"The good Cardinal is surely breaking up," he said carelessly, "He
looks extremely frail!"
"Young men sometimes break up before old ones!" returned the Prince
drily, "Felix is strong enough yet. You dine with us to-night?"
"If you permit--" said Varillo, with a graceful salutation.
"Oh, my permission does not matter'" said Sovrani eyeing him
narrowly, "Whatever gives pleasure to Angela must needs please me.
She is all that is left to me now in an exceedingly dull world. A
riverderci! At eight we dine."
Flonan nodded,--and took his departure, and the Prince for a moment
stood hesitating, looking at the great white covering on the wall
which concealed his daughter's mysterious work. His tall upright
figure stiff and sombre, looked as if cast in bronze in the half
light shed by the wood fire,--one lamp was still burning, and after
a pause he moved from his rigid attitude of gloomy consideration,
and extinguished it, then glancing round to see that all was in
order, he left the studio, closing its great oaken door behind him.
Five minutes after he had gone a soft step trod the polished floor,
and the young Manuel, holding a lighted taper, entered all alone.
The flame of the little torch he carried cast a soft golden glow
about him as he walked noiselessly through the great empty room, his
blue eyes lifted to the marble heads of gods and heroes which
occupied their different positions on the gilded and oaken brackets
set against the tapestried walls,--and presently he paused in front
of Angela's hidden work.
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