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"Ay, my father, it is like Marco to hear thee speak!"
"Then let him come and make thee Lady of the Giustiniani, like a true
knight!" exclaimed the old man fiercely.
"Ay, father, so would he; but I have told him that thou and I are not
less proud than those of his own house, and without their consent it may
not be."
"Nay, I care not for their house--only for thy happiness; he shall wed
thee, and my home is thine; I have enough for thee and him; he shall not
make thee suffer."
They were close together now, father and daughter--a beautiful group in
the yellow lamplight against the dark background that surrounded them
like an impassible fate; her face was a study of happiness, tenderness,
suffering, and strength; her father wrapped her close in his protecting
arms, and thus she could bear everything. They were silent for a while:
he trying to accept the revelation in its strangeness, she planning how
she should make him understand.
"I am glad thou knowest it, dear father," she said at length, very
softly.


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