Further on in the letter he informed me: "My uncle is at death's door, but though that door stands wide open for him, he cannot make up his mind to go in. His hesitation will not be allowed to last, so the doctors tell me--at any rate I fervently hope I shall not be kept waiting too long, otherwise I shall return to Naples and sacrifice my heritage, for I am restless and unhappy away from Nina, though I know she is safely guarded by your protecting care."
I read this particular paragraph to my wife, watching her closely as I slowly enunciated the words contained in it. She listened, and a vivid blush crimsoned her cheeks--a blush of indignation--and her brows contracted in the vexed frown I knew so well. Her lips parted in a half-sweet, half-chilly smile as she said, quietly: "I owe you my thanks, conte, for showing me to what extent Signor Ferrari's impertinence may reach. I am surprised at his writing to you in such a manner! The fact is, my late husband's attachment for him was so extreme that he now presumes upon a supposed right that he has over me--he fancies I am really his sister, and that he can tyrannize, as brothers sometimes do! I really regret I have been so patient with him--I have allowed him too much liberty."
True enough! I thought and smiled bitterly. I was now in the heat of the game--the moves must be played quickly--there was no more time for hesitation or reflection.
"I think, madam," I said, deliberately, as I folded Guido's letter and replaced it in my pocket-book, "Signor Ferrari ardently aspires to be something more than a brother to you at no very distant date."
Oh, the splendid hypocrisy of women! No wonder they make such excellent puppets on the theatrical stage--acting is their natural existence, sham their breath of life! This creature showed no sign of embarrassment--she raised her eyes frankly to mine in apparent surprise--then she gave a little low laugh of disdain.
"Indeed!" she said. "Then I fear Signor Ferrari is doomed to have his aspirations disappointed! My dear conte," and here she rose and swept softly across the room toward me with that graceful gliding step that somehow always reminded me of the approach of a panther, "do you really mean to tell me that his audacity has reached such a height that--really it is TOO absurd!--that he hopes to marry me?" And sinking into a chair near mine she looked at me in calm inquiry. Lost in amazement at the duplicity of the Vroman, I answered, briefly: "I believe so! He intimated as much to me." She smiled scornfully.