AGATHA PAGE 
 
 ISAAC HENDERSON
 
 AGATHA PAGE 
 
 A PARABLE 
 
 OF CALIF. UBKABY, LOS AHGKLB
 
 33j t\)t Same &utjior. 
 
 THE PRELATE. 
 
 It recalls Nathaniel Hawthorne in his most vigorous time. 
 Quettc Chronicle. 
 
 A story of sustaining and absorbing interest, written in 
 clear and forcible English. Boston Courier. 
 
 One of the most successful and powerful novels that has 
 been printed in many a year. Bujfalo Commercial Aitver- 
 tii,r. 
 
 II n.lerson is the most promising novelist who. for many 
 a long day. has entered the field of fiction. ... It is an un- 
 usually good novel. Detroit i\rws. 
 
 An uncommonly dcvcr book. He exhibits unusual capac- 
 ity, a capacity lor individual work not less marked, and 
 scarcely less developed, than is shown by Mr. H. Marion 
 Crawford. Brooklyn Cni.-n. 
 
 One of the most celebrated of Roman critics and writers 
 says: " I awoke after the ball feeling disposed to take my 
 cotfee in bed. With the coffee I took your book. The 
 morning passed, and I still remained reading 'The Prelate. 
 Noon passed, and at one o'clock luncheon surprised me. 1 
 lasted it with the tray set on a pillow, my mind distracted 
 with suspense. At two o'clock I laid down the finished book 
 with a sigh. I am sure the book will have a success, and I do 
 not see where it can be criticised. It is written with quiet, 
 even fastidious good taste. The interest of the story is the 
 most perfect crescendo possible." 
 
 For sale fy all booksellers. Sent, post-paid, upon 
 receipt of price ($ i . 50). Ctittiloguesfree. 
 
 TICKNOR & CO., Boston.

 
 AGATHA PAGE 
 
 A PAKABLE 
 
 BY 
 
 ISAAC HENDERSON 
 
 AUTHOR OF " THE PRELATE " 
 
 FOURTH EDITION.
 
 Copyright, 1888, 
 Br TicKNoa AND COMPANT. 
 
 All rights reserved. 
 
 JOHN WILSON AMD Sou, CAMKIDGE, U.S.A
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAKT IKST. 
 
 CHAPTER PACE 
 
 I. IN THE BRIANZA 9 
 
 II. Two INTERVIEWS 25 
 
 III. NEIGHBORLY VISITS 37 
 
 IV. MERCEDE 45 
 
 V. MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS 61 
 
 VI. AT THE IRON GATE 72 
 
 VII. UNDERTONES 80 
 
 VIII. MADAME ANDRE 93 
 
 IX. AT THE VILLA D' ESTE 109 
 
 X. LUITELLO 124 
 
 XI. COMMUNICATIONS 138 
 
 XII. CONFIDENCES 151 
 
 XIII. " IL TRAMONTO " . 165 
 
 PAET SECOND. 
 
 I. AN INVITATION 175 
 
 II. A NINE DAYS' WONDER 181 
 
 III. A LITTLE LEAVEN 195 
 
 IV. A TETE-A-TETE 201 
 
 V. SMOULDERING FIRE . . . .... 211 
 
 2130167
 
 VI 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 VI. IN THE VILLA BORGHESE 216 
 
 VII. SOME PASSING FACTS 229 
 
 VIII. SHADOWS 237 
 
 IX. QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS 249 
 
 X. A SIGNAL OF DANGER 257 
 
 XI. "FIDELIO" 26G 
 
 XII. DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW 274 
 
 XIII. LOOKING NORTHWARD 284 
 
 XIV. JUNE DAYS 293 
 
 XV. SOMETHING OF A HERO 304 
 
 XVI. FRANCESCO'S FRIEND 313 
 
 XVII. IN THE GROVE 329 
 
 XVIII. THE VILLA LORENO 336 
 
 XIX. OLD ASSOCIATIONS 347 
 
 XX. A WOMAN'S PASSION 3GO 
 
 XXI. A WOMAN'S LOVE 374 
 
 XXII. "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE" . 392
 
 PAET FIRST.
 
 AGATHA PAGE, 
 
 A PARABLE. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 IN THE BRIANZA. 
 
 IN charming verse, one hundred years ago, the 
 poet Monti wrote of a villa in the Brianza, the 
 rich plain which has its beginning between the two 
 arms of the Lake of Como. The villa lay upon the 
 table-land above the town of Erba, and was now 
 (in the year of grace eighteen hundred and seventy- 
 eight) the property of the Duke Faviola of Rome, who 
 occupied it with his wife and young daughter during 
 the summer months. Like most Italian villas, the 
 house was of stucco painted white, and its lines were 
 symmetrical and stiff; but the grounds were beauti- 
 ful, and as worthy as ever of a poet's transport, the 
 mellow sunshine melting flower, cropped lawn, and 
 distant landscape into an exquisite mosaic. 
 
 The Duchess Costanza Faviola was seated in an 
 easy-chair upon the lawn, talking with a man a few 
 years her junior. Her merry eyes twinkled at the 
 slightest cause, and the finely-cut lips parted con-
 
 10 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 stantly, as though eager to smile. Yet she could be 
 as haughty as Juno when she chose. Her compan- 
 ion was her brother, the Marquis Loreno. He had 
 been in Berlin for five years as Charge d'affaires of 
 the Italian legation, and this was his first visit to 
 the villa, which the Duke had inherited two years 
 before. 
 
 Filippo Loreno was a manly, handsome fellow of 
 eight and twenty. His face, clean shaven, resolute, 
 and earnest, was of the old Roman type rather than 
 of the new. His eyes, large and gray, shone now 
 with unusual brightness, for he was indignant. 
 Some neighbors of the Duchess had lunched with 
 her that day, and while drinking their coffee upon 
 the lawn had indulged in intemperate gossip. The 
 Duchess had early noticed signs of growing indigna- 
 tion upon her brother's face, and knowing the im- 
 pulsiveness and directness of his nature, was rather 
 relieved than annoyed when she saw him rise, bow 
 ceremoniously to the group, and retire toward the 
 house ; nor did he come out again until she w;is 
 alone, and now she had playfully taken him to task 
 for his rudeness. He freely acknowledged his scant 
 courtesy, but his wrath against the visitors was in no 
 wise assuaged. 
 
 k> Why can't women enjoy themselves without 
 their incessant gossip?" he demanded. 
 
 11 Why can't men enjoy themselves without their 
 incessant politics ? " she replied. 
 
 " But you can't compare the two." 
 
 " Why not ? The only difference is, that a woman 
 slanders her friends and a man his opponents."
 
 7.V THE BRIANZA. 11 
 
 "But," he persisted, keeping his mind upon the true 
 inspiration of his protest, " if these friends of yours 
 really think so badly of the people they spoke of, why 
 do they keep them up ? But they do, and they will ! " 
 
 " Of course ; and that proves that you solemn men 
 take us too seriously." 
 
 " And what talk for those young girls to hear ! 
 It's monstrous ! " 
 
 " Ah, that 's another matter : now you speak like 
 a prophet." 
 
 The Marquis was a man of the world, above all, 
 of the Roman world ; yet his very soul would some- 
 times revolt against the hypocrisy which society 
 finds convenient, perhaps necessary. He did not 
 suppose it practicable for a woman of position to shut 
 her door against all men and women whose presence 
 was an affront to her home, but he had not yet ac- 
 quired that complacency which accepts without pro- 
 test what it cannot cure. He had lofty ideas about 
 consistency, and by these he occasionally measured 
 his associates, with the result which had now kindled 
 his righteous wrath. He knew that certain honor- 
 able women, whom he had that day heard confess 
 their knowledge of the dissolute characters of cer- 
 tain men, would to-morrow recognize these same men 
 publicly, or greet with a kiss some woman they had 
 to-day affected to despise ; he knew, moreover, that 
 others among these same virtuous critics were them- 
 selves just targets for the tongues of their sisters. 
 Yet many of these women were mothers with daugh- 
 ters to train, " from among which wise virgins," he 
 thought, " I am expected to choose a wife."
 
 12 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 He said nothing more, however, and the Duchess 
 was glad to let the subject drop. 
 
 " What time is it ? " she asked presently. 
 
 He looked at his watch. " Nearly four o'clock." 
 
 " Then I must leave you," she said, rising. " We 
 will dine a little later to-night. Good-by." 
 
 As she passed him she paused, and tapping him on 
 the shoulder with her fan said, " You don't know 
 much about women. I 'm curious to see the sort of 
 wife you '11 choose." 
 
 " I suppose I must eventually have a flower for my 
 button-hole," he replied ; " but I don't think I '11 
 choose from your bouquet." 
 
 She tapped him smartly across the ear for his im- 
 pertinence, and with a bright nod left him. 
 
 He was in no humor for reading, and lighting a 
 cigar decided to stroll over the hills as far as Alzate 
 and return by the high-road. Walking through the 
 long avenue of c}'press-trees to the entrance-gate, 
 he crossed the highway and began the ascent of a 
 range of low hills dotted with villas and hamlets 
 stretching toward Milan. He was a strong climber, 
 and soon reaching the top turned to enjoy the view. 
 Before him the shadows were lengthening on the 
 highlands beyond Erba, but the sunlight still bathed 
 the rich plain at his feet, bringing out every shade 
 of green, from the deep tint of the fir-trees to the 
 lighter shades of the mulberry and olive, while the 
 sterile rock-ribbed mountains that blocked the way 
 to the north made the wealth of the southern sweep 
 more striking. 
 
 " It 's the modern Eden for Eve's daughters I "
 
 JN THE BRIANZA. 13 
 
 he exclaimed half aloud, as he turned to pursue his 
 way. 
 
 The country was generally open and the walking 
 easy, so he made rapid progress. At length he came 
 to a chestnut-grove, and after noting his course en- 
 tered it. Presently he paused and listened to a dis- 
 tant sound, but in a moment went on again. The 
 brisk exercise, the soft breeze, and the liquid notes 
 of the nightingales along his way, calmed his nervous 
 mood, and he acknowledged that he had often before 
 heard, without even a mental protest, criticism quite 
 as bitter as that which had offended him to-day. 
 
 " Yet with every allowance," he declared, " time 
 given to such society is wasted, and I '11 keep away 
 from Costanza's neighbors as much as I can. The 
 fact is, I don't interest them and they don't interest 
 me. The men are absorbed in the women, and the 
 women are like so many sparrows, who feed, plume 
 themselves, and chatter." 
 
 He stopped again and scanned the woods to his 
 right. He thought he heard a soft strain of music ; 
 but the breeze rustled the leaves and the sound was 
 lost, so he went on. Soon, however, it reached him 
 distinctly, rising falling and again almost inaudi- 
 ble. He was passionately fond of music, and stood 
 listening until the gentle strain died away ; then 
 he pushed on again, until suddenly, quite near him, 
 a violin lifted its voice in the opening phrase of a 
 nocturne. He could hear every note distinctly, and 
 critical as he was, the player's skill charmed him. 
 
 " How exquisite ! " he exclaimed, his interest ex- 
 cited, and the possibility of unearthing a second
 
 14 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Paginini occurring to his mind. " The musician is 
 evidently just above me. I '11 have a look at him." 
 
