Had the Marchese been an archbishop himself, instead of being merely the intimate friend of one, it could not have seemed in Ravenna more out of the question to mention his respected name in connection with any scandal or inuendo of the kind.
There was not a mother in Ravenna who would not have been proud to see her daughter honoured by any such intercourse with the Marchese as might be natural between a father and his child.

Proud indeed the most noble of those matrons would have been could she have supposed that any such intercourse tended towards sentiments of a more tender nature.

But all hopes of this kind had been long given up in Ravenna.

It was quite understood that the Marchese was not a marrying man.
Not that even now, in his fiftieth year, he might not well have entered the lists with many a younger man as a candidate for the favour of the sex.

He was a man of a remarkably fine presence, tall, well made, and with a natural dignity and graceful bearing in all his movements, which were very impressive.