"The education of women has not even begun," said Marianna, turning to Regina; "women will never have any sense till men begin to tell them the truth."
"But what is the truth?" asked Massimo; "truth between man and woman only comes out when they quarrel."
"That's true up to a certain point. I'm always wondering why truth is so disagreeable to everybody. They tell me I'm cracked because I never tell lies. Nobody cares, because my words don't really interest the person I'm talking to. But let's suppose this lady were to tell her husband all she was thinking, her real impressions, her real idea of him, his family, his friends. I'm certain Signor Antonio would fall quite sick——"
"Regina!" cried Antonio, in feigned alarm, "can this be true?"
Regina laughed, but a shudder as of great cold interrupted her false merriment. The Princess was continuing her story.
"'Jeanne!' said my aunt, hammering at the door of the room where he was with the lady's maid, 'hand me the Figaro, if you please.' My aunt was discreet. That was all she said."
"And what did they reply?" asked Sor Mario, sitting up straight, his toothpick in his fingers.
"My dear!" said Arduina, "what a stupid question!"
Before leaving, the Princess invited Regina to her Friday receptions. Regina promised to go; but that night, when she was comfortably in bed, lulled in the quiet and warmth of the first half-slumber, she said—