The marchesa drew back, and contemplated him with a haughty stare. His manner and his request were both alike offensive to her. She would have Count Nobili to understand that she would admit no shadow of familiarity; that her will had been forced, but that in all else she regarded him with the same animosity as before.
Nobili had understood her action and her meaning. "Devil!" he muttered between his clinched teeth. He hated himself for having been betrayed into the smallest warmth. With a flashing eye he turned from the marchesa to Enrica, and whispered in her ear, "My only love, this is more than I can bear!"
Enrica had heard nothing. She had been lost in happy thoughts. In her mind a vision was passing. She was in the close street of San Simone, within its deep shadows that fell so early in the afternoon. Before her stood the two grim palaces, the cavernous doorways and the sculptured arms of the Guinigi displayed on both: one, her old home; the other, that was to be her home. She saw herself go in here, cross the pillared court and mount upward. It was neither day nor night, but all shone with crystal brightness. Then Nobili's voice came to her, and she roused herself.
"My love," he repeated, "I must go—I must go! I cannot trust myself a moment longer with—"
What he had on his lips need not be written. "That lady," he added, hastily correcting himself, and he pointed to the marchesa, who, led by the cavaliere, had reseated herself upon the sofa, looking defiance at everybody.
"I have borne it all for your sake, Enrica." As Nobili spoke, he led her aside to one of the windows. "Now, good-by," and his eyes gathered upon her with passionate fondness; "think of me day and night."
Enrica had not uttered a single word since she first entered, except to Nobili. When he spoke of parting, her head dropped on her breast. A dread—a horror came suddenly upon her. "O Nobili, why must we part?"
"Scarcely to part," he answered, pressing her hand—"only for a few days; then always to be together."
Enrica tried to withdraw her hand from his, but he held it firmly. Then she turned away her head, and big tears rolled down her cheeks. When at last Nobili tore himself from her, Enrica followed him to the door, and, regardless of her aunt's furious glances, she kissed her hand, and waved it after him. There was a world of love in the action.
Spite of his indignation, Count Nobili did not fail duly to make his salutation to the marchesa.