"Does our
happiness sadden you?"
"Your husband is a young man," he whispered in her ear.
She broke into such a frank, infectious laugh that Rodolphe was still
more puzzled.
"He is but sixty-five, at your service," said she; "but I can assure
you that even that is something--to be thankful for!"
"I do not like to hear you jest about an affection so sacred as this,
of which you yourself prescribed the conditions."
"_Zitto_!" said she, stamping her foot, and looking whether her
husband were listening. "Never disturb the peace of mind of that dear
man, as simple as a child, and with whom I can do what I please. He is
under my protection," she added. "If you could know with what
generosity he risked his life and fortune because I was a Liberal! for
he does not share my political opinions. Is not that love, Monsieur
Frenchman?--But they are like that in his family. Emilio's younger
brother was deserted for a handsome youth by the woman he loved. He
thrust his sword through his own heart ten minutes after he had said
to his servant, 'I could of course kill my rival, but that would
grieve the _Diva_ too deeply.'"
This mixture of dignity and banter, of haughtiness and playfulness,
made Francesca at this moment the most fascinating creature in the
world. The dinner and the evening were full of cheerfulness,
justified, indeed, by the relief of the two refugees, but depressing
to Rodolphe.
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