“Whether she goes there or not, my opinion is still the same,” returned Albert. “You have read the letter?”
“Yes.”
“You know how imperfectly the women of the mezzo cito are educated in Italy?” (This is the name of the lower class.)
“Yes.”
“Well, read the letter again. Look at the writing, and find if you can, any blemish in the language or orthography.” The writing was, in reality, charming, and the orthography irreproachable.
“You are born to good fortune,” said Franz, as he returned the letter.
“Laugh as much as you will,” replied Albert, “I am in love.”
“You alarm me,” cried Franz. “I see that I shall not only go alone to the Duke of Bracciano’s, but also return to Florence alone.”
“If my unknown be as amiable as she is beautiful,” said Albert, “I shall fix myself at Rome for six weeks, at least. I adore Rome, and I have always had a great taste for archæology.”
