For a moment she thought it must be Giovanni, for his father rarely entered her house, and when the old man's stalwart figure advanced towards her, she dropped her book in astonishment, and rose from her deep chair to meet him.

She was very pale, and there were dark rings under her eyes that spoke of pain and want of sleep.

She was so utterly different from Donna Tullia, whom he had just left, that the Prince was almost awed by her stateliness, and felt more than ever like a boy in a bad scrape.

Corona bowed rather coldly, but extended her hand, which the old gentleman raised to his lips respectfully, in the manner of the old school.
"I trust you are not exhausted after the ball ?" he began, not knowing what to say.
"Not in the least.

We did not stay late," replied Corona, secretly wondering why he had come.
"It was really magnificent," he answered.