Oriole's daughter, a novel, Volume 1 (of 3)Fothergill, Jessie
General
Oriole's daughter, a novel, Volume 1 (of 3)
Fothergill, Jessie
Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Illegitimate children -- Fiction; Married women -- Fiction; Rome (Italy) -- Fiction
‘I thought so,’ Minna said to herself, and continued aloud: ‘When you
were trying to bridge over the interval at dinner by talking about
Tiberius and Caligula I admired you. It showed what topics your
mind would run upon if it might follow its own bent. When you talked
about Caligula’s assassination, I thought suddenly about a silly old
lesson-book from which I used to be taught what they called Roman
history in my childhood. My companions and I used to make jokes about
it. One of those silly old jokes came into my mind; it all seemed so
funny. I laughed. I was not laughing at you. You may believe me or not;
I am telling you the truth. You have often thought I was laughing at
you when I was not. You have often been angry with me when I did not in
the least deserve it. You were yesterday, and I felt it.’
She spoke with considerable force and directness, looking at him
steadily as she did so. And as she looked it came into her mind that
seldom or never had she seen a more distinguished, intellectual head
and face than those of her visitor. All the passionate unrest and
irritation which consumed him throughout his life at Casa Dietrich
had vanished--one could see now something of what Signor Giuseppe, in
happier circumstances, might have looked.
There was the nameless grace and pride and high breeding which belongs
to one of noble race who has been reared in the traditions of that
race. He can never cast off the results of that early training. Though
not a weak face, it was a sensitive, passionate one--the face of one
whose impulse might now and then lead him into error; but his heart,
never. He paused for some time after her energetic words, looking
reflectively towards the floor; then, raising his eyes, dark, soft, and
gentle, as she had never seen them before, said:
‘Signora, answer me one question: for what do you take me?’
‘For a gentleman,’ replied Minna, who had got very much excited, though
she did not betray the excitement by any restlessness of manner; ‘for
a gentleman, signore, with whom I would gladly be further acquainted
and on more friendly terms, if he would allow it; but he will not. He
renders it impossible by his harsh treatment of both himself and me.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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