"Pray talk plainly with me, papa!" cried Faustina suddenly looking up.
"I cannot bear this suspense."
"Ah! Is it so, little one?" Montevarchi shook his finger playfully at her. "I thought I should find you ready! So you are anxious to become a princess at once? Well, well, all women are alike!"
Faustina drew herself up a little and fixed her deep brown eyes upon her father's face, very quietly and solemnly.
"You misunderstand me," she said. "I only wish to know your decision in order that I may give you my answer."
"And what can that answer be? Have I not chosen, wisely, a husband fit for you in every way?"
"From your point of view, I have no doubt of it."
"I trust you are not about to commit the unpardonable folly of differing from me, my daughter," answered Montevarchi, with a sudden change of tone indicative of rising displeasure. "It is for me to decide, for you to accept my decision."
"Upon other points, yes. In the question of marriage I think I have something to say."
"Is it possible that you can have any objections to the match I have found for you? Is it possible that you are so foolish as to fancy that at your age you can understand these things better than I? Faustina, I would not have believed it!"
"How can you understand what I feel?"