If you blame me, remember that it is for Gianluca, that he is my friend, that he knows nothing of my speaking to you, since you and I have met by chance, and that he is perhaps dying--dying for you, Donna Veronica." The girl's face was white and grave now, for Taquisara spoke in earnest.
"How dreadful!" she exclaimed.
Bianca turned her head, for she was not so much absorbed in her conversation with Ghisleri as not to have noticed that Veronica and Taquisara were speaking almost in whispers, which was strange conduct for a young girl with a mere acquaintance, to say the least of it.
"What is so dreadful ?" she asked, with a smile.
"Oh!--nothing," answered Veronica, glancing at her, and turning back instantly to Taquisara.
A shade of annoyance was in his face, and Veronica felt suddenly that this was the first real crisis in her life, and that she must hear all he had to say, to the end, at any cost of propriety.
"Come!" she said to Taquisara.
She rose as calmly as a married woman, many years older than she, might have done, and Taquisara was on his feet at the same moment.

She led the way down to the marble steps that descended to the sea, and stood on the uppermost one, looking out.

Bianca and Ghisleri watched her in surprise and Bianca made a slight movement, as though to follow, but then leaned back again.

There was then, and still is, a very strong feeling in Southern Italy against allowing a young girl to be out of earshot with a man.
Though Bianca and Veronica had been children, together, and there was little difference of age between them, Bianca felt that, as the married woman, she was responsible for the observance of social custom.

But in a moment she realized that Taquisara was talking of Gianluca, and that anything would be better than to allow Veronica to marry Bosio Macomer.
"I understand," she said to Ghisleri; "let them alone.