“She is a very beautiful girl,” said Mrs Crichton, who, now that there was no need to fear Jem’s foolishness, was ready to be interested in Violante.
“Yes,” said Clarissa. “She is too fine a bird for us, which is a pity, as she is a nice little thing; and never so happy as when she is playing with the little ones. Ah, here she comes!”
Violante came up to Clarissa, without immediately perceiving her companions.
“Miss Clarissa, Miss Florence says they are going to dance. May we stay a little longer?”
“No one could think of carrying you away, Miss Mattei,” said Mr Dysart. “Pray, let me thank you for your songs. And, of course, Miss Venning, you are not thinking of stirring yet? Let me find you a partner.”
“Thank you, I am acting chaperone. You may stay if Florence likes, Violante. I think you have not seen Mrs Crichton?”
“Let me thank you for your sweet music, my dear,” said Mrs Crichton, in her kind way. “I think it was my other son you knew in Italy?”
“Mother, you mistake. It was I. I knew Mademoiselle Mattei once.” And Hugh started forward and held out his hand, imploringly. Violante put hers into it; but she stood passive and still.
“You were not so gracious, Miss Mattei, when we applauded you the second time,” said young Mr Dysart.
“I saw that the young ladies did not curtsey, signor,” said Violante, simply; “but I thank you for listening to me.”