Nevertheless, there was a certain amount of bitterness--such
bitterness, more akin to self-depreciation, as could find place in
the gentle heart of Violante--in the thought of what might have
been; in the thought that she was irrevocably excluded from that
which it had been so easy for this poor stranger artist to attain;
and, above all, there was a strong curiosity to see the beauty which
had accomplished this; to hear the voice which had been able to
charm; and, further, in her own interest, to ascertain, if that
should be possible, whether the tie which she had been told existed
between this girl and the man who had been assigned to her for a
husband, was, or was not, of a nature likely to lead to a marriage
between them.
At first sight this would have seemed impossible to the aristocratic
notions of the Cardinal Legate's niece. But Assunta Fagiani, whose
object had been simply to convince Violante that no union between
herself and Ludovico would ever take place, despite all appearances
to the contrary, had given her to understand that it was whispered
as a thing not impossible--such was Ludovico's infatuation--that he
might even go the length of making such an alliance.
One morning, soon after the commencement of her work in the chapel,
whither she had been escorted on her first going thither by the
Marchese Lamberto himself in person, in accordance with his promise,
Violante, on entering the chapel, saw that the little scaffold had
been pulled out from its corner and placed immediately under one of
the medallion portraits of the Apostles, on the vault of the
building.
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