"They said you had gone boar-hunting."
"Or to Naples."
"Or even to Paris." Three or four spoke in one breath.
"I am exceedingly flattered at the interest you all show in me," said Giovanni, quietly. "There is very little to tell. I have been in Saracinesca upon a matter of business, spending my days in the woods with my steward, and my nights in keeping away the cold and the ghosts. I would have invited you all to join the festivity, had I known how much you were interested. The beef up there is monstrously tough, and the rats are abominably noisy, but the mountain air is said to be very healthy."
Most of the men present felt that they had not only behaved foolishly, but had spoiled the little circle around the Duchessa by introducing a man who had the power to interest her, whereas they could only afford her a little amusement. Valdarno was still standing, and his chair beside Corona was vacant. Giovanni calmly installed himself upon it, and began to talk as though nothing had happened.
"You are not dancing, Duchessa," he remarked. "I suppose you have been in the ball-room?"
"Yes—but I am rather tired this evening. I will wait."
"You were here at the last great ball, before the old prince died, were you not?" asked Giovanni, remembering that he had first seen her on that occasion.
"Yes," she answered; "and I remember that we danced together; and the accident to the window, and the story of the ghost."
So they fell into conversation, and though one or two of the men ventured an ineffectual remark, the little circle dropped away, and Giovanni was left alone by the side of the Duchessa. The distant opening strains of a waltz came floating down the gallery, but neither of the two heard, nor cared.