Probably the likeness was
flattered. But Veronica did not think so just then, coming as she did
from a disillusionment which had affected her more strongly than she
knew. She compared Bosio with Gianluca, in appearance, and Gianluca
lacked almost everything which could bear comparison. She compared Bosio
with Taquisara, and she preferred the quiet refinement of the one to the
bold eyes and high aquiline features of the other. At least, she thought
so. But she also preferred Taquisara to Gianluca, by many degrees of
preference. Yet both these men were commonly spoken of as handsome.
She thought of another point, too, and with her blood it was natural
that she should think of it. If she married Bosio, he would take her
name and titles; not she, his. She would rule the house and be
independent--not of him, exactly, for she was fond of him and had no
desire to be despotic over him, but of parents and elders and relations
who would think it their right to advise and guide. All this would be
different with Gianluca for her husband. The Della Spina were proud of
their name and would expect her to bear it. They were numerous, too; the
old father and mother would oppress and burden her life, and the
brothers and sisters of Gianluca would grow up to be more or less of a
perpetual annoyance to their elder brother's wife. Of that side of life
her aunt had given her more than one picture, intentionally exaggerating
a little, perhaps, for her own purposes.
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