His rough nature would not have harmonised with
Faustina's character; still less could he have understood and
appreciated a woman like Corona, who was indeed almost beyond the
comprehension of Giovanni, her own husband. San Giacinto was
almost a savage, compared with the young men of the class to which
he now belonged, and there was something wild and half-tamed in
Flavia Montevarchi which, had fascinated him from the first, and
held him by that side of his temperament by which alone savages
are governed.
Had the bringing of the suit been somewhat hastened it is not
impossible that San Giacinto and his wife might have driven up to
the ancient towers of Saracinesca on that Saturday afternoon, as
Giovanni and Corona had done on their wedding day two years and a
half earlier. As it was, they were to go out to Frascati to spend
a week in Montevarchi's villa, as the prince and princess and all
their married children had done before them.
"Eh! what a satisfaction!" exclaimed Flavia, with a sigh of relief
as the carriage rolled out of the deep archway under the palace.
Then she laughed a little and looked up at her husband out of the
corners of her bright black eyes, after which she produced a very
pretty silver scent-bottle which her mother had put into her hand
as a parting gift.
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