Mark inclined his head, for he had heard something of the reputation of Luigi del Farno, when he was in Florence.
And then for the moment the Minister was forgotten in the man, and tears glistened in His Excellency's eyes.
"Gentlemen," he said, "I never saw Her Royal Highness. But I have heard a great deal of her, and I have followed her career. She was not born to be a Duchess. She had all my sympathy, for she was just a woman—beautiful, sentimental, loving. She was just the kind to do the rash things which courts will not tolerate. She was the kind to follow her own heart and not the dictates of kings. She was unhappy at court, and that unhappiness was increased when she fell in love with the Italian. She was the kind who would love until death—and then beyond the grave. She was one who would make any sacrifice to her devotion. But she fought against the solid rock of princely customs and prejudices, and there was nothing for her but to break upon it. Her love ruined that young officer. He was doomed from the moment she went away and he followed her. No earthly power could have saved him. But—believe me—she is better dead than married to him. We had his life investigated. He has had his just deserts. The Grand Duchess was not the first. It is well that she was the last, poor girl. The most merciful thing that could have happened to a woman of her character was the thing that did happen. She never knew of his fate. She died thinking that she should meet him again—that she had successfully broken down all barriers—that she and her lover could live their lives in peace, here in America. She never learned that there could be no happiness for her with a man like him. Let them rest in their graves—for graves are better than courts. As Minister I could not say these things; but I trust you, gentlemen, and I am talking to you now as a man who has known love himself. Good-bye."
The little man stiffened up and became the Minister again.
"When, gentlemen, will you be ready to receive Mademoiselle Atheson?"
Father Murray bowed. "Whenever Your Excellency is pleased to send her."
"Perhaps, Reverend Sir, you will honor me by your presence at luncheon?" As Father Murray hesitated, he added, "It will be better that you should accompany Mademoiselle Atheson to the hotel. Besides," and he smiled good-humoredly, "we can get together and revise those statements properly."
Father Murray bowed his acceptance and His Excellency took his leave. "Luncheon is at one," he remarked, as he left the room. "I should be pleased if you would come a little early. I know you will desire to talk with Mademoiselle."
Shortly after twelve Father Murray was admitted to the Ministry, where Ruth greeted him affectionately.
"How do you like being a Grand Duchess, Ruth?"