he had seen with growing distrust the change in Gianbattista's manner,
and in the last words he had spoken to the apprentice he had uttered
what was really in his heart. He was afraid of being altogether
overwhelmed by the majority against him in his own house. He hated Paolo
with his whole soul, and he had hated him all his life. This calm,
obliging brother of his stood between him and all peace of mind. It was
not the least of his grievances that he received most of his commissions
through the priest who was constantly in relation with the cardinal and
rich prelates who were the patrons of his art. The sense of obligation
which he felt was often almost unbearable, and he longed to throw it
off. The man whom he hated for his own sake and despised for his
connection with the church, was daily in his house; at every turn he met
with Paolo's tacit disapprobation or outspoken resistance. For a long
time Paolo had doubted whether the marriage between the two young people
would turn out well, and while he expressed his doubts Marzio had
remained stubborn in his determination. Latterly, and doubtless owing to
the change in Gianbattista's character, Paolo had always spoken of the
marriage with favour. This sufficed at first to rouse Marzio's
suspicions, and ultimately led to his opposing with all his might what
he had so long and so vigorously defended; he resolved to be done with
what he considered a sort of slavery, and at one stroke to free himself
from his brother's influence, and to assure Lucia's future. During
several weeks he had planned the scene which had taken place that
evening, waiting for his opportunity, trying to make sure of being
strong enough to make it effective, and revolving the probable answers
he might expect from the different persons concerned. It had come, and
he was satisfied with the result.

Marzio Pandolfi's intelligence lacked logic. In its place he possessed
furious enthusiasm, an exaggerated estimate of the value of his social