He stooped down and kissed her forehead.
"I will always trust you," he said, softly. "Tell me, dear one,
has this matter given you pain? Is it a secret that will trouble
you?"
"Not now," she answered, frankly.
Giovanni was in earnest when he promised to trust his wife. He
knew, better than any living man, how well worthy she was of his
utmost confidence, and he meant what he said. It must be confessed
that the situation was a trying one to a man of his temper, and
the depth of his love for Corona can be judged from the readiness
with which he consented to her concealing anything from him. Every
circumstance connected with what had happened that evening was
strange, and the conclusion, instead of elucidating the mystery,
only made it more mysterious still. His cousin's point-blank
declaration that Faustina and Gouache were in love was startling
to all his ideas and prejudices. He had seen Gouache kiss Corona's
hand in a corner of the drawing-room, a proceeding which he did
not wholly approve, though it was common enough. Then Gouache and
Faustina had disappeared. Then Faustina had been found, and to
facilitate the finding it had been necessary that Corona and
Gouache should leave the palace together at one o'clock in the
morning.
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