 He changed his course, and after a few steps 
 found himself at the upper edge of the wood, along 
 which ran a strip of meadow about twenty yards in 
 width, skirted by a high gray wall overgrown with 
 moss and vines. To his left it formed an abrupt 
 angle on the edge of a steep incline, and to the right, 
 as far as his eye could follow, there seemed to be no 
 opening. He stood gazing at this barrier undecided 
 what to do, when the touch of the bow upon the 
 violin and the low sound of a man's voice reached 
 him. 
 
 " He 's just over the wall," thought the Marquis ; 
 and he again scrutinized it closely, feeling a strange 
 confidence in his power to look upon the player in 
 spite of it. 
 
 He was seldom daunted when pursuing a purpose, 
 either serious or trivial, and in the end he usually 
 succeeded. Some persons called him lucky, others 
 believed him uncommonly clever. He never thought 
 about the fact, but like an Alpine climber was only 
 stimulated by difficulty, and seldom looked back. 
 With such natures high purpose usually brings rare 
 results ; but Loreno as yet had no high purpose, and 
 was in consequence merely wilful. Anything he 
 wished to possess he grasped at. If it were out of 
 his reach he moved nearer : sometimes this was diffi- 
 cult, but he moved nearer all the same. 
 
 Therefore, as his clear gray eye scanned the wall, 
 he became more interested than ever in his search, 
 and more determined than ever to succeed. Had uo
 
 IN THE BRIANZA. 15 
 
 other method presented itself, he would in all proba- 
 bility have scaled the wall (for he had already meas- 
 ured it with his glance) ; but his "luck" served him 
 and made the way clear. 
 
 A dozen yards below, near a thick growth of ivy 
 upon the wall, some cattle were grazing, and Loreno's 
 quick eye saw an ox catch the vine upon one of his 
 horns. 
 
 " The ivy in that spot does n't grow against the 
 wall," he said to himself; and going quickly forward 
 he discovered that the vine was a mere screen for a 
 gate formed of iron bars. 
 
 Through great oaks that cast long shadows upon a 
 velvet lawn he caught a glimpse of a spacious park, 
 and upon a distant plateau he could see the upper 
 part of a large villa. Sloping down from the house 
 were terraces of flowers and stretches of woodland 
 leading gently to the gate at which he stood. Within 
 the shade of a tree near him a silver-haired priest 
 was seated upon a rustic bench, his fine pale face 
 upturned in rapt attention to that of a young girl 
 who stood before him in the full splendor of the 
 golden sunlight, playing upon a violin. 
 
 Her form was tall and slender, and her dress was 
 white. Her golden hair fairly romped over the well- 
 poised head, escaping from two demure bands of 
 velvet which tried their best to hold it ; some daring 
 tresses even dancing down the forehead to catch a 
 glimpse of the deep-blue eyes beneath, then turning 
 aside to scamper down the neck and join the flowing 
 mass that swept around the farther shoulder and 
 hid itself under her violin. The face, while im-
 
 16 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 mature, was eloquent of latent strength. The re- 
 flective eyes, the delicate nostrils, the arched lips, 
 the round firm chin, told an observant eye that had 
 this girl lived in ancient Rome, she would have stood 
 in the arena undaunted in her faith. 
 
 She played with much feeling, sometimes swaying 
 with the rhythm, or again inclining her head toward 
 the instrument until her cheek seemed to caress it ; 
 but now her bow scarcely touched the strings as 
 the tone grew fainter and fainter, and when it died 
 away the player looked down upon the silent violin 
 as a mother gazes at her sleeping child. 
 
 With a quick motion she dropped her bow to her 
 side and turned toward the priest. 
 
 " Can't you praise me even a little ? " she asked. 
 
 The old man, his face glowing with satisfaction, 
 put out his hand to her. She ran forward impul- 
 sively and dropped on her knees beside him. 
 
 " That 's the dear old hand that began it," she 
 said, stroking the white fingers. " Now tell me if 
 I 've improved." 
 
 " Wonderfully ! " 
 
 " Are you proud of me?" and the upturned e} T es 
 looked very bright and happy. 
 
 " Even Tagliani, great master that he is, has n't 
 many such pupils, I '11 venture to say ! " 
 
 She was about to protest, sincerely enough, but 
 caught herself in time. " Very few of his pupils 
 come from such a master as I had." 
 
 "Nonsense ! " 
 
 But she saw how pleased he was. Rising, she 
 seated herself beside him, still holding his hand.
 
 IN THE BRIANZA. 17 
 
 " Tagliani said I already had a good tone when I 
 first played to him ; but did n't I write you that from 
 Rome?" 
 
 " Yes, child, yes. But I did n't teach you your 
 tone ; it was God's gift." 
 
 " You can't deny that you improved it," she said 
 decidedly. 
 
 He held up his hand deprecatingly, his kind eyes 
 grave. 
 
 " Caro Padre ! I 'm always shocking you. I 'm 
 very sorry," and she looked into his face penitently. 
 " But," she added quickly, " you have n't told me 
 how you like my new violin." 
 
 " It 's a fine instrument ; indeed, I 've seldom 
 heard one so good." 
 
 "It has n't so lovely a tone as yours, but perhaps 
 it is more brilliant." 
 
 " It 's altogether a different thing," and he shook 
 his finger at her hypocrisy. " Mine was cheap and 
 served its purpose well, but this is fit for the bow 
 of an artist ; " and he examined it with admiration, 
 lightly touching the strings. 
 
 " Play something," she pleaded. 
 
 " I ? My playing would sound very tame after 
 the artists you have been hearing in Rome." 
 
 " Your playing sound tame to me ? Never ! You 
 play much more to my heart than Tagliani, or any 
 one else. Do try something." 
 
 In spite of his absurd nervousness at the presence 
 of his former pupil, Padre Sacconi played uncom- 
 monly well. As the young girl watched him her 
 thoughts flew back to the first lesson she had taken 
 
 2
 
 18 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 from him four years before on that same spot. It 
 was also on a day in May, and he had stood before 
 her, as now, his tall form erect, his long hair shak- 
 ing about his neck, his brown eyes glowing with the 
 fervor of his work. 
 
 " Bravo!" she cried, as the priest lowered his bow. 
 " I never enjoyed your playing more." 
 
 Unusually excited by his performance, the old man 
 examined the violin with a tenderness that did not 
 escape the notice of his watchful companion. 
 
 "It's marvellous!" he said, as if to himself. "I 
 never knew an instrument so responsive, so really 
 sympathetic." He stepped toward the young girl 
 and held out her treasure. " Many thanks, my 
 child ; it has given me true joy." 
 
 "I hope it may often do so but not enough to 
 make me jealous of it." 
 
 " Thank you," he replied. " Then I may use it 
 sometimes? " 
 
 " Always for my sake ; " and stooping she picked 
 up the case and held it out to him, pointing to a 
 silver plate bearing an inscription. 
 
 He looked at it soberly, and read the words 
 
 "TO PADRE GIOVANNI SACCONI, 
 
 FROM HIS GRATEFUL rth'IL 
 AGATIIA PAGE.'' 
 
 His eyes were raised to hers, then sought the in- 
 strument; drawing her head nearer, he kissed the 
 fair forehead gently, then looked again at his violin. 
 Patting it, he said huskily, " I '11 love it chiefly for 
 thy sake Agatha."
 
 IN THE BRIANZA. 19 
 
 A few moments later the old priest locked the iron 
 gate behind him and walked down a path which the 
 Marquis had discovered as he turned away. It was a 
 short cut to a little hamlet at the foot of the hill, 
 and Padre Sacconi, who had been the priest of the 
 village for twenty years, often used it when he went 
 to see Agatha or her uncle, the Count Ricci, who 
 owned the villa. 
 
 The Count's sister had married an American named 
 Page, who was at the time of his marriage in the 
 diplomatic service at Rome. When Agatha, their 
 only child, was four years old, her father died, and 
 seven years later she lost her mother; whereupon 
 the Count, for love of his sister and from a sense of 
 duty as the child's guardian, took Agatha to his own 
 home. His daughter Mercede, two years Agatha's 
 senior, was at a convent, but in obedience to his 
 sister's instructions the Count had Agatha educated 
 at home. Thus the cousins saw but little of each 
 other until Mercede's seventeenth year, when she 
 returned to Rome. While the kind Italian made no 
 difference in his demonstration of love toward them, 
 his heart inclined much more tenderly toward his 
 own child, not only because of the closer tie, but 
 because he understood her character better. His 
 raven-haired, black-eyed daughter, impulsive and 
 often wilful, belonged to a type with which he was 
 familiar. He could comprehend her moods (and they 
 varied from ecstasy to sullenness), because her mother 
 had possessed the same temperament; and he glo- 
 ried in her warm Southern nature. Even when 
 she sometimes became jealous of Agatha he appre-
 
 20 AGATHA PAGE, 
 
 ciated her suffering and comforted her wisely, or 
 if she disregarded his commands he understood her 
 and was lenient. Agatha was calmer, stranger, far- 
 ther away ; more lovely of disposition certainly, and 
 in her way quite as interesting, " but," he would say 
 with swelling pride, " not so Italian ! " 
 
 When one evening his beautiful daughter, leaning 
 upon his arm, made her entrance into society, he felt 
 that no father had ever juster reason for satisfaction 
 and high expectation. Nor was he disappointed in 
 the reception accorded Mercede. Her dark beauty 
 and exuberance of spirit, won her many admirers, 
 and within two months the Duke Bramante broached 
 the subject of a union between the two families. No 
 alliance possible to his adored child could have been 
 more agreeable to the Count ; but he was not yet 
 prepared to lose her, and smilingly bade his good 
 friend be patient, for his daughter was very young. 
 
 In the mean time, however, a young officer, dashing 
 but poor, made love to Mercede under the very eyes 
 of her father and aunts, whose minds failed to grasp 
 the possibility of her making an independent choice. 
 But she did so, and at last a dim suspicion of the fact 
 was forced upon the Count, who questioned her about 
 it, although without serious misgiving. She boldly 
 avowed her love for the lieutenant and her determi- 
 nation to marry him. Pleading was of no avail ; in- 
 deed, nothing served to shake her decision, and the 
 old aunts could conceive of no better plan than the 
 ancient one. Therefore by their advice, and in de- 
 spair at Mercede's obstinacy, the Count decided to 
 send his child away from Rome for a long visit.
 
 IN THE BRIANZA. 21 
 
 In three weeks he received a despatch telling him 
 that Mercede had run away ; and a week later a 
 letter from her announced that she was the lieuten- 
 ant's happy wife. The tone of this letter showed 
 plainly her immaturity and her confidence of speedy 
 forgiveness. 
 
 But she had not measured her father well. His 
 love was indeed great, but so were his pride, his 
 ambition, and his sense of authority ; no one of 
 which was so powerful as his love, but the union of 
 which guided his action in this crisis. He did not 
 answer her letter. 
 
 Beside all else, his heart was sorely bruised by his 
 daughter's disloyalty. He had always supposed she 
 must needs be persuaded to marry ; that his love and 
 protection constituted her chief happiness : the sud- 
 den disillusion shocked him severely, awakening a 
 feeling of resentment toward her and of jealousy 
 toward her husband ; and with the intensity of his 
 Southern nature he became as bitter as he had before 
 been doting. "When, therefore, Agatha attempted to 
 plead in Mercede's behalf, he told her sternly to be 
 silent, and never again to mention the name of her 
 cousin in his presence. 
 
