‘Well, be it so,’ said she languidly. And now a very meanly-clad priest, poor and wretched in appearance, came crouchingly forward to kiss her hand. She gave it with averted head, and in a way that indicated little of courtesy, while he bent tremblingly over it, as beseemed one whose lips touched the fingers of a great cardinal’s niece. Maurizio followed, and then the other members of his household. When it came to Gerald’s turn to advance, ‘You must, you must; it is your duty,’ whispered the steward, as, rebel-like, the youth wished to pass on without the act of deference.
‘Is this Tonino?’ asked the Contessina, suddenly turning her head, for her quick ears had caught the words of remonstrance. ‘Is this Tonino?’
‘No, Eccelenza; Tonino was drawn in the conscription, muttered the steward, in confusion. ‘He knew your Excellency would have got him off, if you were here, but——’
‘Which is this, then—your second son, or your third?’
‘Neither, Eccelenza, neither; he is a sort of connection——‘’
‘Nothing of the kind,’ broke in Gerald. ‘I’m of the blood of the Geraldines.’
‘Native princes,’ said the Contessina quickly. ‘Irish, too! How came you here?’
‘He has been living with us, Eccelenza, for some months back,’ chimed in the steward; ‘an honest Frate, one——’
‘Let himself answer me,’ said the Contessina.
‘They took, me from the Jesuit college and placed me here,’ said the boy.