Moreover, she was aware of all that had happened during those days of misery. She knew that Michel was not in favor of their giving Magnani so much encouragement to declare himself. Michel alone had known his friend's secret, and he was alarmed for his adopted sister's sake by such a sudden reaction in her favor, which might well be an act of desperation. Mila concluded that Michel was aware that Magnani persisted in loving another woman, although the young artisan had refused to take back the princess's ring, and had begged Mila to keep it as a pledge of his esteem and respect. On that same evening, the evening that he had escorted her home from the Della Serra palace while Michel remained behind with his mother, Magnani, intoxicated by her beauty, her wit and her social success, had spoken to her so warmly that what he said was almost a declaration of love. Mila had had the strength of will to refrain from encouraging him openly. But she had believed that she had triumphed, and on the next day, the day of Agatha's declaration, she had expected to see him at her feet and to tell him at last that she loved him. But he had not appeared at all on that day, and on the days immediately following he had not addressed a single word to her; he had confined himself to bowing to her with frigid respect when he had not been able to avoid her eye. Mila, mortally wounded and distressed, had refused to tell her father the truth, when that worthy man, disturbed by her pallor, asked her almost on his knees. She had persisted in denying that she loved their young neighbor. Pier-Angelo, simple and straightforward creature that he was, could find nothing better to say to her than: "Cheer up, my child, we know very well that you love each other; but he has been uneasy and jealous on account of the Nicolosi affair; when you condescend to justify yourself in his eyes, he will fall at your feet. You will see him there to-morrow, I am sure of it." "Oho! Master Magnani presumes to be jealous and to suspect me!" rejoined Mila, hotly. "He has loved me only a day or two, he doesn't know whether I love him, and when a suspicion comes into his head, instead of humbly telling me of it and doing his best to supplant the rival who worries him, he assumes the air of a betrayed husband, gives up all idea of making himself agreeable to me and persuading me, and, I suppose, will consider that he confers great honor and great pleasure on me when he comes and tells me that he deigns to forgive me! Well, for my part, I do not forgive him. That's what you may say to him from me, father." The child persisted so in her irritation that Pier-Angelo was forced to take Magnani to her chamber door, where she let him knock a long while, and which she opened at last, saying pettishly that he seemed determined to interrupt her siesta.