Then he began to talk gaily of the girls of Rome, the little princesses,
the little duchesses, so discreetly educated at the convent of the Sacred
Heart, quitting it for the most part so ignorant and then completing
their education beside their mothers, never going out but to accompany
the latter on the obligatory drive to the Corso, and living through
endless days, cloistered, imprisoned in the depths of sombre mansions.
Nevertheless what tempests raged in those mute souls to which none had
ever penetrated! what stealthy growth of will suddenly appeared from
under passive obedience, apparent unconsciousness of surroundings! How
many there were who stubbornly set their minds on carving out their lives
for themselves, on choosing the man who might please them, and securing
him despite the opposition of the entire world! And the lover was chosen
there from among the stream of young men promenading the Corso, the lover
hooked with a glance during the daily drive, those candid eyes speaking
aloud and sufficing for confession and the gift of all, whilst not a
breath was wafted from the lips so chastely closed. And afterwards there
came love letters, furtively exchanged in church, and the winning-over of
maids to facilitate stolen meetings, at first so innocent. In the end, a
marriage often resulted.

Celia, for her part, had determined to win Attilio on the very first day
when their eyes had met. And it was from a window of the Palazzo
Buongiovanni that she had perceived him one afternoon of mortal
weariness. He had just raised his head, and she had taken him for ever
and given herself to him with those large, pure eyes of hers as they
rested on his own. She was but an /amorosa/--nothing more; he pleased
her; she had set her heart on him--him and none other. She would have
waited twenty years for him, but she relied on winning him at once by
quiet stubbornness of will. People declared that the terrible fury of the