Between such natures all things must be extreme. The certainty of some impending change in the feelings of father and daughter gave to the worn and weary face of the baroness an expression of terror.
“Ginevra, you love the enemy of your family,” said Piombo, at last, not daring to look at his daughter.
“That is true,” she replied.
“You must choose between us. Our vendetta is a part of our being. Whoso does not share my vengeance is not a member of my family.”
“My choice is made,” replied Ginevra, calmly.
His daughter’s tranquillity misled Bartolomeo.
“Oh! my dear child!” he cried, letting her see his eyes moistened with tears, the first and only tears he ever shed in life.
“I shall be his wife,” said Ginevra, abruptly.
Bartolomeo seemed dazed for a moment, but he recovered his coolness instantly, and replied:—
“The marriage will not take place in my lifetime; I will never consent to it.”