“We have always thought her beautiful,” she replied. “But we are so fond of her that we should admire her if no one else did. You must remember how we always praised her to you.”
He had been wondering how she would like having the Signora for a step-mother, and if she saw the likelihood of it. Perceiving a slight reserve in her speech, he did not pursue the subject, but stood looking at her a moment. Since he was silent, she glanced up in his face to see what it meant—if he were dissatisfied, perhaps, with her reply, or if he had taken any notice of it. He was certainly taking notice of her, and so close a notice that her eyes dropped again under it.
A quick glance showed him that he should have another minute uninterrupted
with her, and he spoke: “Dear Bianca, I came to Europe to seek you. When I found in Rome that you had gone into the country for a visit, I could not wait, but followed you. I went to your lodgings in Frascati, and learned that you had all gone up to Tusculum. I meant to watch, and meet you as you came down, and know by your first glance at me if I was as welcome as I could wish to be. I had with me the spy-glass that I always take into the country, and, as I swept the country with it, I espied a little party standing under the wall of the Cappucini villa on the Tusculan hill. One of their number had climbed the steps of the shrine there to decorate it, and, just as I recognized her, she turned and stepped down toward me. The glass was so clear and strong that she seemed stepping within my reach, and to me. I accepted it as a good omen, and returned to Rome content. I think you know me well enough to be sure that this is no trifling fancy, and that, if you can put your hand in mine, with the help of God, I will never allow you to regret it. Was my omen false?”
She listened with her lovely face lifted and lighted, and, when he ended, uttered a soft little exclamation, “O Marion!” and gave him her hand.
“How beautiful St. Peter’s is by this light!” Mr. Vane said, glancing round at them from the other side of the loggia, whither he had gone.
His glance became a gaze as he saw them coming toward him; for Marion held openly the hand that Bianca had given him, and led her to her father. “Are you willing, sir?” he asked in a low voice.
The others were about joining them, and Mr. Vane could only press their two hands together.
He glanced sharply at the Signora as she approached, and saw her face flash out in a swift smile when she caught sight of their position.
“I have been a fool,” he muttered.