Valentine Charteris was no longer "the queen of the county." Prince di Bergezi had won the beautiful English woman. He had followed her to Greenoke and repeated his question. There was neither coquetry nor affectation in Valentine—she had thought the matter over, and decided that she was never likely to meet with any one else she liked and respected so much as her Italian lover. He had the virtues, without the faults, of the children of the South; a lavishly generous, princely disposition; well-cultivated artistic tastes; good principles and a chivalrous sense of honor. Perhaps the thing that touched her most was his great love for her. In many respects he resembled Ronald Earle more nearly than any one else she had ever met.
To the intense delight of both parents, Miss Charteris accepted him. For her sake the prince consented to spend every alternate year in England.
Three times had the whole country side welcomed the stately Italian and his beautiful wife. This was their fourth visit to England, and, when the princess heard from Lady Charteris that Ronald's two daughters, whom she remembered as little babes, were at Earlescourt, nothing would satisfy her but a visit there.
The young girls looked in admiring wonder at the lady. They had never seen any one so dazzling or so bright. The calm, grand, Grecian face had gained in beauty; the magnificent head, with its wealth of golden hair, the tall, stately figure, charmed them. And when Valentine took them in her arms and kissed them her thoughts went back to the white, wild face in the garden and the dark eyes that had flamed in hot anger upon her.
"I knew your mother years ago," she said; "has she never mentioned my name? I used to nurse you both in the little villa at Florence. I was one of your father's oldest friends."
No, they had never heard her name; and Beatrice wondered that her mother could have known and forgotten one so beautiful as the princess.
The week she remained passed like a long, bright dream. Beatrice almost worshiped Valentine; this was what she had dreamed of long ago; this was one of the ideal ladies living in the bright, gay world she was learning to understand.
When the prince and princess left Earlescourt they made Lady Helena promise that Beatrice and Lillian should visit them at Florence. They spoke of the fair and coquettish Countess Rosali, still a reigning belle, and said how warmly she would welcome them for their father's sake.
"You talk so much of Italy," said Valentine to Beatrice. "It is just the land for the romance you love. You shall see blue skies and sunny seas, vines, and myrtles, and orange trees in bloom; you shall see such luxuriance and beauty that you will never wish to return to this cold, dreary England."
It was thus arranged that, when Lord Earle returned, the visit should be paid. The evening after their guests' departure seemed long and triste.