I leaned
forward with both elbows on the table, that I might lose no word of
the conversation. His reverence observed it. "Let me tell you," he
began again, "that both Countesses sent me forth to discover whether
the bridegroom be not in the country hereabouts. A lady wrote from
Rome that he left there some time ago." When he began about the
lady in Rome I blushed again. "Is your reverence acquainted with the
bridegroom?" I asked, in confusion. "No," replied the old gentleman;
"but they say he is a gay bird." "Oh, yes," said I, hastily, "a bird
that escapes as soon as it can from every cage, and sings gaily when
it regains its freedom." "And wanders about in foreign countries," the
old gentleman continued, composedly, "goes everywhere at night,
and sleeps on door-steps in the daytime." That vexed me extremely.
"Reverend sir," I exclaimed, with some heat, "you have been falsely
informed. The bridegroom is a slender, moral, promising youth, who has
been living in luxury in an old castle in Italy, and has associated
solely with Countesses, famous painters, and lady's-maids, who knows
perfectly well how to take care of his money, if he had any, who--"
"Come, come, I had no idea that you knew him so well," the divine here
interrupted me, laughing so heartily that he grew quite purple in the
face and the tears rolled down his cheeks. "But I heard," the girl
interposed, "that the bridegroom was a stout, very wealthy gentleman.
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