‘For a gentleman?’ said Signor Giuseppe sadly, but his face lighted up for all that; the words had been inexpressibly soothing to his irritated feelings; as to their sincerity he could have no manner of doubt. ‘Ah, signora, I was a gentleman once; that was when I was young and hated aristocracy, and thought one man was as good as another--and one woman. Destiny arranged that my theories should be put to a severe test. That test shattered them--scattered them to the winds in a thousand fragments. Shreds, rags, ribbons were all that was left of my glorious doctrines. When it was too late I realized that in flinging away my position and my inheritance, such as it was--not much, but enough to let me use it for others as well as for myself--in doing this I had done a fool’s deed. It had been kinder both to myself and to others had I remained Conte di San Malato, and kept my money and my estate. I might have improved my own dependents, my neighbours; my charity might have begun at home. Instead, I devoted it, as I hoped, to the good of Italy in general--the cause of humanity at large. When I knew by heart the mistake I had made, when I found the condition to which ignorance and trustfulness had reduced me, I set myself to work to forget that I had ever been what is called a gentleman. I cast in my lot with those to whom I had bound myself, in honour if not in law. I did not suppose that the least rag, the smallest vestige, was left--of what I used to be. Yet you say you can see some such remnants.’ ‘Now,’ said Minna, smiling, but through a mist, ‘now you will really make me laugh at you. I suppose you never indulge in analysis of your own feelings and sentiments, or I would ask you, why do you feel miserable in your present circumstances? why do they jar upon you? why do you get so angry with me--unhappy me!--for seeing you engaged in duties which a servant ought to do? why have you come here now and talked to me thus, if not for that very reason, that a gentleman you always have been, a gentleman you are, and a gentleman you must remain, whatever may happen? It cannot be scorched out of the blood when once it is in it. Why should you care, except for that? You have lost your position outwardly, yet you did not wish me to misunderstand; you feared I might. But I have not done so, not for a moment, not from the very first. How could I?’ ‘You mean,’ he said, in a tone of deep dejection, ‘that you did not, even for the first day or two that you were with us, take me for a hired steward, something like the head-waiter at a very third-rate hotel?’