‘How?’ asked Minna, almost breathlessly. ‘She says I am to be married,’ replied Fulvia, whose lips were dry, despite the glowing picture she had just been painting. ‘Married!--may I ask to whom?’ ‘Oh yes. To Signor Marchmont. He has been in love with me, he says, ever since he first saw me. He is fabulously rich. We went to the opera with him last night. He talked to me all the time. This morning, very early, he came to see mamma. Just before lunch he went away, and she called me, and told me he had asked her for my hand, and that she had promised it to him.’ ‘She did not ask you whether you wished him to have it?’ ‘Ask me? Che! She can do as she likes,’ said Fulvia, across whose face a dreadful expression was creeping, which turned Minna’s heart cold. ‘But--but----’ ‘She told me all that I have told you. I am to have all these things I have been describing to you, and many more--carriages and horses, and men-servants. And I am to travel, and go to Australia, that he may show his friends there what a beautiful wife he has got. But I am not to live there. I shall live in London or Paris.’ ‘Not in Rome?’ ‘No, not in Rome,’ replied Fulvia, a cold despair in her voice. ‘It seems he objects to Rome; and he told mamma he did not want my relations--he wanted me.’ ‘But, my child, there is something all wrong in this. Why do you look at me in that way if----’ ‘Oh, it is all right, of course,’ said Fulvia, with a little grating laugh. ‘It is so surprising, that is all. Why do I trouble you with it? Because you are kind--because I heard Beppo say that you were noble-minded. Because you were kind to my poor little birds, so I was sure you would be kind to me, and----’ Almost simultaneously they rose from their chairs. Minna advanced towards Fulvia, who was looking at her now with undisguised despair, with distended eyes full of horror. ‘Fulvia, I only saw you yesterday morning for the first time, but I knew in a moment that you were not happy. I saw it again last night at dinner. You are not happy, in spite of all that you tell me about dresses, and jewels, and so forth. Speak out! You do not wish to marry this man. You are not satisfied about it.’