"But do you not overate the value of my aid?" "Possibly," said the Count, with a caressing suavity--and he kissed his sister's forehead. "Possibly; but by my honor, I wish to repair to you any wrong, real or supposed, I may have done you in past times. I wish to find again my own dear sister. I may overvalue your aid, but not the affection from which it comes. Let us be friends, _cara Beatrice mia_," added the Count, for the first time employing Italian words. The Marchesa laid her head on his shoulder, and her tears flowed softly. Evidently this man had great influence over her--and evidently, whatever her cause for complaint, her affection for him was still sisterly and strong. A nature with fine flashes of generosity, spirit, honor, and passion, was hers--but uncultured, unguided--spoilt by the worst social examples--easily led into wrong--not always aware where the wrong was--letting affections good or bad whisper away her conscience, or blind her reason. Such women are often far more dangerous when induced to wrong, than those who are thoroughly abandoned--such women are the accomplices men like the Count of Peschiera most desire to obtain. "Ah, Giulio," said Beatrice, after a pause, and looking up at him through her tears, "when you speak to me thus, you know you can do with me what you will. Fatherless and motherless, whom had my childhood to love and obey but you?" "Dear Beatrice," murmured the Count tenderly--and he again kissed her forehead. "So," he continued more carelessly--"so the reconciliation is effected, and our interests and our hearts re-allied. Now, alas, to descend to business. You say that you know some one whom you believe to be acquainted with the lurking-place of my father-in-law--that is to be!" "I think so. You remind me that I have an appointment with him this day; it is near the hour--I must leave you." "To learn the secret?--Quick--quick. I have no fear of your success, if it is by his heart that you lead him?" "You mistake; on his heart I have no hold. But he has a friend who loves me, and honorably, and whose cause he pleads. I think here that I have some means to control or persuade him. If not--ah, he is of a character that perplexes me in all but his worldly ambition; and how can we foreigners influence him through _that_?" "Is he poor, or is he extravagant?" "Not extravagant, and not positively poor, but dependent." "Then we have him," said the Count composedly. "If his assistance be worth buying, we can bid high for it. _Sur mon âme_, I never yet knew money fail with any man who was both worldly and dependent. I put him and myself in your hands."