I also like the brightness of the stars. But dark rooms sadden me.”

Madame Floriani, to whom this house brought back both sweet and cruel memories, had made many changes and improvements in it All she had left untouched was the bedroom once occupied by her godmother, Signora Ranieri, and a special patch of garden where this excellent woman cultivated flowers and taught her god-daughter to love them. Signora Ranieri had loved Lucrezia tenderly, she had done her utmost to induce the old miserly lawyer, of whom she had had the misfortune to be both wife and slave, to unite her son in marriage to this peasant girl whom she had brought up and educated. But she had failed; and now the whole Ranieri family was gone. Madame Floriani cherished the memory of some of them, forgave the others and, after much emotion, she had become accustomed to living here without thinking too much of the past. It was because she had made several necessary and tasteful improvements to this house, which was basically very simple, that old Menapace who could not understand these needs of hers for elegance, harmony and style, accused her of ruining herself.

The appearance of this drawing room pleased Karol, too. This kind of Italian luxury which concentrates on satisfaction to the eye, beauty of line and monumental elegance rather than profusion, comfort and richness of furniture, was exactly in keeping with his own tastes and corresponded to the ideas he held of an existence both noble and simple. In accordance with his habit of not wishing to probe too far into the soul of another person and looking at the frame rather than studying the picture he sought something in her outer behaviour which might comfort him for what he thought must be scandalous and culpable in her intimate life.

But while Karol was occupied with admiring the brightly coloured walls, the limpid fountains and the exotic flowers, Salvator was preoccupied with something entirely different. He was looking at Madame Floriani both anxiously and eagerly. He was afraid he would not find her beautiful and perhaps at the same time bearing in mind the solemn promise he had made to leave the following day, he partly wished that it would be so.

As soon as he saw her in a light sufficiently bright he did indeed observe a definite change in her freshness and beauty. She had put on a little weight; her delicate complexion had given way to a uniform pallor, her eyes had lost some of their brilliance, the expression of her features was no longer the same. In short, she was less vivid and less animated, although she appeared more active and better in health than ever. She was no longer in love; she was a different woman, and it required a few moments for him to adjust himself to this change.

At this time Madame Floriani was thirty, and Salvator had not seen her for five years. He had left her in the midst of emotions resulting from work, love and fame. Now he found her a mother, a country woman, a retired genius, a star grown dim.

She was quickly aware of the impression made upon him by this change, because they had taken one another by the hand and were looking at each other closely, both smiling, she calm and radiant, he anxious and melancholy.

“Well,” she said to him in a frank, resolute tone, “we have both changed, haven’t we? And we both have something to correct in our recollections. The change is entirely in your favour, dear Count You have gained much. You used to be an amiable and interesting young man. And now you are still a young man, but at the height of your physical powers, darker, stronger, with a handsome black beard, magnificent eyes, a lion’s mane and an air of triumph and success. You are at the most beautiful moment of life’s blossoming and you are enjoying it to the full. That is obvious from your look which is more assured and brilliant than it was in the old days. Possibly you are surprised that you are more good-looking to-day than I am. You will remember the time when it was the opposite. There are two reasons for it: you are less impetuous and I am less young. I am in the process of descending the slope which you are still climbing. You used to raise your head to look at me and now you bend to seek me below you, on the far side of life. Do not pity me, however! I believe I am happier in my cloud than you are in your bright sunshine.”

7.

Madame Floriani’s voice had a certain individual charm. In truth, it was too strong a voice for a lady of society, but it had retained its pristine freshness, and its timbre had not suffered from her life on the stage. Above all, the tone of her voice possessed a frankness which never left the slightest shadow of doubt of the sincerity of feeling she was expressing; and in her diction which had always been as natural on the stage as in private, nothing reminded one of the ranting and bombast of the boards. However, everything she said bore the stamp of tremendous vitality. From the accuracy of the modulation of her voice, Karol judged that she must have been a perfect actress of irresistible appeal It was on this head that he expressed his approval, determined as he was never to see anything interesting in her save as an artist.

Salvator knew that she was too sincere by nature to pretend detachment from herself.