"I will always treat your wife with the highest consideration," she said, as though that settled the matter and she wished to drop the subject. But her brother was not satisfied.
"I wish you to love her, Diana; I wish you to treat her as your sister."
Donna Diana was silent, and Marcantonio shifted his position uneasily, for he did not know exactly what to do, and he saw that he was failing in his mission. But in a moment his heart guided him. He went and sat beside her, and laid his hand on hers.
"We cannot quarrel, dear," he said. "But will you love her if I make her like you—if I make her thoughts as beautiful as yours?"
Donna Diana's face softened as she turned to him and affectionately pressed his hand.
"I will try to love her for your sake, dear boy," she answered gently; and he kissed her fingers in thanks.
"Dear Diana," he said, "you are so good! But you know she is really not at all like what you fancy her. She is full of heart, and so wonderfully delicate and lovely,—and so marvellously intelligent. There is nothing she does not know. She has read all the philosophies"—
"Yes, I know she has," interrupted his sister, as though deprecating the discussion of Miss Carnethy's wisdom.
"But not as you think," he protested, catching the meaning of her tone. "She has read them all, but she will take what is best from each, and I am quite sure she will be a good Catholic before long."
"I really hope so," said Donna Diana seriously.