He read the note through twice, and he went about his toilet with his usual care, looking angrily at himself in the glass as he shaved, but gradually composing his features to an appearance of calmness. Then he put his things together, rang the bell, told the servant he was going to Sorrento on business, and gave him a very handsome fee, requesting him to bring the things to the hotel in the course of the day. Julius took his hat and stick, and strolled out of the house toward the town.
Donna Diana and Marcantonio met in the morning. They saluted each other with the quiet, mournful understanding of people who have a common trouble, which they know must be spoken of, though they desire to put off the evil moment. They were both pale, and Diana's eyes were shaded by great dark rings that spoke of a sleepless night.
"Have you seen Leonora? How is she?" was her first question.
"Dio mio! She is very poorly. Poverina! It has made a terrible impression on her. Of course I did not speak of the subject."
"Of course." Diana sighed and looked drearily at the window, as though she wished she were outside, away, and beyond this trouble. She could not know what Leonora would say or do if Marcantonio ever broached the subject. "I do not think," said she, "that it will ever be necessary to say anything about it. She will understand that you sent him out of the house,—she will never see him again."
"Is he gone?" asked Marcantonio.
"Yes—early this morning. I sent to find out."
"Then there need be no time lost," said her brother. "I have just written a note to De Lancray, at Castellamare. It is much better to have a Frenchman in dealing with foreigners. He will be here by one o'clock, and will arrange everything."
Diana had expected that Marcantonio would send for a friend to arrange matters with Batiscombe. She did not look surprised.
"Have you sent the man yet?" she asked.