Chapter XVII: Pleasant Receptions at the C---- Palace

As soon as they were seated in the carriage, Mrs. Chandos expressed almost hysterically her delight in having got away safely, and was rather surprised when Norah remarked that she was very glad that they went to the ball, and explained to her mother that it would be always easy to avoid the kind of annoyance she had been subjected to by the Duke’s forwardness; and she pointed out the pleasure which her father might derive from meeting some celebrated people in such an easy way as they were likely to do at Prince C----’s.

She was right, for during the next month of their sojourn in Rome, they saw a great deal of the best Roman society; for at Prince C----’s they met some relations of my mother’s, of the Spinola and Donati families, who, from scarcely mingling at all with the English, preserve the old Italian manner and customs more in their original state.

Norah was much surprised at the great contrast between the men and the ladies of these families, most of the gentlemen being well educated, and many, particularly the princes and monsignori, celebrated for their learning or genius; while the ladies, though very kind-hearted and good-natured, seemed extraordinarily ignorant. In fact, two of the lovely princesses could scarcely read or write, yet they did not seem to be annoyed by this comparatively unintellectual state, and fully enjoyed their _dolce far niente_.

Norah was particularly interested by a young cousin of my mother’s, Bianca Countess Donati. She was a lovely Neapolitan, and had married at sixteen a widower with a grown-up family. The marriage had been made up before she left the convent, or had even seen her intended.

Bianca had been well trained, and in some degree well educated; and it never occurred to her to make any objection, although she was somewhat disappointed in the appearance of her betrothed.

The Count Donati was a clever man, but bad-tempered, and inclined to be jealous; and his sons and daughters did not approve of his second marriage. So the young wife had not led a very happy life, and her chief comfort was derived from her own little child, a girl of five years old. She fancied that her own ignorance prevented her husband from enjoying her society as much as he seemed to do that of many of the English ladies, at parties to which she with her step-daughters was not invited.

Count Donati was not rich enough to entertain at home, but as he liked to go into general society, he compounded the matter by not taking his wife out with him. Norah found that Bianca was most desirous to acquire some knowledge, and very anxious to know how I, Constance Vivian, contrived to get on amongst English ladies with the different education she knew I had received in my youth at Sorrento.

Norah endeavoured to put her in the way of learning languages, and assisted her in the choice of books, as she was much touched at her wish to become more companionable to a husband who seemed so indifferent to her charms.

For in a degree she had the same charm which Norah herself possessed, and resembled her in her longing to attain a high standard of perfection, and in the charitable feeling with which she regarded the faults of others. Her husband was very intemperate in his language, and poor Bianca was often pained to see the impression his bad words made on her little girl.

Norah was amused and pleased one day when they were all walking on the Pincio with Bianca and her child, and her own little sister, to discover the original and touching expedient the Countess had thought of to counteract the effect, and yet to excuse the bad language of her husband in the mind of his little child.

Cattarina was walking with the children that day, and one of them did something which excited her bad temper, whereupon she began abusing the little fellow in bad language. Bianca’s little girl, overhearing the words, called out,

“Ah, quelle son parole cattive, non si devono dirli.”

Cattarina turned upon her with flashing eyes, and reminded the child that her own father often made use of such words.

“Ah, sì,” said the little thing, looking up at her with her large, melancholy eyes. “Ah sì, ma queste son parole che lui solo[A] puo dire; è padre mio, ed Iddio lo perdonera in lui, perche preghiamo sempre per lui.”

Cattarina had the bad taste to burst into a loud laugh, and led two of the children off to a distant part of the garden. Norah explained to the wondering Countess that she was only their travelling maid, who had been highly recommended, but she was evidently unfit to be their instructor in Italian, although she had a very good accent.

They afterwards found that Cattarina was quite one of the modern _liberali_, and had lost all faith in her own religion, and, acquiring no other, had fallen into total disbelief, or rather into the devil-worship expressed in some lines which have been praised in one of the leading English reviews, composed by a modern Italian poet!