She guessed well enough that the girl was not really in love, but had yielded in a measure to the man's practised skill in love-making, but she was really anxious that the result should be permanent.
Beatrice was grateful to her for putting an end to the situation.

The young girl was pale and her bright eyes had suddenly grown tired and heavy.

She sat down beside her mother and shaded her brow against the lamp with her hand, while San Miniato went to give orders about returning.
"My dear child," said the Marchesa, "I am converted; it has been a delightful excursion; we have had an excellent dinner, and I am not at all tired.

I am sure you have given yourself quite as much trouble about it as San Miniato." Beatrice laughed nervously.
"There were a good many things to remember," she said, "but I wish there had been twice as many--it was so amusing to make out the list of all your little wants." "What a good daughter you are to me, my angel," sighed the Marchesa.
It was not often that she showed so much, affection.

Possibly she was rarely conscious of loving her child very much, and on the present occasion the emotion was not so overpowering as to have forced her to the expression of it, had she not seen the necessity for humouring the girl and restoring her normal good temper.