"Dear Arden!" exclaimed Adele. "I like him now. I used to have the greatest antipathy for him because he is a cripple, poor fellow! I suppose that is natural, but I have quite got over it."
"I am very glad," observed Francesco. "You and Laura were brought up like sisters—there ought never to be any coldness between you."
"Oh, as for Laura, there never has been the least difference since we were children. We are sisters still, just as we used to be when you first came to the house. Do you remember, Francesco—four years ago? I used to think you liked Laura better than me. Indeed I did! It was so foolish, and now you are always so good to me that I see how silly I was. It never was true, carissimo, was it?"
"No, indeed!" answered Savelli, with an awkward laugh, and turning away his face to hide the colour that rose in his cheeks.
"Of course not. And as for Laura, she is so much in love with her husband that I believe she was dreaming of him even then, before she had ever seen him, and long before she was old enough to think of marrying any one. How she loves him! Is it not wonderful?"
Francesco glanced at his wife, and he believed that he was not mistaken in her. There was a look of genuine admiration almost amounting to enthusiasm in her face. He suppressed a slight sigh, for he still loved Laura in his helpless and hopeless way.
"Yes," he said, "it is wonderful, all things considered."
"But then," concluded Adele, "with Arden's beautiful character—well, I am not surprised."