 Thus it was that the impecunious lieutenant waited 
 in vain for the dowry which he daily expected would 
 be given his bride with the parental blessing; and 
 although the religious ceremony was performed, the 
 civil marriage which by Italian law cannot be con- 
 tracted by an officer unless the bride possess a cer- 
 tain capital was indefinitely postponed. 
 
 Mercede, however, did not mourn seriously; she
 
 22 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 believed that her father's anger would burn itself 
 out, and her Ernesto told her that if worse came 
 to worst, he would some day inherit enough money 
 to give her the requisite dowry, and then the second 
 ceremony could be performed. 
 
 " But, after all," said he, "what is the civil mar- 
 riage ? A mere form in compliance with an arbitrary 
 law of recent date. The essential service that 
 which truly unites a man and a woman is already 
 accomplished, and you hold a certificate duly signed 
 by the priest who performed it." 
 
 Thus he reassured her, while she waited patiently 
 for time to bring back both her beloved father and 
 her accustomed luxury. 
 
 Month succeeded month, and still the Count re- 
 mained obdurate. Finally came the news that 
 Mercede had a son, and Agatha ventured to tell 
 the grandfather. If he felt any emotion, he hid it. 
 Facing Agatha, he said coldly : " You had no right to 
 speak of this subject ; have my wishes no weight with 
 you either?" Then he left the room, and for the rest 
 of that day remained in his own apartment. 
 
 It had been the lieutenant's custom to keep 
 Mercede near him in his changes of station, and 
 his marriage was only officially a secret. He pro- 
 vided her with a modest home, and she took her 
 position as in all respects his true and lawful 
 wife. There were only two drawbacks to their 
 otherwise smooth life: one was Mercede's unbal- 
 anced temperament, and the other a lack of money. . 
 Mercede at first had lived in an ecstasy of bliss, 
 and her new joy, combined with a certain awe in
 
 IN THE BRIANZA. 23 
 
 which she held her idol, enabled her to control the 
 variable moods which later, swinging backward and 
 forward, often led her from beatitude to misery. 
 She had never known until now what it was to 
 need money, and inevitable anxiety regarding the 
 common necessaries of life had a marked effect upon 
 her. 
 
 Instead of their financial state growing more com- 
 fortable, as the lieutenant often predicted that it 
 would, each year it became more straitened ; and cer- 
 tain loans which Mercede was induced to make from 
 Agatha, under the illusion that at quarter-day the 
 lieutenant would be able to repay them, now repre- 
 sented an amount equal to her husband's pay for a 
 year. 
 
 Mercede never understood where all this money 
 went to ; but she handed it to the lieutenant, who 
 kept the accounts, and whose technical explanations 
 only served to confound her. She economized as 
 closely as she could both upon herself and the child, 
 and anxiously awaited the day when this dreadful 
 load of debt might begin to be reduced. 
 
 Suddenly the truth was made known to her. 
 Her husband was a gambler ; and his pay, together 
 with Agatha's remittances, had been lost at baccarat, 
 while creditors besieged their home from every side. 
 The effect upon so intemperate a nature as Mer- 
 cede's was sure to be serious. Outraged and full of 
 scorn, she followed the first surging impulse that 
 flowed over her. Taking her child, she left the home 
 which she felt no longer belonged to her, and wrote 
 bidding the lieutenant sell its contents and pay what
 
 24 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 debts he could, and not to hope for her return until 
 all were cancelled. She took a room near by and 
 began publicly to support herself by sewing and teach- 
 ing. This open disgrace was more than her husband 
 could stand, and he went to see her. Mercede was 
 unbending, and a stormy interview ensued. At last 
 she ordered him to go, and when he refused she left 
 the room. 
 
 Desperate, and with the purpose of bringing her to 
 terms, he took her marriage certificate and departed, 
 and when a few days later he was ordered to Como 
 he took the paper with him, leaving her to come to 
 her senses ; but she continued obstinate, and by 
 means of the work given her by sympathetic friends, 
 managed to keep out of debt. She had not, however, 
 the heart to write to Agatha, with whom she had 
 until now kept up a weekly correspondence ; and it 
 was of this strange silence that the latter was think- 
 ing as she sat under the oak-tree after Padre Sacconi 
 had departed with his precious gift under his arm.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 TWO INTERVIEWS. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the Marquis Loreno was commonly 
 accounted impulsive, he succeeded, not only during 
 dinner, but afterward while smoking with the Duke, 
 in restraining an impulse which had taken strong 
 hold upon him. He did not approach the subject 
 which engrossed his mind, but talked with the Duke 
 about his three hobbies ; namely, hunting, New Guinea, 
 and his daughter Gaeta, who was now twelve years 
 of age. 
 
 The Duke was a tall, broad-shouldered man of five 
 and forty. He wore a long black beard which, to- 
 gether with heavy eyebrows above a pair of keen 
 black eyes, gave him a somewhat ferocious appear- 
 ance, and strangers passing him often looked a second 
 time at the striking figure, with everything black 
 about it except a bit of collar and warm olive skin 
 beneath the crushed felt hat. 
 
 Early in life he had gone to New Guinea on an 
 exploring expedition, which had won him distinction. 
 Since his marriage he had curbed his love of adven- 
 ture ; but occasionally he would don his hunting-suit 
 and with his dog and his gun wander about the great 
 Campagna for several days. He was a very silent 
 man, yet his silence was not oppressive, for it seemed
 
 26 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 to fit his personality, and when he chose to speak he 
 spoke well ; but he did not refer to his adventures 
 except upon rare occasions and at his own fireside. 
 Other hunters, however, told wonderful tales of his 
 indifference to danger and exposure, and gave ample 
 testimony to his force of will and remarkable prowess 
 with his rifle. 
 
 When they muffled themselves in great-coats to 
 keep out the biting cold, and protected their faces 
 from the brambles by thick visors, they would some- 
 times be startled by the sudden appearance of the 
 stalwart Duke his soft hat pushed back from his 
 torn face, his hunting-coat unbuttoned, and his breast 
 bared to the air, as he stalked rapidly along, bearing 
 lightly his trusty weapon, and followed by his tired 
 dog. 
 
 An accidental witness testified that once when he 
 was challenged by three brigands in one of the 
 wildest parts of the Campagna, he haughtily fired his 
 rifle into the air and then dared them to molest him. 
 The bravado of the act was disconcerting, and as he 
 dashed at them with his gun clubbed, two of them 
 fled incontinently, and only the third fired upon him. 
 But the fellow's aim was hasty, and ere he could es- 
 cape he was in the clutch of the thoroughly aroused 
 giant, who dashed him to the ground, spurned him 
 with his foot, broke his gun like a reed, and only 
 pausing to recover his own weapon, walked uncon- 
 cernedly away. 
 
 Yet this same nature could be swayed by that of 
 little Gaeta with a certainty and force that were 
 almost pathetic. He would listen to her words with
 
 TWO INTERVIEWS. 27 
 
 the deepest interest as she poured out her sorrows 
 and joys. He was proud of his wife, but he adored 
 the child, and the two seemed to form his world. 
 He had a hearty liking for Loreno, and showed it 
 by occasionally relaxing his habit of silence and per- 
 mitting himself to be drawn into conversation by him, 
 as in the present instance. 
 
 Soon, however, the father and daughter went off to- 
 gether, and then Loreno lost no time in approaching 
 the subject which engrossed him. 
 
 " Whose villa is that, Costanza," he asked, turning 
 to his sister nonchalantly, "higher up the ridge, about 
 three kilometres beyond here ? It is directly above 
 the church with a tower." 
 
 *' I suppose you mean the Count Ricci's." 
 
 " Yes, that 's the name ; " and in reply to her 
 quick glance of surprise, he added, " I remember 
 asking some one this afternoon. Don't you know 
 the Count"?" 
 
 " Yes, quite well." 
 
 ' ; But I 've not seen him here." 
 
 " Very likely ; his wife died some years ago, and 
 he seldom goes anywhere. I have almost given up 
 asking him." 
 
 " He has a daughter, has n't he ? " 
 
 Yes, surely you must have heard about her ; 
 she ran away with a lieutenant." 
 
 "Indeed! is that the Ricci?" and his face fell. 
 " I presume, then, that the daughter has repented and 
 come home again." 
 
 " Not that I have heard ; is there such a report?" 
 
 " I don't know anything about it except," and
 
 28 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 he avoided her gaze, " that I happened to see a 
 young girl there to-day." 
 
 " You did ? I did n't know that you knew them." 
 
 " I don't ; only while walking over the hill near 
 the Count's villa I heard the sound of a violin coming 
 from the grounds, and my curiosity prompted me to 
 look through a gate in the wall, and I saw a young 
 girl playing to an old priest." 
 
 She folded her hands in her lap and regarded him 
 quizzically. 
 
 " Oh, did you. And now that same curiosity 
 impels you to come to me to find out all about her." 
 She laughed softly, adding, " You are not very skilful 
 in such matters ; directness is much more in your line." 
 
 " Do you think it's the daughter? " he asked. 
 
 " How should I know ? " 
 
 " Has the Count any other daughter ? " 
 
 " I won't tell you." 
 
 " Answer that question, at least." 
 
 " No, he has not." 
 
 He waited, hoping she would continue, but she re- 
 mained silent. This was an occasion when he would 
 not have run away from a little gossip. 
 
 " You don't think she has left her husband ? " he 
 asked presently. 
 
 She laughed quietly. " I doubt it." 
 
 His face fell, and he seemed to be musing. " Per- 
 haps her father is reconciled to him," he suggested. 
 
 " I doubt that also I " 
 
 And so she parried his questions until, tired of 
 chuffing him, she told him who it was he had seen, 
 and related Agatha's history.
 
 TWO INTERVIEWS. 29 
 
 " The poor child," she added, " goes nowhere. 
 Her uncle has no heart for society, so she devotes 
 herself to her violin. She is charming, and I have 
 her at luncheon occasionally ; although were she not 
 charming I should invite her as a charity." 
 
 " Invite her to-morrow, and include me as a char- 
 ity," he exclaimed. 
 
 She laughed lightly, and sat toying with her cup of 
 coffee. 
 
 Her hesitation gave him the clew to her thought. 
 " You don't relish the responsibility," he said. 
 " Well, I don't deny that she interests me." 
 
 " Shall I tell you frankly how I feel about it? " 
 
 " By all means." 
 
 " Miss Page is very sincere, as well as lovely, while 
 you are lovely but not so sincere. I ought to know ; 
 I 've watched you often enough." 
 
 He looked amused. " And what do you make out 
 of me ? " he inquired. 
 
 " If a thing interests you it 's your nature to go 
 close and have a good look at it, just as a child would. 
 This principle was well enough while you were a 
 child, but when as a man you apply your habit to 
 susceptible young women, it 's misleading ; and when, 
 having satisfied your curiosity, you calmly turn away, 
 you seem to forget that their young hearts are not 
 made of wood or china, and that what is to you a 
 mere episode may be their " 
 
 " Last straw, poor things ! " he interrupted. " But 
 this is different, really it is, and after such a warning 
 you may trust me." 
 
 "That's the strangest part of it all," she said
 
 30 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 helplessly. " I do you the justice to believe that you 
 don't realize what a flirt you are, and that you are 
 innocent of most of the hearts you 've broken ; but I 
 can't tell Miss Page that, and I don't wish to put her 
 at a disadvantage." 
 
