"Tell me," she said, when they were alone, "how did your husband manage it so quickly? They told me to-day that the cardinal had at first refused. I cannot understand it. I could not ask you before Flavia—she is so inquisitive!"
"I do not know—I have not seen Giovanni yet. He stayed with the cardinal when the carriage came for us. It was managed in some way, and quickly. I shall hear all about it this evening. What is it, dear?"
There were tears in Faustina's soft eyes, followed quickly by a little sob.
"I miss him dreadfully!" she exclaimed, laying her head on her friend's shoulder. "And I am so unhappy! We parted angrily, and I can never tell him how sorry I am. You do not think it could have had anything to do with it, do you?"
"Your little quarrel? No, child. What could it have changed? We do not know what happened."
"I shall never forget his face. I was dreadfully undutiful—oh! I could almost marry that man if it would do any good!"
Corona smiled sadly. The young girl's sorrow was genuine, in strange contrast to Flavia's voluble flippancy. She laid her hand affectionately on the thick chestnut hair.
"Perhaps he sees now that you should not marry against your heart."
"Oh, do you think so? I wish it were possible. I should not feel as though I were so bad if I thought he understood now. I could bear it better. I should not feel as though it were almost a duty to marry Frangipani."
Corona turned quickly with an expression that was almost fierce in its intensity. She took Faustina's hands in hers.