hat which does not belong to him, which does not fit him and which will
not stay on his head in a high wind. The consequence was that his talk
lacked interest, and that he often did not talk at all. Nevertheless, he
managed to show enough assiduity to keep himself continually in the
foreground of Beatrice's thoughts. Being almost constantly present she
could not easily forget him, and he held his ground with a determination
which kept other men away. When a man can make a woman think of him
half-a-dozen times a day and can prevent other men from taking his place
when he is beside her, he is in a fair way to success.

On a certain evening San Miniato had a final interview with the Marchesa
di Mola in which he expressed all that he felt for Beatrice, including a
little more, and in which he described his not very prosperous financial
condition with mitigated frankness. The Marchesa listened dreamily in
the darkness on the terrace while her daughter played soft dance music
in the dimly lighted room behind her. Beatrice probably had an idea of
what was going on outside, upon the terrace, and was trying to make up
her own mind. She played waltzes very prettily, as women who dance well
generally do, if they play at all.

When San Miniato had finished, the Marchesa was silent for a few
seconds. Then she tapped her companion twice upon the arm with her fan,
in a way which would have seemed lazy in any one else, but which, for
her, was unusually energetic.

"How well you say it all!" she exclaimed.

"And you consent, dear Marchesa?" asked the Count, with an eagerness
not all feigned.