to them? Why face them
at all? Why not leave all, and make a new world for himself and the
one dear companion of it? Marry her, and take her safe away from all
her past, and from all his. Why not?
But would she consent to that? Would that be her idea of a marriage
with the Marchese di Castelmare? Was it not likely that she would
prefer to be Marchesa di Castelmare in the Palazzo Castelmare,--in
Ravenna, where--ha!--where Ludovico was, for whom she had so much
regard? who was so frequently with her.
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