 He laughed quietly. "I'm awfully sorry about 
 myself," he said; "but can't you keep an eye upon 
 me, and whenever I begin to flirt strike your table- 
 bell ? It might also put her on her guard." 
 
 At first the Duchess was obdurate ; but he urged 
 her so earnestly that at last she began to yield, and 
 before they parted he won her to his wish, and she 
 agreed to invite her young neighbor to luncheon 
 during the week. 
 
 The next morning, as Agatha was arranging some 
 flowers upon the breakfast-table, the mail was brought 
 in, and she hurriedly tore open an envelope addressed 
 in Mercede's handwriting. As she read the letter 
 her color grew faint. The Count's footstep sounded 
 upon the stairs, and bidding the servant tell her uncle 
 not to wait breakfast for her, she hastened from the 
 room. Going into the air, she crossed the lawn, and 
 entering a deeply-shaded path went to an arbor where 
 she felt comparatively safe from interruption. Draw- 
 ing the letter from her pocket, she eagerly read the 
 remainder of it, and then sat pondering, her hands in 
 her lap, her eyes fixed upon the distant landscape. 
 The breeze caught the paper and it fluttered to the 
 ground. Aroused by the act of recovering it, she 
 sighed and slowly re-read it. 
 
 It ran as follows :
 
 TWO INTERVIEWS. 31 
 
 MY DEAREST AGATHA, In my alarm I turn to you. 
 My husband disgraced himself and me, and I left his 
 house. He came to my rooms and begged me to return, 
 but I refused and left him alone. Afterward I discovered 
 that my writing-desk, which was in the room with him, had 
 been forced open. I don't know why, but I instantly 
 thought of nry marriage certificate. It was gone ! Yet 
 it was there, for I remember such a sickly fool was I 
 yesterda}' ! I remember kissing it. 
 
 I am certain he took the paper, but for what purpose ? 
 Agatha, I beg of 3'ou to think for me. If you can reassure 
 me, do so ; if not, then help me. 
 
 The civil marriage was never performed never mind 
 why ; we are dealing with the present. I telegraphed 
 to him instantly, and just now a trifling reply has come 
 addressed to my maiden name. Agatha, I fear serious 
 trouble is near. In the disgrace my father put upon me 
 my husband sustained me ; but if he is gone, to whom 
 can I look? My husband is at Como, and Erba is so 
 near that perhaps Padre Sacconi would go and talk with 
 him. He must give me back my certificate. Think it 
 all over, Agatha, and telegraph me something, for I am 
 almost wild. 
 
 MERCEDE. 
 
 Agatha raised her head, and looking through the 
 long vista of over-arching trees that edged the path 
 to the brow of the hill, gazed upon a distant moun- 
 tain tipped with snow. 
 
 "As well ask Padre Sacconi to melt that snow 
 with words," she said. " What that scoundrel needs 
 is a visit from Mercede's father. He might bring 
 him to his senses." 
 
 She sat and revolved many plans having this
 
 32 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 purpose, and at last arose with the decision that she 
 would seek her uncle. 
 
 Walking rapidly in the direction of the house, she 
 reached the edge of the lawn, and pausing looked 
 toward a palm-tree where the Count often had his 
 easy-chair placed in the morning, while he smoked 
 his cigar and talked with the head gardener. She 
 saw him, and fortunately he was alone. 
 
 The Count was sixty years of age, and a stranger 
 glancing at his gray mustache and decided face 
 would probably have taken him to be a soldier. In- 
 deed, there was much of the military in the Count, 
 that is, much that is popularly associated with a 
 soldier's character ; but having determined this, one 
 would have decided further that he was accustoned 
 to a general's plume. 
 
 " Good-morning," he said as she approached ; " I 
 fear you are not well." 
 
 " Perfectly, only I " and she paused. 
 
 His eyes twinkled as he added, " Only you ! So 
 long as you can come back and say ' Only I,' Padre 
 Sacconi may remain your sole confidant. Now give 
 me my morning kiss." 
 
 She laid her hand in the one he held out to her, 
 and bending down kissed him lovingly. She dreaded 
 to speak, yet felt that the moment was opportune, 
 and that there was danger to Mercede in delay. 
 
 The General patted the hand he still held, and 
 looking into her face smiled kindly. As he noted 
 the seriousness of its lines and the gravity of her 
 eyes, his own expression changed, and he regarded 
 her with more attention.
 
 TWO INTERVIEWS. 33 
 
 *' Uncle " she began. 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 She tried again, but her throat was parched and 
 her voice failed her. 
 
 She was frightened at her position. The General, 
 unsuspecting, was looking at her sympathetically, 
 and she was on the point of dealing him a blow the 
 result of which she could not foretell. Was it 
 necessary? In any event, would it not be better 
 to get Padre Sacconi's opinion before taking such 
 responsibility ? 
 
 She looked into the kind eyes raised to hers, and 
 tried to smile and gain time for thought. But sud- 
 denly Mercede's position came sternly to her, sweep- 
 ing away indecision as death devours hope. 
 
 " Uncle," she said clearly, " Uncle," and she 
 clasped his hand tightly, " I fear I must make you 
 terribly unhappy ! " 
 
 He half turned and searched her face with sudden 
 dread. The old love for his Mercede welled up and 
 overwhelmed all bitterness for the moment, and he 
 could not control his trembling. 
 
 " Is she dead?" 
 
 Agatha looked upon his quivering lips and could 
 not answer. 
 
 "Is she? Is she?" 
 
 How dare she tell him worse than this ! She shook 
 her head without speaking. But it was enough ; Mer- 
 cede lived, and his terror passed. Dropping back into 
 his chair, his gaze remained fixed but less strained. 
 His child was not dead. He could bear anything else. 
 
 3
 
 34 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Agatha felt that this moment of reaction was the 
 moment of his greatest strength, and she hastened to 
 speak. 
 
 " He has left her ! " 
 
 The soldier's expression did not change for fully 
 a minute as he eyed Agatha and smoked rapidly. 
 But gradually and painfully he comprehended ; 
 then he swung his chair away a little and laughed 
 scornfully. 
 
 " Deserted his wife, has he ? " he said in a quiet 
 voice, " deserted the Count Ricci's daughter ; it 's 
 perfect ! " 
 
 " There is something worse." 
 
 " Ah ! something worse, is there ? What else has 
 my son-in-law done to annoy his wife besides desert- 
 ing her?" 
 
 Agatha moved a little that she might see his face 
 and if possible soften the blow. 
 
 " He has deceived her," she began ; " he never 
 
 " Deceived her ! " he exclaimed, turning suddenly. 
 " How ? Was n't that letter hers ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 "Then she was married, for my daughter was 
 never a liar. Had he another wife ? " 
 
 " No ; but the civil marriage was never " 
 
 " Agatha ! " and his eyes blazed. 
 
 " Here is her letter ; will you read it? " 
 
 As she held it out he looked at it but did not take 
 it. While he hesitated she anxiously watched his 
 eyes, as their expression changed slowly from eager- 
 ness to indecision and then to haughtiness. 
 
 " No," he said.
 
 TWO INTERVIEWS. 35 
 
 She dropped the letter upon the table helplessly, 
 while tears filled her eyes. 
 
 " Then what can she do ? " 
 
 The words were spontaneous, but they could not 
 have been better chosen. They appealed to the ob- 
 stinate man as no pleading or upbraiding could have 
 done. They were simple and graphic, and they went 
 straight to their mark, touching both his manliness 
 and his pride. 
 
 He arose and paced back and forth, while the bit- 
 terness that had controlled him during the past few 
 years battled with the emotions Mercede's position 
 had awakened. 
 
 At last, reaching out his hand, he took the letter 
 and walked firmly to the house. 
 
 An hour later Agatha sat in the broad corridor at 
 the foot of the stairs, listening to the footsteps of her 
 uncle as he paced his room. How closely connected 
 with the human drama is a measured tread ! 
 
 As the clock struck the half hour after ten, the 
 Count rang for his valet and ordered the dog-cart 
 to be brought at once. In a few minutes he came 
 slowly down the stairs, and as the strong light from a 
 window fell upon his face Agatha's heart throbbed 
 with pity. He had evidently suffered much since 
 she had last seen him. His manner was unnaturally 
 deliberate and formal, and the expression of his eyes 
 was cold. 
 
 " I am going to Como," he said quietly. 
 
 " I am sure it is best," was her reply. 
 
 " Then I am going to Mercede, and so is he."
 
 36 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Agatha was thinking rapidly but said nothing, and 
 presently he added, 
 
 " After the civil marriage I will send Mercede to 
 Rome." 
 
 The carriage was announced, and while waiting for 
 his overcoat to be brought he lit a cigarette and 
 smoked calmly. 
 
 Agatha walked with him to the carriage, and as he 
 bent and kissed her she found courage to speak. 
 
 " Suppose he objects?" she said. 
 
 The Count raised his eyebrows slightly and con- 
 tinued to pull on his gloves as he replied quietly, 
 
 " He and I will settle our relations before we go 
 to Mercede. Those once settled he won't object to 
 anything! " 
 
 She was silent again, while he mounted to his place 
 and gathered up the reins. 
 
 " I hope he won't give you much trouble," she 
 sighed anxiously. 
 
 The General showed animation for the first time. 
 He turned quickly and his eyes grew bright. 
 
 " Don't imagine," he exclaimed, u because a girl 
 once trifled with me, that now a man may ! " He 
 struck his horse savagely and it sprang forward.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 NEIGHBORLY VISITS. 
 
 WHEN Filippo made his bow to Agatha before 
 luncheon a few days later, he was glad that her face 
 fulfilled the measure of his expectation. 
 
 44 Miss Page is a neighbor of mine," said the 
 Duchess, diplomatically. 
 
 44 1 know that she is," was his astonishing reply. 
 
 44 Yes ? " and although her tone was neutral her 
 face betrayed some vexation. 
 
 " Yes," he continued in answer to Agatha's look 
 of inquiry ; 44 1 saw you, Signorina, the other day 
 playing the violin to an old priest. I have felt ever 
 since that I behaved rather shabbily, and I am glad 
 of this chance to apologize." 
 
 44 Where were you ? " she asked, and as he hesi- 
 tated the expressive eyes opened wider. In truth, 
 he was not thinking of her question, but of the liquid 
 quality of her voice. 
 
 44 1 beg your pardon," he said presently ; 44 1 was 
 walking up the that is it was through a little 
 iron gate in the wall." He actually showed em- 
 barrassment, to the delight of the Duchess. 
 
 " It was the day on which I arrived from Rome," 
 she said simply, " and I was trying a new violin with
 
 38 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Padre Sacconi, who was my first master; did you 
 listen long ? " 
 
 " That 's just it," he replied ; " I am ashamed to 
 say I lingered much longer than was necessary." 
 
 Her face grew bright. " Then you saw his pleas- 
 ure perhaps ? " 
 
 " Yes, I did ; " and there was marked deference in 
 his manner as he added, " the whole thing touched 
 me very much." 
 
 " Was n't he sweet about it ? " she said. 
 
 " His happiness and gratitude were certainly as 
 sincere as could be." 
 
 " Yes, it also made me very happy ; " and she gave 
 a little sigh of contentment. 
 
 " I don't wonder ! " and as the Duchess noticed 
 his tone and eyes she maliciously struck her bell. 
 
 The footman came, so she asked him if the Duke 
 had returned. 
 
 " Has lie gone out, Signora ?" 
 
