"Exactly," burst in Trenta, again betrayed into undue warmth by this concession.

The cavaliere was old; he had seen that life revolves itself strangely in a circle, from which we may diverge, but from which we seldom disentangle ourselves. Desperate resolves are taken, tragedies are planned, but Fate or Providence intervenes. The old balance pendulates again—the foot falls into the familiar step. Death comes to cut the Gordian knot. The grave-sod covers all that is left, and the worm feeds on the busy brain.

As a man of the world, Trenta was a profound believer in the chapter of accidents.

"I will not put Enrica out of my house," resumed the marchesa, gazing at him suspiciously. (Trenta seemed, she thought, wonderfully interested in Enrica's fate. She had noticed this interest once before. She did not like it. What was Enrica to him? Trenta was her friend.) "But she shall remain on one condition only—Nobili's name must never be mentioned. You can inform her of this, as you have taken already so much upon yourself. Do you hear?"

"Certainly, certainly," answered the chamberlain with alacrity. "You shall be obeyed. I will answer for it—excellent marchesa, you are right, always right"—and he stooped down and gently took her thin fingers in his fat hands, and touched them with his lips.

"I will cause no scandal," she continued, withdrawing her hand. "Once in a convent, Enrica can harm no one."

"No, certainly not," responded Trenta, "and the family will become extinct. This palace and its precious heirlooms will be sold."

The marchesa put out her hand with silent horror.

"It is the case with so many of our great families," continued the impassable Trenta. "Now, on the other hand, Enrica may possibly change her mind; Nobili may change his mind. Circumstances quite unforeseen may occur—who can answer for circumstances?"

The marchesa listened silently. This was always a good sign; she was too obstinate to confess herself convinced. But, spite of her prejudices, her natural shrewdness forbade her to reject absolutely the voice of reason.