"Do not tell me that—I do not believe you," answered Donna Tullia, angrily.
"I give you my word of honour that I do not know," returned the Prince.
"That is different. Will you get in and drive with me for a few minutes?"
"At your commands." Saracinesca opened the carriage-door and got in.
"We shall astonish the world; but I do not care," said Donna Tullia.
"Tell me, is Don Giovanni seriously hurt?"
"No—a couple of scratches that will heal in a week. Del Ferice is very seriously wounded."
"I know," answered Donna Tullia, sadly. "It is dreadful—I am afraid it was my fault."
"How so?" asked Saracinesca, quickly. He had not heard the story of the forgotten waltz, and was really ignorant of the original cause of disagreement. He guessed, however, that Donna Tullia was not so much concerned in it as the Duchessa d'Astrardente.
"Your son was very rude to me," said Madame Mayer. "Perhaps I ought not to tell you, but it is best you should know. He was engaged to dance with me the last waltz but one before the cotillon. He forgot me, and I found him with that—with a lady—talking quietly."
"With whom did you say?" asked Saracinesca, very gravely.