Venice, on the contrary, love and its myriad ties, the sweet business
of real happiness, fills up all the time.

In that country, love is so much a matter of course that the Duchess
was regarded as a wonder; for, in spite of her violent attachment to
Emilio, everybody was confident of her immaculate purity. And women
gave their sincere pity to the poor young man, who was regarded as a
victim to the virtue of his lady-love. At the same time, no one cared
to blame the Duchess, for in Italy religion is a power as much
respected as love.

Evening after evening Massimilla's box was the first object of every
opera-glass, and each woman would say to her lover, as she studied the
Duchess and her adorer:

"How far have they got?"

The lover would examine Emilio, seeking some evidence of success;
would find no expression but that of a pure and dejected passion. And
throughout the house, as they visited from box to box, the men would
say to the ladies:

"La Cataneo is not yet Emilio's."

"She is unwise," said the old women. "She will tire him out."

"_Forse!_" (Perhaps) the young wives would reply, with the solemn
accent that Italians can infuse into that great word--the answer to
many questions here below.