"I wish her joy," said Amelia, coldly. "If he be a dishonored man, I advise her to forget him. Now I wish you good day, signora, for I am much fatigued. I hope you will, in the course of a few days, come to see me again, to read this music. It seems to me very beautiful."
"You have then resumed your taste for music?" said the king. "I thought you had entirely abandoned it."
"I am anxious to resume it, and I hope, brother, that you will aid me in doing so. I am told you have made great progress, and now you will instruct me."
"We will now take them together from the signora. I will bring her."
"Well. That will be very pleasant to me."
The baroness took Porporina into the ante-chamber, and the latter soon found herself alone in one of the long corridors, without knowing whither to direct her steps to get out of the palace, for she did not remember how she had gotten into it.
The household of the king was as economical as possible, if we do not use a harsher word, and very few servants were to be met with in the palace. Porporina met no one from whom she could inquire, and wandered at hazard through the vast pile.
Reflecting on what had passed, overpowered by fatigue, and having fasted since the previous day, and feeling much debilitated—as often happens on such occasions—an unhealthy excitement sustained her physical powers. Wandering at hazard, and more rapidly than if she had been well, pursued by a personal idea, which, since the previous day had clung around her, she completely forgot where she was, went astray, crossed the galleries, the courts, retraced her steps, went up and down staircases, met various persons, forgot to ask her way, and at last found herself at the door of a vast hall, filled with divers confused objects, at the threshold of which a grave and polished person bowed to her with much courtesy, and invited her to enter.
Porporina recognised the learned academician, Stoss, keeper of the cabinet of curiosities and of the castle library. He had often come to ask her to try precious manuscripts of Protestant music, of the early days of the Reformation, treasures of caligraphy, with which he had enriched the royal collection. When he learned that she sought to leave the castle, he offered at once to accompany her home, but begged her to glance around the room which contained the treasures committed to his charge, of which he was very proud. She could not refuse, and at once took his arm.
Easily amused, as all artists are, she soon took more interest than she had felt disposed to, and her attention was entirely absorbed by an article pointed out by the learned professor.