The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 3, June, 1851Various
History
The International Monthly, Volume 3, No. 3, June, 1851
Various
Art, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; Science -- History -- Periodicals
Fearful lest his father should become angry with Maulear, Aminta
restrained the secret which seemed ready to burst from her lips. She
spoke of vague suspicions and anxiety at the Marquis's uneasiness, but
said nothing particular. The Prince, who never in his life had known
what jealousy was, had some difficulty in understanding how it could
create such despair. His attention, however, was not the less vigilant
in relation to the affairs of the young couple. A circumstance which
occurred soon after enabled him to ascertain much. A number of persons
assembled one night at the rooms of the Marquise de Maulear. Count
Monte-Leone had become one of Aminta's most assiduous visitors. The
tacit permission he had received from Aminta, the formal authority of
the Marquis, the sympathy of the old Prince, to whom the pleasant,
energetic character of the Count, and his noble bearing, made him
every day more attractive--all taken in connection with the intimacy
of Taddeo and Monte-Leone, authorized him to visit the Marquise
freely. The devotion of Monte-Leone to Aminta had never been
diminished. He had felt only an inclination towards La Felina, an
error of the senses and imagination, excited by mortified love, and
favored by the isolation of the Lago di Como. His heart had little
share in it. When, therefore, he saw the Marquise de Maulear more
attractive than ever, he discovered that in his whole life he had
loved her alone. The Marquis de Maulear appeared but rarely at the
hotel, coming home at a late hour and going out early.
Monte-Leone and Taddeo were talking together, and this fragment of
their conversation struck the ear of the old Prince, who seemed
entirely absorbed by a game of whist.
"Will not the Marquis be here to-night?" said the Count to Taddeo.
"I doubt it: sometimes the master of the hotel is here less frequently
than any one else."
"Perhaps he is now," said the Count, "where he goes almost every
night, they say."
"You jest," said Taddeo; "I think he is here every night."
"He should, but he is not. All I can say is, that on the night of
M.L.'s ball, he was ... where I saw him."
"Where was he?" asked Taddeo, impatiently.
"I will tell you--but come away from the whist-table."
* * * * *
"But you do not return my lead," said the Prince's partner, "you
should play hearts."
"True," said the Prince, musing; and he led hearts. His eyes, though,
followed Taddeo and Monte-Leone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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