“It will not be necessary to wait so long as you suppose, I assure you. Long before my hair grows white, what there is good and true in your friendship will be restored to me. For before that day some one, more beautiful than I (whom it [pg 463] will not be difficult to find), and, moreover, worthy of you, to whom you can give your whole heart, will have effaced the remembrance of the passing fancy I have caused without intending it, but which shall not be prolonged a single instant with my consent.”
I passed by him without looking up or giving him time to reply, and returned to the drawing-room. There I seated myself on a sofa in an obscure corner of the room, or rather, I fell on it, pale, faint, and exhausted by the effort I had made.
I did not believe a word of what I had just said to Gilbert. My duty was to send him away, and this duty was accomplished! But I by no means desired another should so soon efface my image. I said so to allay his regret and appear indifferent. I was proud of the courage I had manifested. When I compared myself with Lorenzo, I thought myself perfectly heroic, and I was about to have reason to think myself a thousand times more so.
Lando at that moment left the piano, where he had been stationed all the evening beside Teresina. The latter, it may be remarked en passant, had profited so well by his hints that her toilet had become irreproachable, and now added singularly to the effect of her beauty. Lando perceived it, and it was evident he also thought of my cousin's by no means despicable dowry among her other attractions, as a possible means of abridging his exile and returning to Paris before the two years had expired. When, therefore, I saw him coming with a grave air towards the place where I was seated, I thought I was about to receive a communication I had long been prepared for. I did not suspect what he had to say concerned me much more directly than himself.
“Cousin Ginevra,” said he in a low tone, as he took a seat beside me, “I have had news from Milan.”
I started involuntarily. He did not notice it, but continued:
“News which proves I was not mistaken the other day when I told you the beautiful Faustina would take good care to avenge you. Only, I did not think it would be so soon.”
Brought back so suddenly to the most painful reality of my life, I was the more startled and confounded at what he said. Lando's gossip was usually odious to me; but now, instead of imposing silence on him, I insisted, on the contrary, that he should conceal nothing from me.
“Well, then,” continued he, “it seems the fair Milanese, notwithstanding her belle passion for Lorenzo, had never been able to console herself for being deprived of the duchess' coronet on which she had depended. So while neglecting nothing to maintain the ascendency she had regained over him, she was not wholly indifferent to the homage of a certain potentate from the Danube who offered to share with her his principality and his millions. She was still hesitating, it seems, between ambition and love, when Lorenzo, who had some suspicion, and was on the alert, unexpectedly came upon his rival. Then there was a violent scene and high words, which ended in a challenge. They were on the point of fighting when the lady prevented the affair from going any further by declaring she would give her hand to the potentate!... So in a short time, I imagine,” continued [pg 464] Lando, rubbing his hands, “Donna Faustina will take her departure for the banks of the Danube. You will be delivered for ever from her, and we shall soon see Lorenzo come home in a terrible humor. But, frankly, it is good enough for him. This punishment is not the hundredth part of what he merits when he has a wife like you!”
“O merciful heaven! what a fate is mine! and what a husband I am obliged to immolate myself to!...”