which there was much good and hardly any real evil.

But she could not escape from a little inherited and acquired cynicism
either, and while Malipieri chatted quietly during luncheon, an
explanation of the whole matter occurred to her which was not pleasant
to contemplate. The story about the treasure might or might not be
true, but he believed in it, and so did Volterra. The Baron was
therefore employing him to discover the prize. But Malipieri showed
plainly that he wished her to possess it, if it were ever found, and
perhaps he meant it to be her dowry, in which case it would come into
his own hands if he could marry her. This was ingenious, if it was
nothing else, and though Sabina felt that there was something mean
about it, she resented the idea that he should expect her to think him
a model of generosity when she hardly knew him.

She was therefore very quiet, and looked at him rather coldly when he
spoke to her, but the Baroness put this down to her admirably correct
manners, and was already beginning to consider how she could approach
Malipieri on the subject of his marrying Sabina. She was quite in
ignorance of the business which had brought him and her husband
together, as Sabina now knew from many remarks she remembered.
Volterra was accustomed to tell his wife what he had been doing when
the matter was settled, and she had long ago given up trying to make
him talk of his affairs when he chose to be silent.

On the whole, so far as Sabina was concerned, the circumstances were
not at first very favourable to the Baroness's newly formed plan on
this occasion, though she did not know it. On the other hand,
Malipieri discovered before luncheon was over, that Sabina interested
him very much, that she was much prettier than he had realized at his