It was the North that had made Italy, whereas the South, eager for the quarry, simply rushed upon the country, preyed upon it.

And beneath the anger of the old stricken hero of Italian unity there was indeed all the growing antagonism of the North towards the South--the North industrious, economical, shrewd in politics, enlightened, full of all the great modern ideas, and the South ignorant and idle, bent on enjoying life immediately, amidst childish disorder in action, and an empty show of fine sonorous words.
Stefana had begun to smile in a placid way while glancing at Pierre, who had approached the window.

"Oh, you say that, uncle," she responded; "but you love us well all the same, and more than once you have given me myself some good advice, for which I'm very thankful to you.

For instance, there's that affair of Attilio's--" She was alluding to her son, the lieutenant, and his love affair with Celia, the little Princess Buongiovanni, of which all the drawing-rooms, white and black alike, were talking.
"Attilio--that's another matter!" exclaimed Orlando.

"He and you are both of the same blood as myself, and it's wonderful how I see myself again in that fine fellow.