"I have been thinking a great deal about the story they told you in
London--of Roma's death and burial, I mean. Had you no reason to think
it might be false?"
"None whatever."
"It never occurred to you that it might be to anybody's advantage to say
that she was dead while she was still alive?"
"How could it? Who was to perpetrate a crime for the sake of the
daughter of a poor doctor in Soho--a poor prisoner in Elba?"
"Then it was not until afterward that you heard that the poor doctor was
a great prince?"
"Not until the night you were here before."
"And you had never heard anything of his daughter in the interval?"
"Once I had! It was on the same day, though. A man came here from London
on an infamous errand..."
"What was his name?"
"Charles Minghelli."
"What did he say?"
"He said Roma Roselli was not dead at all, but worse than dead--that she
had fallen into the hands of an evil man, and turned out badly."
"Did you ... did you believe that story?"
"Not one word of it! I called the man a liar, and flung him out of the
house."
"Then you ... you think ... if she is still living...."
"My Roma is a good woman."
Her face burned up to the roots of her hair. She choked with joy, she
choked with pain. His belief in her purity stifled her. She could not
speak now--she could not reveal herself. There was a moment of silence,
and then in a tremulous voice she said: "Will you not call me Roma, and try to think I am your little friend?"
When she came to herself after that she was back in her own apartment,
in her aunt's bedroom, and kissing the old lady's angular face. And the
Countess was breaking up the stupefaction of her enchantment with sighs
and tears and words of counsel.
"I only want you to preserve yourself for your proper destiny, Roma. You
are the fiancée of the Baron, as one might say, and the poor maniac
can't last long."
Before dressing for dinner Roma replied to the Minister:-
"DEAR BARON BONELLI,--Didn't I tell you that Minghelli would find
out nothing? I am now more than ever sure that the whole idea is
an error. Take my advice and drop it. Drop it! Drop it! I shall,
at all events!--Yours, "ROMA VOLONNA.