“Of course: the blessing of his holiness ... and of Heaven.”
“I thought you were not religious?”
“Sometimes, when I think of their marriage, I become very religious. What peace for the Princess Urania’s soul when she became a Catholic! What happiness in life, to marry il caro Gilio! There is still peace and happiness left in life.”
The marchesa had a vague suspicion that she was mocking and thought her a dangerous woman.
“And you, has our religion no charm for you?”
“A great deal! I have a great feeling for beautiful churches and pictures. But that is an artistic conception. You will not understand it perhaps, for I don’t think you are artistic, marchesa? And marriage also has charms for me, a marriage like Urania’s. Couldn’t you help me too some time, marchesa? Then I will spend a whole winter in your pension and—who knows?—perhaps I too shall become a Catholic. You might give Rudyard another chance, with me; and, if that didn’t succeed, the two monsignori. Then I should certainly become converted.... And it would of course be lucrative.”
The marchesa looked at her haughtily, white with rage:
“Lucrative?...”
“If you get me an Italian title, but accompanied by money, of course it would be lucrative.”
“How do you mean?”