"It is quite true, mamma," answered Faustina, who enjoyed an odd satisfaction in seeing the effect of her words, which can only be explained by her perfect innocence. "Why are you so much astonished? I loved him—I thought he was going out to be killed—I would not let him go alone—"
"Oh, Faustina! How could you do it!" moaned the princess. "It is too horrible—it is not to be believed—"
"I loved him, I love him still."
Princess Montevarchi fell into a chair and burst into tears, burying her face in her hands and sobbing aloud.
"If you are going to cry, Guendalina, you had better go away," said her husband, who was now as angry as his mean nature would permit him to be. She was so much accustomed to obey that she left the room, crying as she went, and casting back a most sorrowful look at Faustina.
Montevarchi shut the door and, coming back, seized his daughter's arm and shook it violently.
"Fool!" he cried angrily, unable to find any other word to express his rage.
Faustina said nothing but tried to push him away, her bright eyes gleaming with contempt. Her silence exasperated the old man still further. Like most very cowardly men he could be brutal to women when he was angry. It seemed to him that the girl, by her folly, had dashed from him the last great satisfaction of his life at the very moment when it was within reach. He could have forgiven her for ruining herself, had she done so; he could not forgive her for disappointing his ambition; he knew that one word of the story she had told would make the great marriage impossible, and he knew that she had the power to speak that word when she pleased as well as the courage to do so.
"Fool!" he repeated, and before she could draw back, he struck her across the mouth with the back of his hand.
A few drops of bright red blood trickled from her delicate lips. With an instinctive movement she pressed her handkerchief to the wound. Montevarchi snatched it roughly from her hand and threw it across the room. From his eyes she guessed that he would strike her again if she remained. With a look of intense hatred she made a supreme effort, and concentrating the whole strength of her slender frame wrenched herself free.