There were two oil lamps
burning on pillars outside the doorway, and their light glancing
on the Italian's face, as she passed under them, showed that she
was smiling.
CHAPTER II.
While the Marchesa Melani was making inquiries at the gate of the
palace, Fabio was sitting alone in the apartment which his wife
usually occupied when she was in health. It was her favorite
room, and had been prettily decorated, by her own desire, with
hangings in yellow satin and furniture of the same color. Fabio
was now waiting in it, to hear the report of the doctors after
their evening visit.
Although Maddalena Lomi had not been his first love, and although
he had married her under circumstances which are generally and
rightly considered to afford few chances of lasting happiness in
wedded life, still they had lived together through the one year
of their union tranquilly, if not fondly. She had molded herself
wisely to his peculiar humors, had made the most of his easy
disposition; and, when her quick temper had got the better of
her, had seldom hesitated in her cooler moments to acknowledge
that she had been wrong. She had been extravagant, it is true,
and had irritated him by fits of unreasonable jealousy; but these
were faults not to be thought of now. He could only remember that
she was the mother of his child, and that she lay ill but two
rooms away from him--dangerously ill, as the doctors had
unwillingly confessed on that very day.
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