“Be patient for a few days. My dear child, a few days are not eternity; be patient.”
“For how long a time then?”
“We are coming to a good conclusion,” thought Don Abbondio. “Come,” said he, gently, “in fifteen days I will endeavour——”
“Fifteen days! Oh! this is something new. To tell me now, on the very day you yourself appointed for my marriage, that I must wait fifteen days! Fifteen,” resumed he, with a low and angry voice.
Don Abbondio interrupted him, earnestly seizing his hand, and with an imploring tone beseeching him to be quiet. “Come, come, don’t be angry; for the love of Heaven! I’ll see, I’ll see if in a week——”
“And what shall I say to Lucy?” said Renzo, softening.
“That it has been a mistake of mine.”
“And to the world?”
“Say also it is my fault; that through too great haste I have made some great blunder: throw all the blame on me. Can I do more than this? Come in a week.”
“And then there will be no further difficulties?”