"As for that, my dear Markham, remember that a dutiful daughter knows no will and no inclination save those of her parents."
"This is not an English doctrine," said Markham, "so far as the principle applies to affairs of the heart."
"It is nevertheless an Italian doctrine," exclaimed the count, somewhat haughtily; "and I have no doubt that Isabella will ever recognise the authority of her parents in this as in all other matters."
As the count uttered these words, he rose and led the way to the drawing-room; and thus deprived Markham of that opportunity of making the confession he had intended.
Richard was unhappy and dispirited. He perceived that the count was inclined to favour Mr. Greenwood's suit; and he now felt how dear Isabella was to him—how profoundly seated was his love for the beauteous Italian!
Misfortunes never come alone. Richard was destined to receive a crushing blow, although innocently inflicted, the moment he entered the drawing-room.
The countess was conversing with her daughter upon her own family connections.
"Do not let us interrupt your conversation," said the count, as he took his seat upon the sofa near his wife.
"We were only talking about the Chevalier Guilderstein, whose death was mentioned in yesterday's newspaper," observed the countess. "I was saying that I remembered how delighted I was when I discovered a few years ago that the chevalier was not related to our family, as he had always pretended to be."
"And why so?" inquired the count.