Dreamily Amalia continued to gaze at the
beloved guest's masterful brown forehead.
The children ran out into the garden; Marcolina had risen from the table
and was watching them through the open window. The Abbate had brought a
message from the Marchese Celsi, who proposed to call that evening, with
his wife, upon his dear friend Olivo.
"Excellent," said Olivo. "We shall have a pleasant game of cards in
honor of the Chevalier. I am expecting the two Ricardis; and Lorenzi is
also coming--the girls met him out riding this morning."
"Is he still here?" asked the Abbate. "A week ago I was told he had to
rejoin his regiment."
"I expect the Marchesa got him an extension of leave from the Colonel."
"I am surprised," interjected Casanova, "that any Mantuese officers can
get leave at present." He went on: "Two friends of mine, one from Mantua
and the other from Cremona, left last night with their regiments,
marching towards Milan."
"Has war broken out?" inquired Marcolina from the window. She had turned
round; her face betrayed nothing, but there was a slight quaver in her
voice which no one but Casanova noticed.
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