"And this from a lady of the Tiepolo!"
"All is not as it seems in this evil world, kind Gelsomina. We have had many Doges, but we have had much suffering. Thou mayest have heard that the house of which I come is reduced to a single, youthful girl like thyself, who has been left in the Senate's charge?"
"They speak little of these matters, lady, in Venice; and, of all here, none go so seldom into the square as I. Still have I heard of the beauty and riches of Donna Violetta. The last I hope is true; the first I now see is so."
The daughter of Tiepolo colored, in turn, but it was not in resentment.
"They have spoken in too much kindness for an orphan," she answered; "though that fatal wealth is perhaps not over-estimated. Thou knowest that the state charges itself with the care and establishment of all noble females, whom Providence has left fatherless?"
"Lady, I did not. It is kind of St. Mark to do it!"
"Thou wilt think differently, anon. Thou art young, Gelsomina, and hast passed thy time in privacy?"
"True, lady. It is seldom I go further than my mother's room, or the cell of some suffering prisoner."
Violetta looked towards her governess, with an expression which seemed to say, that she anticipated her appeal would be made in vain, to one so little exposed to the feelings of the world.
"Thou wilt not understand, then, that a noble female may have little inclination to comply with all the Senate's wishes, in disposing of her duties and affections?"