His gait was not firm, and as he passed Bosio in order to reach the countess, he had an uncertain movement of head and hand, as though he were inclined to speak to him first.

Matilde had risen, however, and had moved a step forward to meet the visitor, speaking at the same time, as though to direct him to herself, with the somewhat maternal air which even young women sometimes assume in greeting old men.
The Duca della Spina smiled rather feebly as he took the outstretched hand, and slowly sat down upon the sofa beside Matilde.
"I feared it might be too late," he began, and his watery blue eyes sought her face anxiously.

"But my son insisted that I should come this evening, when he found that I had not been able to see you this afternoon." "How is he ?" asked the countess, suddenly assuming an expression of great concern.
"Eh! How he is! He is--so," answered the Duca, with a gesture which meant uncertainty.

"Signora Contessa," he added, "he is not well at all.
It is natural with the young.

It is passion.