Delfina ran on in
front with her almond-branch and, caught by the breeze of her movement,
some of its faint pink petals fluttered away like butterflies.
A poignant regret pierced the young man's heart. He pictured to himself
the delights of a sentimental walk through the quiet glades of the Villa
Medici in the early hours of the sunny afternoon.
'With whom do you lunch?' asked Donna Maria, after an interval of
silence.
'With the old Princess Alberoni,' he replied.
He lied to her once more, for some instinct warned him that the name
Ferentino might arouse some suspicion in Donna Maria's mind.
'Good-bye, then,' she said, and held out her hand.
'No--I will come up to the Piazza. My carriage is waiting for me there.
Look--that is where I live,' and he pointed to the Palazzo Zuccari, all
flooded with sunshine.
Donna Maria's eyes lingered upon it.
'Now there you have seen it, will you come there sometimes--in spirit?'
'In spirit always.'
'And shall I not see you before Saturday evening?'
'I hardly think so.'
They parted--she turning with Delfina into the avenue, Andrea jumping
into his brougham and driving off down the Via Gregoriana.
He arrived at the Ferentinos' a few minutes late. He made his apologies.
Elena was already there with her husband.
Lunch was served in a dining room gay with tapestries representing
scenes after the manner of Peter Loar.
Pages:
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330