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He always
understood the young man to be a particular friend of the Duchess.
"These artistic people!" he thought. "They have quite another way of
looking at things. Dear me. I shall never live to understand them."
The two separated at the market-place without much reluctance on either
side.
During dinner, the Duchess was calm about her misfortune. She bore it
well. She had been vigorously consoled by Don Francesco, who pointed
out that such little things are trials of faith and that she ought to
be thankful for this opportunity of proving how little she cared for
earthly riches. While not exactly thankful, she was certainly as
resigned as anybody could have been. Angelina had already been taken
into grace again, at the charitable suggestion of the priest. Every one
was puzzling who the thief could be (it happened to be Mr. Richards);
the police had not discovered the faintest clue.
"It does not much matter if they do," said Don Francesco. "I don't
think, my dear lady, that you will get the judge to take up your case
very actively.


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