 " That 's what I wish to know," she replied ; " how- 
 ever, let us have luncheon as soon as possible." 
 
 Filippo had sometimes believed that he was be- 
 coming blase". The novels of Matilda Serao, Daudet, 
 and others, which his friends discussed with enthu- 
 siasm, awakened in him only a languid interest, 
 and he was conscious of preferring the society of 
 his sister, to whom he was devotedly attached, to 
 that of any younger woman. He still enjoyed the 
 companionship of children, and he and his little niece 
 Gaeta were great friends ; but this fact he regarded 
 as additional evidence that he had drifted unscathed 
 through the rapids in which most of his companions
 
 NEIGHBORLY VISITS. 39 
 
 had lost their identity. He believed the reason of 
 this to be that he was exceptionally impervious to the 
 influence of feminine charms. 
 
 But the young stoic had not been in Agatha's 
 presence fifteen minutes when he found his eyes con- 
 stantly seeking her face ; and at luncheon, as a ray of 
 sunshine fell across her hair, revealing its gold, lie 
 was betrayed into an undisguised stare, that caused 
 the young visitor to flush slightly, arid presently her 
 hand stole over her locks to discover if one of them 
 had escaped. 
 
 After luncheon the Duke excused himself and, 
 as usual, disappeared with Gaeta. The Duchess 
 watched them affectionately until they were out 
 of sight, and then proposed a stroll to the coffee- 
 house, a suggestion which Loreno warmly seconded. 
 Although Agatha's slender figure and erect carnage 
 made her appear tall, Filippo stood well above her 
 as he walked at her side past the flower-beds and 
 across the lawn. 
 
 " They make a striking couple," thought the 
 Duchess. 
 
 When they reached the coffee-house, a picturesque 
 little building overhanging the valley, the Duchess 
 seated herself on a bench upon the veranda, while 
 Agatha and Loreno went on a few yards farther 
 to a wall upon the brow of the hill, leaning upon 
 which they gazed at the peaceful scene far below. 
 Presently the sound of children's voices floated 
 up to them, and Filippo saw his companion's face 
 brighten. 
 
 " You are fond of children," he said.
 
 40 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Yes, of course ; and the children about here are 
 such pretty little things." 
 
 " Everything connected with this place seems 
 especially lovely to you, I suppose." 
 
 " I am very fond of it all, for I live here fully half 
 the year." 
 
 " I begin to think I also might become very fond 
 of it." 
 
 She turned and looked at him with frank pleasure. 
 " I 'm glad to hear you say that, for I take a personal 
 pride in the place. Just look at the plain as it 
 sweeps far off toward the south like a great green 
 sea ! Does n't it appear to be broken into waves by 
 the breeze from those rugged old mountains at the 
 head of the valley ? Then see those two little lakes 
 that seem to be looking right up at us, the blue 
 eyes of the Brianza, I call them, and those towers 
 and steeples on the horizon ! I suppose they are mere 
 silhouettes to you, but I know each one intimately. 
 And see that picturesque old monastery up there to 
 our right, that building with the square campanile 
 on the hill toward Como ; and beyond the hill see 
 that distant bank of white, like clouds : it is the Alps. 
 Isn't it beautiful? Do you wonder that I delight 
 in it?" 
 
 " Indeed I do not ! " he responded heartily. 
 
 He had watched her with growing interest and 
 pleasure, and as her enthusiasm had tempted her out 
 of her quiet of manner and speech, his .admiration 
 had been squarely challenged. The Duchess smiled 
 quietly at his absorbed interest, and began to think she 
 had no need to waste sympathy on her little neighbor.
 
 NEIGHBORLY VISITS. 41 
 
 Filippo glanced toward his sister but did not no- 
 tice her amusement, for he was looking beyond her 
 at the lawn, and contrasting the women he last met 
 there with this lovely girl. 
 
 " I was unjust to Costanza," he thought ; " for she 
 has some neighbors who interest me." 
 
 The following day a dog-cart drove up to the 
 Villa Ricci, and Loreno left cards for the Count and 
 his niece. While driving back through a grove of 
 chestnuts that lay between the house and the lodge 
 he came face to face with Agatha and Padre Sacconi. 
 The young girl had been visiting a sick woman in 
 the village, and the priest meeting her had walked 
 home with her by the high-road.' 
 
 Loreno pulled up, and throwing the reins to the 
 groom sprang out. 
 
 " Good-morning," he said ; " have you been for a 
 walk?" 
 
 Agatha held out her hand. " Only a short one," 
 she replied. "Padre Sacconi, let me present the 
 Marquis Loreno. This is the gentleman who at- 
 tended our matine'e." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said the priest, heartily ; " then, Mar- 
 chese, you are fortunate, for we are exclusive. But 
 you must have been very quiet." 
 
 " A young peasant in my part of the country," he 
 replied, "chanced one day upon a maid who was 
 painting the reflection of the clouds upon the glassy 
 surface of a stream. Fascinated by her charms, the 
 youth drew nearer and nearer until he stood almost 
 at her side. Turning quickly, the fair artist saw him
 
 42 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 and instantly disappeared. Nor did he ever look 
 upon her again, although he hovered near the same 
 spot day after day until at last he became mad 
 through lamenting the folly which had cost him the 
 vision of an angel." 
 
 The priest smiled. "Well answered," he said, 
 pronouncing his words deliberately. "And you. 
 profiting by your neighbor's experience, win the 
 chance of turning a pretty compliment. From your 
 accent I judge you to be Roman." 
 
 " So I am, though I have a villa near Varese and 
 am very fond of Lombardy." 
 
 Padre Sacconi believed Lombardy to be the love- 
 liest spot in the world, and this sentiment of Loreno's 
 confirmed the favorable impression which his frank 
 face and easy bearing had already made upon the 
 old man. 
 
 " Yes," he said in reply, " God has indeed blessed 
 Lombardy without stint. And so you prefer our 
 northern lakes to the stretches of sea around Naples ? 
 So do I. Sorrento, Castellammare, and the rest are 
 charming for a time, but I always rejoice to get back 
 to these quiet scenes." 
 
 " Won't you return to the house ? " asked Agatha, 
 turning to Loreno. " I regret that my uncle is away 
 from home, but Padre Sacconi will represent him. I 
 have promised to give the Padre a granita, and per- 
 haps you will join us." 
 
 Filippo expressed his pleasure, and Agatha led the 
 way. She turned into various paths winding through 
 the venerable grove, until suddenly they reached a 
 circular opening, no larger than a room of moderate
 
 NEIGHBORLY VISITS. 43 
 
 size, containing a table and arm-chairs carved out of 
 granite. From this little resting-place the path ran on 
 with gradual ascent through a dense arbor of holly. 
 Peering up the long vista framed by this arbor, Loreno 
 discovered a flight of steps rising lazily until only a 
 distant spot of light marked the level of the terrace 
 to which they led. 
 
 Entering the arbor, they walked slowly to the 
 steps, having mounted which the} 7 emerged upon the 
 green terrace dotted with spreading palms and mag- 
 nolia-trees. 
 
 Loreno looked about him with interest. The ter- 
 race was large and nearly square. In front of him 
 was the house, on one side were green-houses, on 
 the other a row of old oak-trees, while in the centre 
 a fountain of clear water cooled the air. Under a 
 palm stood a table and two or three wicker chairs, 
 to which Agatha led them. 
 
 As she walked toward the house Filippo followed 
 her with his eyes, and when she disappeared he cast 
 an observant glance at her home. 
 
 "It's a comfortable-looking house," he said to 
 himself, " and that ivy is rather an English touch. 
 I wonder which room is hers? Probably the one 
 with the flowers in the window and the blue curtain- 
 ribbons." 
 
 The fact that he had a companion flashed into his 
 mind, and thereupon by way of conversation he asked 
 his opinion concerning the attitude of the Vatican 
 towards Germany. 
 
 Agatha presently came across the lawn followed 
 by a servant bearing ices, and stood behind the chair
 
 44 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 of the priest listening to his final words. She loved 
 at such times to watch his face brighten under the 
 influence of his thought. As she heard him speaking 
 of European politics, quite unconscious of Loreuo's 
 intimate knowledge of the subject, she glanced fur- 
 tively at the young Marquis. She saw only serious 
 attention, and was glad ; for she was inclined to like 
 him, and it would have offended her had he appeared 
 indifferent to the opinions of one for whom she felt 
 such respect.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MERCEDE. 
 
 As the days passed by and Count Ricci neither 
 came home nor wrote, Agatha grew more and more 
 anxious. She longed to write to Mercede for news, 
 but the silence of her uncle, as well as his continued 
 absence, convinced her that serious and absorbing 
 measures were in progress, into which mere eager- 
 ness for information had no right to intrude. 
 
 On one point her mind dwelt constantly, with 
 varying hope and misgiving, and that was upon the 
 question of Mercede's return to Erba. 
 
 She was confident that the love between the Count 
 and his child had not been seriously weakened by 
 their estrangement. She could not believe that the 
 Count's bitterness could withstand the presence of 
 his daughter and her child, nor could she doubt that 
 Mercede's pride would be subdued by this evidence 
 of her father's affection. Even if the Count should 
 succeed in having the civil marriage performed, 
 Agatha did not believe that her high-spirited cousin 
 would consent to remain with a husband she must 
 despise, nor did she believe that the Count or the 
 lieutenant himself would favor such an adjustment 
 of the matter. Therefore Mercede would be thrown
 
 46 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 upon her father's protection, and where would he 
 so naturally bring her, and where would Mercede's 
 heart so naturally turn, as back to her old home ? 
 
 In this hope Agatha caused her cousin's former 
 room to be set in order, and prepared an adjoining 
 room for the child. Each morning she had them 
 opened to the sunshine, and with her own hands 
 placed flowers about them. It was with keen ex- 
 pectation, therefore, that one night she received a 
 telegram sent by the Count from Rome announc- 
 ing his return on the following day. The telegram 
 said nothing about Mercede ; but this fact did 
 not discourage her, and she caused the same prep- 
 arations as before to be made for her cousin's 
 return. 
 
 At the appointed time the Count arrived, but he 
 was alone. 
 
 Agatha welcomed him at the door and tried to 
 hide her disappointment. He stepped out of the 
 carriage heavily, seeming tired and worn ; yet his 
 face was calm, and she concluded that he had been 
 successful. He went immediately to his study, where 
 she followed him. Laying a paper upon the table, 
 he looked' into her eager face and said quietly, 
 
 " That is Mercede's marriage certificate. She is in 
 Home with her child." 
 
 " I hoped you would change your mind and bring 
 them home with you." 
 
 "No," he replied, "not here, at least, not 
 
 yet." 
 
 His tone as well as his words led her to hope that 
 his feeling toward Mercede was less bitter, and she
 
 MERCEDE. 47 
 
 was more than ever at a loss to understand their 
 continued estrangement. 
 
 But it was not so difficult to understand, even 
 theoretically ; indeed, a less charitable mind would 
 quickly have fathomed the reason. 
 
