A moment later he was aware that a pair of tawny eyes was fixed on him. Maria Consuelo was following Donna Tullia at a distance of a dozen yards. Orsino came forward and his new acquaintance held out her hand. They had not met since they had first seen each other.
"It was so kind of you," she said.
"What, Madame?"
"To suggest this to Gouache. I should have had no ticket—where shall I sit?"
Orsino did not understand, for though he had mentioned the subject, Gouache had not told him what he meant to do. But there was no time to be lost in conversation. Orsino led her to the nearest opening in the tribune and pointed to a seat.
"I called," he said quickly. "You did not receive—"
"Come again, I will be at home," she answered in a low voice, as she passed him.
She sat down in a vacant place beside Donna Tullia, and Orsino noticed that his mother was just behind them both. Corona had been watching him unconsciously, as she often did, and was somewhat surprised to see him conducting a lady whom she did not know. A glance told her that the lady was a foreigner; as such, if she were present at all, she should have been in the diplomatic tribune. There was nothing to think of, and Corona tried to solve the small social problem that presented itself. Orsino strolled back to his father's side.
"Who is she?" inquired Sant' Ilario with some curiosity.
"The lady who wanted the tiger's skin—Aranjuez—I told you of her."