The agent laughed. "That is what I said to my wife," he replied.
"It was not a wise thing to say," observed Don Agostino.
"It is an incredible affair," resumed the other, brushing a fly from his horse's flank as he spoke; "and no reception by the people—as little notice as possible to be taken of their excellencies' arrival. You see what the letter says, reverence?"
"Yes," replied Don Agostino, meditatively. "It is unusual, certainly, under the circumstances."
"But," he added, "the princess has undoubtedly some good reason for wishing to arrive at Montefiano in as quiet a manner as possible. Perhaps she is ill, or her daughter is ill—who knows?"
"They say she is a saint," observed Fontana.
Don Agostino looked at him; the tone of Sor Beppe's voice implied that such a fact would account for any eccentricity. Then he smiled.
"She is at all events the mistress of Montefiano, until the young princess is of age or marries," he remarked; "so, Signor Fontana, there is nothing more to be said or done."
"Except to obey her excellency's instructions."
"Exactly—except to obey her instructions," repeated Don Agostino.