 The Count's determination to obtain justice for 
 Mercede had not been prompted entirely by quick- 
 ened love, since a few moments' reflection had shown 
 him that unless she were made a legal wife her dis- 
 grace would fall upon his name. Yet his heart was 
 wrung by her misery ; and had she shown ample pen- 
 itence and made it easy to reconcile proper regard 
 for his outraged authority with full forgiveness, he 
 would have welcomed the chance of restoring her 
 to the old place both in his heart and home. But 
 Mercede was morally unable to appreciate the ex- 
 tent of her wrong-doing. She had never been taught 
 that she actually owed consideration to either duty 
 or authority. She failed, except in a feeble and sen- 
 timental way, to recognize that she had any obliga- 
 tion to others. She knew that she had disappointed 
 her father in regard to her marriage, and at first re- 
 gretted the depth of the wound she had inflicted ; 
 but she soon began to think that he was nursing his 
 hurt, and as weeks went by she decided that he was 
 sulking, and at her expense. His quick response to 
 the news of her disgrace did not touch her heart, for 
 she reasoned, correctly enough, that no father would 
 be inactive when the honor of his child was at stake. 
 She loved him deeply, however ; and had he given 
 ample evidence of the regret she believed he must 
 feel when he learned what she had suffered, and
 
 48 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 when he looked upon the grandchild he had ignored, 
 she would have been disposed to meet him part way, 
 and make such acknowledgment as was consistent 
 with her notions of her own self-respect. 
 
 Is it strange, therefore, that they did not renew 
 the old relation ? In the beginning each waited for 
 the other, and as the days passed, each stubborn heart 
 justified itself at the expense of the other, while love, 
 rebuked, shrouded its face. 
 
 Agatha, divining little of all this, longed to hear 
 something of his visit and of Mercede ; but she waited 
 for her uncle to speak. 
 
 He stood by the table with his hand upon the 
 paper and seemed lost in thought. Presently he 
 placed the certificate within his safe, which he closed 
 and locked. 
 
 " Have you any news for me ? " he asked, with 
 assumed spirit, seating himself upon the lounge. 
 
 " Nothing of importance ; every one is well ; I 
 have some letters for you ; Padre Sacconi has been 
 here almost every day, and Oh yes, I have a piece 
 of news, after all ! " 
 
 He tried to appear interested. 
 
 " Yes, and what is it?" he asked. 
 
 " I have a card for you, left by the Marquis Loreno." 
 
 His interest became more genuine. 
 
 " I met him at the Villa Faviola and he called the 
 next day." 
 
 " The Marquis Loreno, indeed ! I have heard of 
 him," he paused, and she waited with fixed gaze, 
 "favorably. How were you impressed?" 
 
 " Padre Sacconi and I liked him."
 
 MERCEDE. 49 
 
 " Oh ! Come sit here and tell me about it. Was 
 Padre Sacconi at the Duke Faviola's ? " 
 
 " No he that is, we met the Marquis after he 
 had left cards here." 
 
 " And the Marquis came back with you? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " And the Padre and you talked him over after- 
 ward?" 
 
 " Yes, we spoke of him the next day." 
 
 He smiled slightly. " Then the gentlemen left 
 together the day before ? " 
 
 "Yes, they did; but how could you know this? " 
 
 " Did the Padre think the young Marquis hand- 
 some ? " 
 
 " Yes that is, he said he was fine-looking and 
 intelligent." 
 
 " And have you usually found the Padre's taste 
 good ? " 
 
 She hesitated and flushed slightly. 
 
 " I don't remember ever having asked him before." 
 
 " Was your own opinion so uncertain that you 
 needed the priest's?" 
 
 She glanced up quickly and caught a merry twinkle 
 in the Count's eye. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle," she exclaimed, " what a shame to 
 make fun of me ! " 
 
 He passed his arm around her and kissed her fore- 
 head. " When do you expect to see this young man 
 again ? " he asked. 
 
 " Never ! now don't try to tease me any more. I 
 really did n't talk to him much ; he and Padre Sacconi 
 seemed to take a great fancy to each other." 
 
 4
 
 50 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 *' If he likes old men, possibly I may interest 
 him ; may induce him to come here occasionally, 
 and even " 
 
 " Please, stop ! " her tone was quite serious, 
 "he isn't just the sort of man to joke about. But 
 you don't think I was silly in speaking about him to 
 Padre Sacconi, do you ? " 
 
 " Not at all, my child ; not at all," he said. " Al- 
 ways speak your thoughts honestly and be your 
 simple transparent self." 
 
 He stroked her fine hair, and each remained quiet 
 for some moments. Presently the old man sighed. 
 She believed he was thinking of the child he had so 
 often caressed in the same way, and she yearned to 
 profit by the moment and speak of her. 
 
 " Uncle," she began gently, " why did you bring 
 me to your home when I was alone ? " 
 
 " Because I pitied you, and you were my sister's 
 child," he answered unsuspiciously. 
 
 " You pitied me because I was alone ? " 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " And protected me because I was your niece ? " 
 
 " Naturally." 
 
 " Would you do it now? " 
 
 " Now I would do it for your own sweet sake." 
 
 " Uncle ! " she leaned forward and gazed wistfully 
 into his face, " some one else is alone and has sad 
 need of you. Some one else No, dear Uncle, don't 
 leave me ; don't be angry ; you just told me to speak 
 my thoughts honestly. Mercede is the same old Mer- 
 cede. She has the same intense love for you, the 
 same pride in your name. She has been misled, but
 
 ME R CEDE, 51 
 
 what of it ? Can't you forgive a mere girl a senti- 
 mental folly? You know what you have suffered; 
 she can't have suffered less. I feel sure that she 
 longs to come home and that you long to have her 
 back. It should be so ; nothing is right as it is. 
 Every one is unhappy, and there seerns to be no 
 reason for it." 
 
 As he listened he was swayed alternately by pride 
 and self-condemnation. His was an arbitrary nature, 
 and false shame taught him that to relent was weak. 
 Therefore, while his heart yearned for Mercede, he 
 nevertheless sought to justify the position he had 
 taken. She had given no token of repentance, so he 
 told himself, and how could any one reasonably ask 
 him to restore her to her old place ? But why should 
 he be called upon to discuss the matter, much less to 
 justify himself? His reasons were his own, and he 
 had given Agatha plainly to understand that he de- 
 sired to have the subject dismissed. That she should 
 now attempt to stir it up again and unsettle his mind, 
 produced a feeling of sudden irritation which over- 
 shadowed all other considerations. He turned indig- 
 nantly and looked her full in the eye. 
 
 Had she faltered he would have reproved her 
 sharply for her temerity, but her gaze was as steady 
 as his. The issue was simple and sharp. He in- 
 tended to bury the subject here and now ; she would 
 not permit it. It was a conflict of will, and hers was 
 the stronger. Although his eyes remained fixed upon 
 hers, his lips were dumb. 
 
 The decisive moment passed, leaving her the victor. 
 
 Yet he could not yield without making terras ; few
 
 52 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 men can. The young girl whose calm eyes were 
 searching his did not fathom his mental process ; 
 she merely felt keenly and trusted her intuitions. 
 Something told her that she had won, but she believed 
 it due to his innate goodness. He also knew that the 
 victory was hers, but he sought solace for his pride 
 in capitulation. 
 
 " I should have been better pleased," he said, " had 
 you let this subject rest for the present. It has ab- 
 sorbed me for some days and I am tired of it." 
 
 " Then don't let us speak of it any more to-day," 
 she replied. " But may I write to Mercede and give 
 her your love ? " 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " And would there be any harm in my saying that 
 I'm dying to see her, and that she mustn't stay in 
 Rome too long?" 
 
 "I don't know that there would." 
 
 " And that you also want her ? " 
 
 At another time her persistency might have irri- 
 tated him ; but having yielded what he had, to yield 
 the rest was easy, for his heart leaped at the thought 
 of again having his child. As Agatha folded her 
 hands around his arm and looked into his face like an 
 angel of mercy, his pent-up love and his manliness 
 responded to her silent plea and swept away the 
 remnant of his pride. 
 
 " Tell Mercede I want her," he exclaimed, in a 
 broken voice. " Tell her to come home ! " 
 
 Mercede sat in her old home, after an absence of 
 five years, reading her cousin's letter.
 
 MERCEDE. 53 
 
 The palace was one which had been in her father's 
 family for generations, and did not differ essentially 
 from the majority of solid old structures which contain 
 the homes of the Roman aristocracy. It was built of 
 brick and stone around a large paved court. The 
 stairs were high and imposing, and at every landing 
 an ancient and mutilated bust seemed either to appeal 
 for a merciful judgment upon its deformity, or to bear 
 its suffering in the jaunty spirit of its compatriot 
 Mucius. 
 
 The rooms of the Ricci apartment were large, and 
 furnished in rather sombre colors. There was an air of 
 dignity, or better, of seriousness, pervading the place, 
 which, judging from the portraits distributed along 
 the panelled walls, was characteristic of the Count's 
 family. The room in which Mercede sat was what 
 had formerly been her sitting-room, and its warm 
 color made a rich setting to her dark beauty. 
 
 She was a typical Roman in the first years of wo- 
 manhood, with full figure, thick coils of black hair, 
 fine eyes and teeth, rich color, and possessing by na- 
 ture the rapidity and range of expression of a finished 
 actress. 
 
 The letter affected her in quite a different way 
 from that which Agatha had anticipated. 
 
 " The erring child may return, may she ? " was her 
 bitter exclamation. " Turned off for years because 
 she preferred to choose her own husband, and only 
 invited to resume her rights when she must return 
 without him ! No, sir ! your daughter has some of 
 her honored father's pride, and will send you a mes- 
 sage that will open your eyes."
 
 54 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Her unhappiness, especially during the past two 
 weeks, had worn sadly upon her nerves, and the 
 letter excited her unduly. She felt this, and strug- 
 gled to be calmer. She tried to read ; to amuse her 
 boy ; to sew ; but it was useless. She could not 
 banish thought, and soon abandoned herself to the 
 bitterness which possessed her. 
 
 " Think of it ! " she exclaimed passionately. "I 
 a Ricci am one of your women to be pitied. Per 
 Dio ! " and springing to her feet, she paced the room, 
 uttering her scorn audibly from time to time. " Even 
 my father receives me as a Magdalen, so what need 
 I expect from the rest of the world ? Yet I don't 
 blame them. They judge according to their standard, 
 and," she added, laughing bitterly, "my marriage 
 can't be called dazzling." 
 
 She threw open the window to get air, and stood 
 for a moment looking into the street. 
 
 " Come, Francesco," she said, " let us go out. 
 Mamma needs to walk." 
 
 The child had been quietly watching some fish in a 
 globe upon the table, quite unmindful of her excite- 
 ment, to which he had grown accustomed during the 
 past year. 
 
 They walked aimlessly but rapidly until, at last, 
 her passion was cooled, and being near the Ponte 
 Sisto she yielded to the child's wish to go upon the 
 bridge and see the boats. 
 
 They stood for some time on the footway, watch- 
 ing the dredging of the river. 
 
 "What are they doing, mamma?" asked the child. 
 
 " Digging up the clay."
 
 MERCEDE. 55 
 
 " What for ? " 
 
 " To make the river deeper." 
 
 " What is clay ? " 
 
 " Clay ? It 's damp earth." 
 
 " What do they do with it ? " 
 
 " Oh, they make marbles for little boys to play 
 with, and pipes ; and some men make pretty figures 
 with it." 
 
 " Figures, what are they like ? " 
 
 " Why, they are shapes ; some are little boys just 
 like you." 
 
 "I should like so much to have one to play with!" 
 exclaimed the child. " Won't you get me one, 
 mamma? " 
 
 " You don't understand yet, caro mio ; you are too 
 young." 
 
