At these words his face assumed an expression which I answered with a smile of disdain.
“Do you suppose, Mario, if I did not come here with Lorenzo, I would accept the escort of any other gentleman?” I stopped a moment, at once irritated and impatient, but finally continued:
“The fact is, Mario, if you must know it, it was he, it was Lorenzo himself, I came to see. I wished to play a joke on him and mystify him a little, by way of amusing myself.”
I think my smile must have been frightful as I said this, for my brother looked anxiously at me, though he seemed satisfied with my explanation.
“But I have been punished,” I continued, “terribly punished.... I failed in my object,... and thought I should die in the crowd.”
I could say no more. The tears I could not repress choked me. Mario at once softened.
“I understand, sister—the noise, heat, and so forth were overpowering. Those who go to a bal masqué [pg 306] for the first time often experience this, but another time it will not happen.”
“God preserve me from ever going to another!” said I in a low tone. “But I was about to say, Mario, that the person, the lady, who came with me is probably looking for me by this time. Search for her. Her domino is like mine, and you will know her by a sprig of jasmine tied with a red ribbon.”
“I saw such a domino not long ago on Lando's arm.”
“It was she. Find her, and tell her not to be anxious; that I was ill, and could not wait for her. That is all. Thanks, Mario. One word more, however. As I did not succeed with regard to Lorenzo, I do not wish him to know anything about it.”