He was almost certain that a short period of consideration would resolve any hesitation that still lingered in their minds; yet, nevertheless, before he could seek the consensus of his own, as well as the count’s family, no other answer than the one already given would be possible. Hereupon the count replied that he was an orphan and free, therefore, to answer for himself. His uncle was General K . . . , of whose consent he could assure him. He added that he possessed a considerable fortune and would be prepared to make Italy his home. The commandant made an obligatory bow, once again reiterated his intention, and asked his interlocutor to speak no more of this matter until his return. After a moment’s pause, during which the count gave every indication of the greatest distress, he turned to the marquise’s mother and insisted that he had done his utmost to avert this trip; that the efforts he had dared make to that end in his appeals to the commanding general, and to his uncle, General K . . . , stretched the limits of military decorum; but that his superiors thought, thereby, to shake him out of a lingering dejection in the wake of his injuries; and that he now felt as if he’d been sent to his doom. The family did not know what to make of all these declarations. Rubbing his forehead, the count continued that if there were any hope of thereby expediting his cherished wish, he would do his best to defer his journey for a day and even a bit more. Whereupon, he turned, respectively, from the commandant to the marquise and then to her mother. The commandant peered down with a look of displeasure and did not reply. His wife said: “Go then, go then, Sir Count; take care of your affairs in Naples; and upon your return, accord us the pleasure of your presence by visiting with us for a while; the rest will take its due course.” The count remained seated for a moment and seemed to be considering what to do next. Thereafter rising and pushing back his chair – since he was hopeful, he said, and since his immediate departure might be taken as over-precipitous, and the family insisted upon a closer acquaintance, to which he had no objection, he would send the dispatches back to headquarters in Z . . . , for someone else to take, and would accept the family’s kind invitation to be a houseguest for a few weeks. Whereupon, still grasping the back of the chair, with his back to the wall, he stood there a moment and peered at the commandant. The latter replied that he would find it most regrettable if the feelings that the count appeared to have developed for his daughter were to be the cause of serious repercussions for him; that he must surely know what he had to do and not do, whether or not to send back the dispatches; and that the rooms would be made ready for him. With these words, a pallor falling over his face, the count respectfully kissed the mother’s hand, bowed to the others and left the room.

Upon his departure, the family had no idea what to make of this turn of events. The mother said that it was out of the question that he should send the military dispatches he was supposed to take to Naples back to Z . . . simply because he did not succeed in the course of a five-minute interview in eliciting a yes to his proposal of marriage from a woman he did not know. The forest warden declared that such a frivolous act would be punished by nothing less than his arrest. And his discharge, the commandant added.