I begged the duke to get the contract ready, and to add to her dower the sum of five thousand ducats, which I would give him when the deed was signed.
“I will mortgage them,” said he, “on a house which is worth double.”
Then turning to Leonilda, who was shedding happy tears, he said,—
“I am going to send for your mother, who will be delighted to sign the settlement, and to make the acquaintance of your future husband.”
The mother lived at the Marquis Galiani’s, a day’s journey from Naples. The duke said he would send a carriage for her the next day, and that we could all sup together the day after.
“The law business will be all done by then, and we shall be able to go to the little church at Portici, and the priest will marry you. Then we will take your mother to St. Agatha and dine with her, and you can go your way with her maternal blessing.”
This conclusion gave me an involuntary shudder, and Leonilda fell fainting in the duke’s arms. He called her dear child, cared for her tenderly, and brought her to herself.
We all had to wipe our eyes, as we were all equally affected.
I considered myself as a married man and under obligation to alter my way of living, and I stopped playing. I had won more than fifteen thousand ducats, and this sum added to what I had before and Leonilda’s dowry should have sufficed for an honest livelihood.
Next day, as I was at supper with the duke and Leonilda, she said,—