"Of course she provokes envy. But I say that her name is bad, as envy
could not make it. She is a woman who goes on missions, and carries a
husband into society like a passport. You have only thought of her
beauty?"

"I can see nothing else," said Vittoria, whose torture at the sight of
the beauty was appeased by her disingenuous pleading on its behalf.

"In my time Beauty was a sinner," the countess resumed. "My confessor
has filled my ears with warnings that it is a net to the soul, a weapon
for devils. May the saints of Paradise make bare the beauty of this
woman. She has persuaded Carlo that she is serving the country. You
have let him lie here alone in a fruitless bed, silly girl. He stayed
for you while his comrades called him to Vercelli, where they are
assembled. The man whom he salutes as his Chief gave him word to go
there. They are bound for Rome. Ah me! Rome is a great name, but
Lombardy is Carlo's natal home, and Lombardy bleeds. You were absent--
how long you were absent! If you could know the heaviness of those days
of his waiting for you. And it was I who kept him here! I must have
omitted a prayer, for he would have been at Vercelli now with Luciano and
Emilio, and you might have gone to him; but he met this woman, who has
convinced him that Piedmont will make a Winter march, and that his
marriage must be delayed." The countess raised her face and drooped her
hands from the wrists, exclaiming, "If I have lately omitted one prayer,
enlighten me, blessed heaven! I am blind; I cannot see for my son; I am
quite blind. I do not love the woman; therefore I doubt myself. You, my
daughter, tell me your thought of her, tell me what you think. Young
eyes observe; young heads are sometimes shrewd in guessing."

Vittoria said, after a pause, "I will believe her to be true, if she