“I am bound to suppose that she would be extremely unhappy.”
Christina said nothing more, and Rowland, to let her make her reflections, left his place and strolled away. Poor Assunta, sitting patiently on a stone bench, and unprovided, on this occasion, with military consolation, gave him a bright, frank smile, which might have been construed as an expression of regret for herself, and of sympathy for her mistress. Rowland presently seated himself again near Christina.
“What do you think,” she asked, looking at him, “of your friend’s infidelity?”
“I don’t like it.”
“Was he very much in love with her?”
“He asked her to marry him. You may judge.”
“Is she rich?”
“No, she is poor.”
“Is she very much in love with him?”
“I know her too little to say.”