Corona vouchsafed no answer, but her eyes turned towards the door in expectation. Presently there were steps heard without. The servant entered, and announced Prince Saracinesca and Don Giovanni. Corona rose. The old man came in first, followed by his son.
"An unexpected pleasure," he said, gaily. "Such good luck! We were both at home. Ah, Donna Tullia," he cried, seeing Madame Mayer, "how are you?" Then seeing her face, he added, suddenly, "Is anything the matter?"
Meanwhile Giovanni had entered, and stood by Corona's side near the fireplace. He saw at once that something was wrong, and he looked anxiously from the Duchessa to Donna Tullia. Corona spoke at once.
"Donna Tullia," she said, quietly, "I have the honour to offer you an opportunity of explaining yourself."
Madame Mayer remained seated by the table, her face red with anger. She leaned back in her seat, and half closing her eyes with a disagreeable look of contempt, she addressed Giovanni.
"I am sorry to cause you such profound humiliation," she began, "but in the interest of the Duchessa d'Astrardente I feel bound to speak. Don Giovanni, do you remember Aquila?"
"Certainly," he replied, coolly—"I have often been there. What of it?"
Old Saracinesca stared from one to the other.
"What is this comedy?" he asked of Corona. But she nodded to him to be silent.
"Then you doubtless remember Felice Baldi—poor Felice Baldi," continued
Donna Tullia, still gazing scornfully up at Giovanni from where she sat.