 " But I '11 try to understand if you '11 get me one. 
 Can't you make them ? " 
 
 Mercede smiled slightly, but suddenly grew serious. 
 
 A train of thought had been awakened which, 
 although interesting, made no strong impression at 
 first. In her childhood she had shown cleverness 
 at modelling in clay and wax ; and without other 
 instruction than that gained by repeated visits to 
 the galleries of sculpture, she continued to improve, 
 until, during the year before her marriage, she had 
 made several busts which gave evidence of decided 
 talent. During the bitter experience following her 
 marriage she had had no inclination for such work, 
 and later she was engrossed in earning food each day 
 for her child and herself. She recalled and reviewed 
 these facts, and the more she dwelt upon them the
 
 56 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 more intent she became, until her thoughts, gliding 
 swiftly and uncontrolled, left the past and swept for- 
 ward, and presently a sigh of regret was stifled by an 
 exclamation of wonder. 
 
 The child looked up. " What is it, mamma ? " 
 " Hush, dear ; mamma wishes to think ! " 
 If she could do something with her talent, what 
 then? was the question she kept asking herself. 
 And now her mental vision eagerly scanned the path 
 her thought had taken, until her head grew hot and 
 dizzy. It seemed to her that a way had suddenly 
 been illumined, which afforded her a chance of es- 
 cape from the hopeless misery of her present life. 
 Her position was indeed insupportable. Her disgrace 
 was already an open secret, and in the autumn would 
 be public property. Everywhere she showed her face 
 she would be pointed at with disrespect, and her story 
 would be whispered from one to another, while her 
 old associates would regard her either with pity or a 
 sneer she cared not which, for the thought of one 
 was as galling as the other. She could not go to her 
 father, for even he offered her a home as though it 
 were a refuge. She had her dowry now, on which 
 both Francesco and she could live comfortably, but 
 where could she live happily? Where could she live 
 with any hope except that after many years, when 
 both she and her story had become musty, her pre- 
 sence might be tolerated by a few good-hearted 
 friends ? 
 
 But, on the other hand, suppose she should leave 
 Rome and cultivate her talent? Even if she failed, 
 she would lose nothing, for her time had no value.
 
 ME R CEDE. 57 
 
 Indeed, she would even then have gained a respite 
 from her unceasing despair, and though the result 
 were disappointment she could not be sadder than 
 now. 
 
 But suppose she should succeed ? Suppose she 
 should even be able to return to Rome some day, no 
 matter how far away, when her talent might turn 
 pity and sneering into acclamation ? Was this not 
 an object worth striving for ? Was this chance, even 
 though desperate, to be thrown away ? Having once 
 nurtured the thought, could she sink back into the 
 old, aimless, hopeless existence ? She clenched her 
 hands until the fingers ached, and muttered fiercely, 
 "No; never! never!" 
 
 Then she gave herself up to enchantment, and as 
 was natural to her wilful nature refused even to con- 
 sider further any reasons which might modify her 
 transport. Presently, however, some details bearing 
 on her plan forced themselves upon her mind, but 
 she banished them when they began to be trouble- 
 some. It was time enough to ford a torrent when it 
 was reached. Upon one thing, however, she was 
 determined, to drop her name and assume another 
 in its place ; and then, as often happens at such mo- 
 ments, her mind was occupied with this unimportant 
 question. 
 
 The name Andr suggested itself to her, and she 
 repeated it several times, "Madame Andre" ! Mer- 
 cede Andre !" It sounded well, and would do unless 
 she thought of a better, although it sounded French. 
 Yet why not? Would Paris not be the best of all 
 places for her object? It would take her away
 
 58 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 from Italy altogether, while the advantages for her 
 work would be good, aud the city was large enough 
 to hide in. 
 
 Then London suggested itself, since she spoke 
 English quite as fluently as French ; but her heart in- 
 clined more toward the brighter city, and she was in 
 no humor to weigh reasons. Yes, to Paris she would 
 go ! Then her thoughts were turned again toward 
 the distant future, and her enthusiasm mounted once 
 more until it swept away all restraint of imagination, 
 and she was confident that a splendid career was 
 open to her. 
 
 She felt, not for the first time, that she was no 
 ordinary woman. Circumstances, bad luck, inex- 
 perience, something, had hitherto kept her down; 
 but it mattered little now, for her time had come. 
 The thought overwhelmed her, and for the first time 
 in many days she thanked God. 
 
 " Come, Francesco ! " she said excitedly, her beaut} 7 
 radiant as of old, " come ! let us hurry home, for 
 mamma must stop on the way." 
 
 Her step had its old firmness, her blood seemed to 
 rush through her veins, as she walked swiftly toward 
 the Corso. An hour ago how dark her future 
 seemed ! Then there had been nothing worse than 
 nothing to look forward to. Now, how different! 
 Remembering how the new idea was suggested to 
 her, she bent down and gratefully kissed her child. 
 Stopping at a shop, she bought some iron supports 
 and some clay, and then hurried home. She awaited 
 their arrival as patiently as she could, in the mean 
 time arranging a provisional studio and posing Fran-
 
 MERCEDE. 59 
 
 cesco in various attitudes, her heart at one moment 
 throbbing with wild hope, at the next faint with 
 despair. At last the clay arrived. She kneaded it 
 lovingly, and then began her momentous task. She 
 was very serious, and firmly holding herself in check, 
 worked slowly and carefully. The afternoon was 
 fast passing, and little Francesco needed frequent 
 rest. Mercede urged and commanded, then begged 
 him to be quiet, and he did his best ; but the light 
 began to grow dim before she had finished blocking 
 out the head. 
 
 She worked all the next day and into the afternoon 
 of the day following ; then stood back and critically 
 surveyed the bust. To her eye it seemed like the 
 child. In any case she had no patience to work 
 over it longer. She must have relief for the strain 
 upon her mind ; the matter must be settled without 
 further delay; the work must stand as it was, a 
 silent witness before the judge to whom she would 
 intrust her fate. 
 
 She drove to the studio of a sculptor whom she 
 had known before her marriage, and whose skill and 
 judgment in art were not excelled in Rome. She 
 knocked with a trembling hand, and it was a new 
 sensation to her. Formerly when she had visited 
 this studio she had felt that to some degree she was 
 patronizing the place, but this was before she had 
 attempted any serious work of her own ; now she 
 wondered at her former arrogance, and felt a be- 
 coming sense of humility as she stood upon the 
 threshold of Genius. 
 
 The artist was still at work, and came immediately
 
 60 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 from his modelling-room to receive her. He recog- 
 nized her and greeted her kindly. She briefly stated 
 her wish ; would he come and look at a bust of her 
 boy she had at home? He told her that he never 
 judged the work of other artists. But this work, she 
 declared, was not by an artist. He frowned slightly 
 and begged to be excused ; he really had no time to 
 criticise amateur efforts. 
 
 Her disappointment was so great that she had dif- 
 ficulty in restraining her tears. He noticed this, and 
 although surprised, was touched by it ; his manner 
 softened, and he asked her to follow him to his mod- 
 elling-room, where they could speak more privately. 
 This respite restored her courage and enabled her to 
 form her decision, and when they were seated she 
 told him briefly as much of her story as was neces- 
 sary to explain her position, and then acknowledged 
 that the work was her own. 
 
 Without further delay the kind-hearted man took 
 off his blouse and prepared to go with her. Ten 
 minutes later they stood before her work. 
 
 As she watched him calmly studying the figure, all 
 that the moment portended rushed over her and she 
 grew faint; but she would not, she must not distract 
 his attention at this supreme moment, and by force 
 of will she conquered. 
 
 At last he spoke : " You say you have never 
 studied ; is that literally true? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " It 's almost incredible ! " she heard him say 
 and then her will gave way.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS. 
 
 THE promise of a genial season, written upon the 
 hillsides by the spring primrose, seemed at last ful- 
 filled. This flower and its sweet sister, the violet, 
 had long since disappeared with the hepaticas and 
 anemones, but the air was still fragrant with wild 
 lilies-of-the-valley, locust-trees, and golden laburnum 
 blossoms. 
 
 Agatha raised her eyes from the plant she was 
 watering not far from the house, and scanned the 
 branches of a tree near by from which the song of a 
 nightingale came. 
 
 " How perfectly you have placed your nest, you 
 vain little thing ! " she said half aloud. She knew the 
 spot well, with its famous echo. 
 
 The half smile still lingered on her lips, when she 
 was startled by a voice just behind her. 
 
 " Good-morning, Signorina." 
 
 She turned and looked into the fatfe of the Marquis 
 Loreno. She was glad to see him, and returned his 
 greeting cordially. 
 
 " What an odd plant to cultivate ! " he said, glanc- 
 ing at the vervain she had been watering. " Do you
 
 62 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 drive away ill spirits with it as our respected ances- 
 tors did, or do you use it to unveil the future ? " 
 
 "Neither," she answered gayly ; "I'm too prac- 
 tical by half my Anglo-Saxon half. My sensible 
 English ancestors tied it around their necks to ward 
 off disease. Why, in their day it cured nearly thirty 
 different complaints, and quite thirty when tied with 
 a white ribbon." 
 
 " Then by all means give me a spray," he pleaded ; 
 " in common humanity you can't refuse." 
 
 " Unfortunately this is an Italian vervain." 
 
 "But don't you think it worth trying, say with 
 a double quantity of white ribbon ? " 
 
 " I 'm afraid not ; but I '11 give you a spray of 
 mignonette instead ; it heals bruises." 
 
 He laughed quietly. " I must say your language 
 of flowers is a practical one," he remarked, walking 
 with her toward the bank of mignonette a few steps 
 farther down the path. 
 
 " I am half American, and that must be my 
 excuse." 
 
 " But you have sentiment enough when you are 
 with your violin." 
 
 " That depends," she said slyly. 
 
 " Oh, upon your audience yes, I see ! " and he 
 was amused at his own discomfiture. 
 
 Agatha's heart misgave her lest she had hurt his 
 feelings, so she tried to soften the impression he 
 seemed to have received. 
 
 " Perhaps what I mean is rather this," she said 
 seriously : " different natures find different responses 
 in flowers as well as in music. As I can't interpret
 
 MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS. 63 
 
 all music equally well, perhaps the appeal of certain 
 flowers escapes me." 
 
 Her kind effort had a more cheering effect than 
 she intended, for her companion broke into a hearty 
 laugh. 
 
 " Upon my word, Miss Page," he exclaimed, " I 
 ought to be ashamed to find your soft-heartedness 
 amusing; but don't let mercy spoil so pretty a prick 
 as you gave me. If I induce you to fence, I must 
 abide by the consequences." 
 
 Plucking a spray of mignonette she divided it, and 
 putting one part in her dress handed him the other. 
 " I hope this spray will heal the prick," she said. 
 
 As he took it he watched her eyes ; but when they 
 were upturned to his frankly, he caught no subtle 
 expression to give her words additional weight. 
 
 He held the flower a moment before speaking. . 
 
 " Your spray seems a little bigger than mine," he 
 said. " Would you mind changing, simply upon 
 medicinal grounds ? " 
 
 She flushed slightly, but without hesitation loosened 
 her spray. 
 
 " There ! " she said ; " country doctors, I believe, 
 not only give their own drugs, bat in big doses, and I 
 suppose I ought to be consistent." 
 
 He placed the flower carefully in his button-hole. 
 
 She held in her hand the spray he had given her, 
 and he wondered if she would throw it away. 
 
