"Signor Rovero," said the ambassadress, after a long silence, "since you think me unworthy to share your secret, let us have done with it. Skilful physicians lull pains they cannot soothe. Let me then do as they do, and divert your mind from such bitter thoughts to present it a more pleasant prospect--that of your sister's happiness." "What say you?" asked Taddeo, as if he were aroused from a dream. "You understand me certainly--the approaching marriage of your sister with Count Monte-Leone is everywhere understood to be a fact." "Never!" said Taddeo, losing his _sang-froid_. A smile of triumph, which Taddeo did not observe, flitted across La Felina's face. She said, "What say you?--do you oppose the union?" "It is no longer possible, signora," said Taddeo, giving way to his emotion--"it cannot be. Vice and virtue--the serpent and the dove--heaven and hell--may be mingled, but not Aminta and Monte-Leone. He is unworthy of her." "Unworthy?" said La Felina--"your heroic friend unworthy of her?" "My friend! I deny him. He was my friend, as Judas was Christ's. For he has sold his, as the recreant sold our Saviour." "Taddeo! is it you who speak thus?" "It is. I, whose soul has been crushed by his cruel deception--I, whose holy faith in his truth has perished--I, who must detest him whom I loved and honored!" Unable any longer to conceal the odious secret within his breast, he opened his bleeding heart to La Felina. When the Duchess had heard him, she said, "No, it is impossible!--Monte-Leone is not a traitor, a coward, the basest of men." "Ah! you say so; so did I. I repelled the charge with horror; yet I was forced to yield to reason and evidence." "It is evident either that you saw or did not see _him_." "But the departure from your hotel," said Taddeo, "coincides so fatally with his arrival at the prefecture of police--the very answer of the driver proves all." "All this is presumptive, yet terrible; but if you yield--if your faith in his honor is not great enough to triumph over it, do you believe that a true passion, that a deep love, such as he inspires, will also do so?" "Ah, signora!" said Taddeo, with pain, "you have been generous long enough; you have had pity or time long enough to allow me at least to remain in doubt about your sentiments. It is cruel to choose such a time as this to own them." "How know you what I feel?" said La Felina to Taddeo, who was about to go. "Think you the profound passion of which you speak can resist indifference and forgetfulness?--I spoke only of your sister." "Is it true?" said the young man, forgetting all in his joy at this confession--"of my sister?"