"And should he be miserly, Mary, will he accept the conditions I propose? I shall demand of him the renunciation of a considerable portion of his possessions in favor of his nephew Geronimo. Would it not be an insult to you, which your brothers would avenge, were your hand to be refused from pecuniary motives? I regret that you have so irrevocably fixed your affections on the Signor Geronimo, when you might have chosen among a hundred others richer and of higher estate. The head of the powerful house of Buonvisi had more claim upon my sympathy and yours." "Simon Turchi!" said the young girl, sorrowfully bowing her head. "What has this poor Signor Turchi left undone during the past three years to prove his chivalric love?" replied her father. "Festivals, banquets, concerts, boating on the Scheldt, nothing has been spared; he has expended a fortune to please you. At one time you did not dislike him; but ever since the fatal night when he was attacked by unknown assassins and wounded in the face, you look upon him with different eyes. Instead of being grateful to the good Turchi, you comport yourself in such a manner towards him, that I am induced to believe that you hate him." "Hate the Signor Turchi!" exclaimed Mary, as if frightened by the accusation. "Dear father, do not indulge such a thought." "He is a handsome, dignified gentleman, my child." "Yes, father; he has long been an intimate friend of the Signor Geronimo."[7] Mr. Van de Werve took his daughter's hand, and said, gently: "Geronimo may be finer-looking to a woman's eye; but his future depends upon his uncle's kindness. He is young and inexperienced, and he possesses nothing himself. The Signor Turchi, on the contrary, is rich and highly esteemed in the world as partner and administrator of the well-known house of Buonvisi. Think better of your choice, Mary; satisfy my desires and your brothers': it is not yet too late." Tears filled the eyes of the young girl; she replied, however, with a sweet resignation: "Father, I am your submissive child. Command, and I will obey without a murmur, and humbly kiss the venerated hand which imposes the painful sacrifice. But Geronimo! poor Geronimo!" At these words her fortitude forsook her; she covered her face with her hands, and wept bitterly; her tears fell like bright pearls upon the marble floor. For some moments Mr. Van de Werve contemplated his daughter with ever-increasing pity; then overcome by the sight of her grief, he took her hand, and tenderly pressing it, he said to her: "Cheer up, my dear Mary, do not weep. We will see what answer the Signor Deodati will return to the conditions I will propose to him. Geronimo is of noble birth; if his uncle will consent to bestow upon him a suitable fortune, your desires shall be fulfilled." "But, dear father," said the still weeping girl, "that depends upon the magnitude of your demands. If you ask impossibilities of the Signor Deodati--"