There was really much directness of understanding and
purpose in her young character, together with a fair share of tenacity;
for, as Matilde had told Bosio, Veronica was a Serra, which was at least
equivalent to saying that she was not an insignificant person of weak
will and feeble intelligence. She was indeed the last of her name, but
the race had not decayed. It was by accident and by force of
circumstances that it had come to be represented by the solitary young
girl who sat reading a novel over her fire on that evening, caring very
little for the fact that she was a very great personage, related to many
royal families, a Grandee of Spain and a Princess of the Holy Roman
Empire, all in her own right alone, as Veronica Serra--all of which
advantages Taquisara had hastily recapitulated to her that morning. So
long as she should live, the race was certainly not extinct, nor worn
out; for she had as much vitality as all the tribe of the Spina family
taken together. She was not, indeed, conscious of her untried strength,
for she had never yet had any opportunity of using it; and in the matter
of the will, which was the only one that had yet arisen in which she
might have tried herself, she had yielded in the simple desire to get
rid of a perpetual importunity. Beyond that she had attached very little
importance to it. Her aunt might be miserly, but Veronica, in her youth
and health, could not think it even faintly probable that she should die
before the elder woman and leave the latter her fortune.
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