"Eccomi qua!" he cried, seizing my hands enthusiastically in his own. "My dear conte, I am delighted to see you! What an excellent fellow you are! A kind of amiable Arabian Nights genius, who occupies himself in making mortals happy. And how are you? You look remarkably well!"
"I can return the compliment," I said, gayly. "You are more of an Antinous than ever."
He laughed, well pleased, and sat down, drawing off his gloves and loosening his traveling overcoat.
"Well, I suppose plenty of cash puts a man in good humor, and therefore in good condition," he replied. "But my dear fellow, you are dressed for dinner--quel preux chevalier! I am positively unfit to be in your company! You insisted that I should come to you directly, on my arrival, but I really must change my apparel. Your man took my valise; in it are my dress-clothes--I shall not be ten minutes putting them on."
"Take a glass of wine first," I said, pouring out some of his favorite Montepulciano. "There is plenty of time. It is barely seven, and we do not dine till eight." He took the wine from my hand and smiled. I returned the smile, adding, "It gives me great pleasure to receive you, Ferrari! I have been impatient for your return--almost as impatient as--" He paused in the act of drinking, and his eyes flashed delightedly.
"As SHE has? Piccinina! How I long to see her again! I swear to you, amico, I should have gone straight to the Villa Romani had I obeyed my own impulse--but I had promised you to come here, and, on the whole, the evening will do as well"--and he laughed with a covert meaning in his laughter--"perhaps better!"
My hands clinched, but I said with forced gayety: "Ma certamente! The evening will be much better! Is it not Byron who says that women, like stars, look best at night? You will find her the same as ever, perfectly well and perfectly charming. It must be her pure and candid soul that makes her face so fair! It may be a relief to your mind to know that I am the only man she has allowed to visit her during your absence!"
"Thank God for that!" cried Ferrari, devoutly, as he tossed off his wine. "And now tell me, my dear conte, what bacchanalians are coming to-night? Per Dio, after all I am more in the humor for dinner than love-making!"