"Is named Evnica. Is example of goodness, of intellectuality. For example: yesterday with the favour of the Most Holy I make a visit. I am entering the saloon in the manner of cat, softly, softly. Behold in a book reads the Signorina Evnica—not book of novels, not journal of Don Chisciotte. No. I look over her shoulder, reading titles. Behold, book of piety entitled Office to the Proximate——"
"Office to the Proximate? What book of piety is that?"
Sir Iulo repeated the title in Italian.
"Ah yes, The Duty towards our Neighbour. Yes: a very good sign in a girl. Go on."
Sir Iulo fixed his bright green eyes upon a mental image; and described each point as he observed it, using his gorgeously florid Tuscan idiom. "Has a face to make burn Jove, and to return to ram, eagle or bull; and to make scorn to medals old and new. Blond she has the hair like thread of gold. The cheeks appear like a rose damasked. The mouth and the eyes are worth a treasure. Has looks angelic, divine: but in the effects and all the motions, human; and the her excellencies not have end. She has what they call a good and fine hand: is white like snow of mountains. Is literate; and makes to talk Tuscan; and in life not a flaw can be found. There is not who better to a swan understands me. Does great things, enough facts, little eats: not drinks never in the middle of eating and not at afternoon-tea (merenda). More, I say. She is in her proper acts so learned, that all I have in the world, or small or great, I should have given to her pleasure at a stroke. The more beautiful to my day I never saw: none more servitial: none more prudent: nor acts in a girl more courteous and gay. Has Petrarch and Dante in her hand; and, at time and place if I command, she vomits a little sonnet lightly. Girl of all perfect qualities; and holds me in pledge there if mine——"
"Well now: suppose that you marry her, will you be good to her?"
"Oh, that she shall be the my life and the my delight, dressed in velvet, guarded as a queen, for fear that if she goes about too much should not be robbed by some little hypocrite: that she shall live on collops and bread of baker——"
"How amusing you are! Well: marry that paragon, and be good and happy. You must have an apartment in the City for her, you know;—and, about your duties here:—you can come when you like. You are not dismissed: but John and James will suffice. Understand, boy, you are wanted, wanted here, always."
"I am here always, Santità."