"
"For Paris? And then?"
"I go to Rome with my niece, Angela Sovrani,--she is in Paris
awaiting my arrival now."
"Ah! You must be very proud of your niece!" murmured the Archbishop
softly--"She is famous everywhere,--a great artist!--a wonderful
genius!"
"Angela paints well--yes," said the Cardinal quietly,--"But she has
still a great deal to learn. And she is unfortunately much more
alone now than she used to be,--her mother's death last year was a
terrible blow to her."
"Her mother was your sister?"
"My only sister," answered the Cardinal--"A good, sweet woman!--may
her soul rest in peace! Her character was never spoilt by the social
life she was compelled to lead. My brother-in-law, Prince Sovrani,
kept open house,--and all the gay world of Rome was accustomed to
flock thither; but now--since he has lost his wife, things have
changed very much,--sadness has taken the place of mirth,--and
Angela is very solitary."
"Is she not affianced to the celebrated Florian Varillo?"
A fleeting shadow of pain darkened the Cardinal's clear eyes.
"Yes. But she sees very little of him,--you know the strictness of
Roman etiquette in such matters. She sees little--and sometimes--so
I think--knows less.
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