‘Has it lasted? I should think so. He’s the meanest miser in existence. He wants everything and he gets everything, and manages to pay less for it than if he were a decent fellow worth five thousand a year. That man has lived in every capital in Europe, and knows everything there is bad in every one of them, and he has done it cheap. That’s the disgusting part of it,’ said Hans resentfully; and Minna, though she could have given no reason for it, felt resentful, too--so true is it that prodigality carries with it a certain charm, and that the man who ruins himself ‘royally,’ as one says, earns an amount of admiration and distinction, while the economical rake gets the full measure of condemnation for all his sins, and the hatred of all who know anything about him to boot. ‘Then he is really rich now? What brings him to a place like this?’ ‘Oh, I can’t tell. It’s about six months since they met him somewhere or other, and he took an immense fancy to Fulvia, which is not returned, as you may see. I believe Signora Dietrich thinks that, if she angles cleverly and patiently enough, he will actually propose for the girl. Goodness knows what he will do. As you might hear to-night--he took care to let us know--he has been opening his purse-strings for bouquets and opera-boxes, which looks serious. He’s the most awful cad that ever walked this earth, and the hardness of him is something appalling.’ ‘And Signor Oriole?’ said Minna in a low voice. ‘He loathes him,’ said Hans, reddening. ‘Oriole is a gentleman; you see what the other is. But what is he to do? He has no legal authority here. There’s nothing acknowledged as to their former relations. He has no money with which to bribe the signora, and that’s the only thing that touches her. She is over head and ears in debt, but I think even she will hardly get her debts paid by Marchmont. Altogether, it’s not a savoury story. Don’t you bother yourself about it.’ ‘I cannot help thinking about that girl. She is so beautiful, and there’s something so sweet, and even stately, about her sometimes, child as she is. You must know all that, Hans. What do you think about it all? Don’t you admire her immensely?’ She looked at him searchingly. Hans shrugged his shoulders again and bit his lips and coloured. ‘You see too much,’ he said. ‘There are limits even to my folly. Poor little Fulvia! She is completely changed within the last few months. She used to be the gayest, jolliest girl--full of fun; not like the Italian _jeunes filles_ usually are, but with a real sense of humour, and such a healthy kind of nature. She used to chaff us all round, not a bit rudely, and say the most laughable things to us, and now one can hardly get a word out of her. It’s an awful pity!’ ‘It is indeed,’ Minna assented mournfully. ‘That man is to me the most horrible creature I have ever seen. There’s something of the snake about him.’