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pantomime, you know. We’re putting it on here for Christmas and I could do with some special effects.”
    The Duchess gave a sigh. Paolo looked at her rigid face and thought that it must be hard, dealing with someone like the Duke.
    The Duke dived on Domenico. “Can you arrange for a flight of cupids blowing trumpets?” he asked him eagerly. Domenico swallowedand managed to whisper the word “illusion.” “Oh good!” said the Duke, and dived at Angelica Petrocchi. “And you’ll love my collection of Punch and Judys,” he said. “I’ve got hundreds!”
    “How nice,” Angelica answered primly.
    “My lord,” said the Duchess, “these good people did not come here to discuss the theater.”
    “Maybe, maybe,” the Duke said, with an impatient, eager wave of his large hand. “But while they’re here, I might as well ask them about that too. Mightn’t I?” he said, diving at Old Niccolo.
    Old Niccolo showed great presence of mind. He smiled. “Of course, Your Grace. No trouble at all. After we’ve discussed the State business we came for, we shall be happy to take orders for any stage-effects you want.”
    “So will we,” said Guido Petrocchi, with a sour glance at the air over Old Niccolo.
    The Duchess smiled graciously at Old Niccolo for backing her up, which made Old Guido look sourer than ever, and fixed the Duke with a meaning look.
    It seemed to get through to the Duke at last. “Yes, yes,” he said. “Better get down to business. It’s like this, you see—”
    The Duchess interrupted, with a gentle fixed smile. “Refreshments are laid out in the small Conference Room. If you and the adults like to hold your discussion there, I will arrange something for the children here.”
    Guido Petrocchi saw a chance to get even with Old Niccolo. “Your Grace,” he barked stiffly, “my daughters are as loyal to Caprona as the rest of my house. I have no secrets from them.”
    The Duke flashed him a glistening smile. “Quite right! But they won’t be half as bored if they stay here, will they?”
    Quite suddenly, everyone except Paolo and Tonino and the twoPetrocchi girls was crowding away through another door behind the red hangings. The Duke leaned back, beaming. “I tell you what,” he said. “You must come to my pantomime, all of you. You’ll love it! I’ll send you tickets. Coming, Lucrezia.”
    The four children were left standing under the ceiling full of wrestling angels.
    After a moment, the Petrocchi girls walked to the chairs against the wall and sat down. Paolo and Tonino looked at one another. They marched to the chairs on the opposite side of the room and sat down there. It seemed a safe distance. From there, the Petrocchi girls were dark blurs with thin white legs and foxy blobs for heads.
    “I wish I’d brought my book,” said Tonino.
    They sat with their heels hooked into the rungs of their chairs, trying to feel patient. “I think the Duchess must be a saint,” said Paolo, “to be so patient with the Duke.”
    Tonino was surprised Paolo should think that. He knew the Duke did not behave much like a duke should, while the Duchess was every inch a duchess. But he was not sure it was right, the way she let them know how patient she was being. “Mother dashes about like that,” he said, “and Father doesn’t mind. It stops him looking worried.”
    “Father’s not a Duchess,” said Paolo.
    Tonino did not argue because, at that moment, two footmen appeared, pushing a most interesting trolley. Tonino’s mouth fell open. He had never seen so many cakes together in his life before. Across the room, there were black gaps in the faces of the Petrocchi girls. Evidently they had never seen so many cakes either. Tonino shut his mouth quickly and tried to look as if he saw such sights every day.
    The footmen served the Petrocchi girls first. They were very cool and seemed to take hours choosing. When the trolley was finally wheeled across to Paolo and Tonino, they found it hard to