What she suffered in remaining in Naples, in going and coming through the familiar rooms, in spending her evenings in that room, of all others, in which she had last seen Bosio alive, no one knew.

She went about silently, and her face grew daily paler and thinner.

In her behaviour she was subdued and silent, though she treated Veronica with greater consideration than before.

They had never spoken together of the possible reasons for Bosio's death, but it had been publicly stated that he had been insane, and Matilde, to all appearances, accepted the explanation as sufficient.
It was made the more reasonable by the evident fact that Gregorio's mind was unsettled, and that he himself was in imminent danger of going mad.
That, at least, was the impression produced upon the household.
As the days went by, the gloom deepened in the Palazzo Macomer, and when the three met at their meals, or sat together for a short time in the evening, the silence was rarely broken.
At first, it was congenial to Veronica; for if her grief was not passionate nor destined to be everlasting, her sorrow was profoundly sincere.

It was the companionship of Bosio that she missed most keenly and constantly, through the long, empty hours.
No one who called was received during those first days.