"Lelio will not comply with your desire, my dear sister," replied Nasi; "he will do just what I advise; for his heart is all delicacy and honor, and he has made me the final judge."
"Very well!" said Alezia, with a laugh; "go and order him, in my name, to come here."
"I will go to him," replied Nasi, "for I see that you are not disposed to listen to any prudent counsel. And I will go with him and take rooms for him and myself in the village inn, which you see at the end of the avenue. If you should be exposed to any fresh outrage on the part of Signor Ettore Grimani, you have only to signal from your window and ring the garden bell, and we shall be under arms instantly. But you need have no fear, he will not return. You can take possession of Lelio's room, which is much more suitable for you than this one. Your maid will remain here to wait upon you and bring me your orders, if it is your pleasure to give me any."
Nasi having joined me, and given me an account of this interview, I opened my heart to him and told him almost everything, but without mentioning Bianca. I explained to him how I had thoughtlessly become involved in an adventure, the heroine of which had at first seemed to me coquettish even to the point of impudence, and how, as I discovered from day to day the purity of her heart and the moral elevation of her character, I had been led on in spite of myself to play the part of a man ready to attempt anything.
"Then you do not love Signora Aldini?" said the count, in a tone of amazement in which I fancied that I could detect a slight touch of contempt for me. I was not hurt, for I knew that I did not deserve that contempt; and his esteem for me was restored when he learned how hard I had fought to remain virtuous, although consumed by love and desire. But when it became necessary to explain to the count how it happened that I was so positively determined not to marry Alezia, however indulgent her mother's heart might prove to be, I was embarrassed. I asked him this question: whether Alezia's reputation would be so seriously compromised by what she had done, that it would be my duty to marry her in order to make her honor whole. The count smiled and replied, taking my hand affectionately:
"My dear Lelio, you do not yet know how much rank idiocy there is in the social circle in which Alezia was born, nor how much corruption its stern censorship conceals. Let me tell you, so that you may laugh at such ideas and despise them as I do, that Alezia, after being seduced by you in her aunt's house and being your mistress for a year—provided there had been no noise or scandal about it,—could still make what is called a good match, and that no great family would close its doors to her. She would hear more or less whispering about her, and some rigidly virtuous women would forbid their newly married daughters to become intimate with her; but she would be all the more popular for that, and receive all the more attention from the men. But if you should marry Alezia, even though it should be proved that she had remained pure to the day of her marriage, she would never be forgiven for being the wife of an actor. You are one of those men upon whom calumny can gain no hold. Many sensible persons might think Alezia had made a noble choice, and done a praiseworthy thing in marrying you; very few would dare say so aloud, and even if she should become a widow, the doors that had been closed to her would never be reopened; for she would never find a man in society who would care to marry her after you; her family would look upon her as dead, and not even her mother would be allowed to mention her name. Such is the fate that awaits Alezia if you marry her. Reflect, and if you are not sure that you still love her, beware of an unhappy marriage; for it will be impossible for you to give her back to her family and friends after she has once borne your name. If, on the other hand, you feel confident that you will always love her, marry her; for her devotion to you is something sublime, and no man on earth is more deserving of it than you."
I was lost in thought, and the count feared that he had wounded me by his plain-speaking, despite the complimentary remarks with which he had tried to soften its bitterness. I reassured him.
"That is not what I am thinking about," I said; "I am thinking of Signora Bianca,—Princess Grimani, I mean,—and of the sorrow that would make her life a burden if I should marry her daughter."
"It would be very bitter, in truth," replied the count; "and if you know that amiable and charming young woman, you will think twice before exposing her to the wrath of those arrogant and implacable Grimanis."
"I will not expose her to it," I exclaimed earnestly, as if speaking to myself.