"I did not love Ippolito at all," said Giulia, nettled. "I suppose one may be sorry for a friend, without having been in love with him. You do injustice to the memory of my dear Duke, to suppose I could ever forget him." "As to that," said Vittoria, "considering your good Duke's years and infirmities, it is difficult for any one to see why you should be inconsolable. I am sure I am quite ready to do justice to all his qualities of head and heart; but, if I am to speak sincerely, I must own that your deploring him in the way you have done has always seemed to me a little exaggerated." "I never asked you to speak sincerely," returned Giulia; "and people generally make that a pretext for saying things that are disagreeable. As for exaggeration, nobody possessed of any feeling could consistently accuse me of having too much of it." "I am the last person to make an inconsistent accusation," observed Vittoria, "and my own irreparable and immense loss is too world-known for any one to say I want feeling. I think, cousin, there is no one in Italy, unless yourself, who has not compassionated me in having been bereaved of my beloved, adored Pescara, a man of infinite virtues, graces, and attractions; in war a hero, in wisdom a sage; in love and constancy a perfect phoenix,--reft from me, me wretched! in the very prime and flower of his life." "Well, and I was very sorry for it," said Giulia, "as sorry as it was possible to be for a man I had never seen, because I could feel for _you_, cousin; and I went into the deepest mourning--" "The outward garb has little to do with inward woe, Duchess," said Vittoria, severely, "else I had worn weeds for ever"--and she plunged into her pocket for her handkerchief. "Well, and so should I have done, Marchioness," said Giulia. And then they both burst into tears. "Oh, Giulia," said Vittoria, in a stifled voice, after crying some time, "why _will_ you try me so?" "Why, you began," said Giulia. And then they embraced, like Brutus and Cassius; and Vittoria's good and kindly nature recovering its ascendancy, she said with her charming smile: "I really thank you, Giulia, for upsetting me, for I have wanted the relief of a good cry for some time." "You dear thing," said Giulia, kissing her--"that was just my feeling too." So, after this little squall, there was bright sunshine. And as this was only a day or two before the 17th of August, when the Emperor was expected to land on his return from Africa, Vittoria proposed to Giulia that they should witness the procession together from the balcony of a friend's palace in the best situation. Giulia said half reluctantly, "I don't affect such worldly scenes much--" "Nor do I, certainly," said Vittoria. "But yet I should like to show my loyalty to the Emperor; and the scene will not be a mere show, but will have a kind of historic interest; and will doubtless figure hereafter on the historic page. So that, if I go, surely you may."