 " Let us go to the house," she said presently ; " I 
 wish to present you to my uncle." 
 
 "I have already presented myself," he replied. "I 
 called this morning to pay my respects to the Count,
 
 64 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 and he received me most kindly. While we were 
 talking, the gardener caine to consult him, so he sent 
 me out here, saying that I should find you and that 
 he would join us presently." 
 
 He was conscious of pleasure as he spoke the word 
 " us," and wondered if he had spoken it quite natu- 
 rally. Self-consciousness is like yawning: it seizes 
 its victim suddenly, and there is no use trying to brow- 
 beat it. Strict silence helps to disguise it, but to 
 speak is to be lost. Unfortunately Loreno spoke. 
 
 ** It 's curious," he said impulsively, " to find my- 
 self here talking to you." 
 
 Agatha showed surprise. u Why ? " she asked. 
 
 " Because " He paused and began to cast about 
 for an answer. What could he say ? He dare not 
 risk telling her that he had thought of her constantly 
 since the hour he discovered her, nor in fact was he 
 prepared to go so far. He was ashamed to turn his 
 remark into a bald compliment, and yet he must 
 make some reply. 
 
 Agatha was distressed as she watched his embar- 
 rassment, but suddenly believed she had fathomed it. 
 
 " I think," she ventured, " that you are a little too 
 sensitive about having chanced upon me the other 
 day while I was playing. I really don't see anything 
 so dreadful in it ; was there ? " 
 
 He accepted with alacrity this chance of extricating 
 himself. 
 
 "Any way, it's very good of you to treat it so 
 leniently," he replied. 
 
 "Do you play any instrument, or sing?" she asked. 
 
 "I sing a little, and I paint in an amateur fashion."
 
 MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS, 65 
 
 " What do you paint, landscapes, or portraits ? " 
 
 " Portraits, usually." 
 
 Agatha's eye brightened with pleasure; she had 
 felt sure that he had a talent for something. 
 
 " What are you working on at present ? " 
 
 His eyes twinkled. " A combination of both," he 
 replied. 
 
 She was thoroughly interested and was about to 
 ask more concerning his work, when the Count joined 
 them. 
 
 " Have you shown the Marquis the orchids?" he 
 asked, turning to Agatha. 
 
 " Not yet ; but we might go and see them now if 
 the Marquis wishes." 
 
 Loreno declared that he should be delighted ; and 
 they all went to the conservatory, where the Count 
 had many specimens of this weird flower. 
 
 " After all," said Agatha when they had looked 
 through the collection, " while I admire orchids, I 
 have n't the peculiar sympathy with them that I 
 have with other flowers." 
 
 "I feel the same," said Loreno. "An orchid seems 
 to me more like an animal than a plant." 
 
 The General nodded his head. " That 's just it," 
 he said; "their splendid colors and their seeming 
 wilfulness have a great fascination for me." He 
 chuckled quietly and then added, " They remind me 
 a little of my daughter." 
 
 Agatha was delighted to hear him mention Mer- 
 cede so familiarly, and turning to Loreno, who was 
 searching the distant horizon as though a thunderbolt 
 had fallen, she said, 
 
 5
 
 66 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " The next time you call, my cousin, Signora 
 Finelli, will be here." 
 
 " There has evidently been a reconciliation," 
 thought Loreno with a tinge of regret; for he did not 
 consider a woman under a cloud a fit companion for 
 the young girl into whose clear eyes he was looking. 
 
 " Indeed ! " he said aloud. 
 
 " Yes ; she has been away a long time," said the 
 Count, " and at last she 's coming home again." 
 Then he added in a lower tone as though to himself, 
 " It will be very pleasant to have her here in the 
 old way, very." 
 
 " When do you expect your daughter ? " Filippo 
 inquired, conscious that he had not said enough. 
 
 " We don't know definitely, but I almost hope for 
 her to-morrow ; still, something may keep her a day 
 or two longer in Rome." 
 
 "I shall be curious to see how closely she resembles 
 the orchid ; but," he continued, deliberately leading 
 the subject to less perplexing ground, " do you really 
 find that the colors of the orchid are more admirable 
 than those of the usual garden flowers? " 
 
 Then they debated again this much debated ques- 
 tion, Loreno finding a secret pleasure in joining forces 
 with Agatha. He watched her closely, and began to 
 think that he had never seen a face combining so 
 many of the qualities which he admired in a woman. 
 Then, too, while holding to her point firmly, she ar- 
 gued with so much modesty and such becoming defer- 
 ence to her uncle's opinions, that Filippo, in thinking 
 over the conversation on his homeward ride, pro- 
 nounced her conduct to have been perfect, indifferent
 
 MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS. 67 
 
 to the fact that ninety-nine young women in a hun- 
 dred would have acquitted themselves quite as cred- 
 itably. But Filippo was developing a tendency to 
 idealize everything that Agatha did or said, throwing 
 over her all the charm of his glowing imagination 
 and intemperate nature. 
 
 The next day, although Agatha was up very early, 
 she found that the Count was before her. He was 
 walking in the garden picking flowers, a most un- 
 usual thing for him, and as Agatha drew near she 
 heard him humming an old song of Mercede's. When 
 he caught the sound of her footstep he looked up 
 brightly. 
 
 "So here you are!" he exclaimed. "I began to 
 fear I was doomed to solitude this glorious morning. 
 Come, a fresh rose for a kiss ! " 
 
 Agatha went to him and kissed him affectionately. 
 "You deserve two," she said, "for the improvement 
 in your hours." 
 
 "To-morrow, perhaps I shall reqeive two," he re- 
 plied. " But we must not be too sure, for it 's not 
 so easy for a woman to run off to the country at a 
 day's notice, especially a woman with a child ; and, 
 by the bye, Agatha, that 's a fine little boy of hers, 
 a very pretty child indeed." 
 
 " I have his photograph ; did he not remind you 
 of dear Aunt Teresa? " 
 
 " Very much. Is the photograph here, or in 
 Rome?" 
 
 " I brought it with me ; let me get it." 
 
 " Never mind now, dear," he said. " I 'm going
 
 68 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 to Erba for the morning mail, and we ought to have 
 our coffee immediately ; won't you hurry it, and 
 bring the picture to the table?" 
 
 She went to the house, and a few minutes later 
 the Count followed. As Agatha busied herself with 
 the 'coffee, her companion bent affectionately over the 
 face of his grandson. 
 
 " I suppose that Francesco will sit here besida 
 ine ? " he said. 
 
 " Yes, and I '11 sit opposite, in my old place." 
 
 *' No, you must stay where you are." 
 
 " I don't wish to," she said. " I shall feel it much 
 more of an honor to be near you." 
 
 He laughed nervously. " Well," he said, " arrange 
 it all as you think best ; " and after a pause he added 
 fervently, "it will be even pleasanter than it used 
 to be, for now we shall have the child." 
 
 After breakfast Agatha watched him drive away, 
 and then went to Mercede's rooms to see that 
 they were in order. Upon the sitting-room table 
 were the flowers, which the Count had so carefully 
 selected. 
 
 " Dear uncle ! " she said half aloud ; " I hope he 
 won't have to wait another day." 
 
 She went down to the lawn where she could watch 
 for his return, but as soon as she saw him knew that 
 he had been disappointed. 
 
 " No letter from Rome," he said as bravely as he 
 could. " I suppose it was unreasonable to expect 
 her so soon, but I hoped that at least she would send 
 a line." 
 
 In spite of her own disappointment Agatha tried
 
 MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS. 69 
 
 to comfort him. Putting her arm through his she 
 said, 
 
 u She probably missed the post. I 'm sure you will 
 hear from her this afternoon." 
 
 " But if she had written immediately we should 
 have received the letter last night." 
 
 " Yes, but she probably waited to decide when she 
 could come." 
 
 He seemed to be considering this explanation. 
 
 "That's true," he said presently; "I think you 
 are right. I hope we shall know to-night." 
 
 But neither that day nor the next brought any 
 news from Mercede, and the Count's growing disap- 
 pointment was sad to see. Agatha was at a loss to 
 understand her cousin's silence, and determined, if 
 no letter should come the following day, that she 
 would telegraph to her. 
 
 When she met the Count the next morning, he 
 Was pale and haggard, and it was evident that he had 
 not slept. His nerves were at a high tension, and 
 she dreaded the effect of another disappointment. 
 After watching him furtively for a few moments 
 she made up her mind that he ought not to go to 
 the post-office alone, for he could scarcely guide the 
 cup to his lips, because of the trembling of his 
 hand. 
 
 " Would you mind taking me with you this morn- 
 ing, Uncle ? " she asked. " It 's very hard to bear the 
 suspense here all alone." 
 
 The reason appealed to him, but at the same time 
 he was conscious of less power to bear stoically an- 
 other fruitless errand.
 
 70 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " In case we don't hear anything this morning, I 
 might telegraph," she suggested desperately, seeing 
 his indecision. 
 
 This seemed to impress him favorably. 
 
 " Yes, it might be well," he replied. 
 
 "Then I may go?" 
 
 " Well, I don't know, perhaps." 
 
 She chose to accept this as final, and when the car- 
 riage was announced, sent for her hat. 
 
 They arrived at the post-office before the post- 
 master, and waited for him half an hour. There 
 were a dozen or fifteen contadini present in the dingy 
 little room ; the men smoking and speaking occasion- 
 ally in guttural tones, while they stared with curi- 
 osity at the Count and Agatha, whose faces they 
 knew well. The Count talked rapidly and inces- 
 santly during the sorting of the letters, and as his 
 excitement continued to increase, Agatha grew more 
 and more anxious. 
 
 As the window was swung open, she saw her uncle 
 turn pale. He suddenly stopped talking, but stood 
 stolidly, with his back toward the letters. 
 
 The contadini waited for him to advance. 
 
 " Buon giorno Eccelenza," called the official, " only 
 two papers for you this morning and a letter." 
 
 The pount turned quickly and his face flushed. 
 
 " Let me get them," pleaded Agatha, laying her 
 hand upon his arm. 
 
 " I will get them," he replied firmly, as he moved 
 forward. 
 
 Taking the letter with eager eyes and compressed 
 lips, he scanned it, and with an exclamation of delight
 
 MIGNONETTE AND ORCHIDS. 71 
 
 handed it to Agatha, to whom it was addressed in 
 Mercede's handwriting. 
 
 She tore open the envelope, and standing close to- 
 gether, each read as follows : 
 
 MY DEAR A'GATHA, Thank in}' father for his eleventh- 
 hour consideration. Were I not his daughter it would be 
 ungracious to decline his invitation ; but with his blood 
 in my veins and his pride in rny heart, I should disgrace 
 him did I so humble myself. 
 
 My father turned his back upon me for years ; then he 
 recognized his obligation merely to save his own honor. 
 It would be undutiful to continue to offend that sensitive 
 honor with the presence of the offender and her child born 
 out of wedlock, and I propose to bury the past with more 
 certainty than through death, to disappear without need 
 of a gravestone. In fact, Agatha, at the moment you 
 read this I shall have begun a new life, with a new name ; 
 I here and now renounce the old, absolutely. 
 
 If at some future day I should return under new con- 
 ditions and in)' father and 3'ou, like the rest of the world, 
 will receive me for my new self alone, I shall then be truly 
 grateful and happy. 
 
 With abiding honor for my father and love for you, 
 
 MERCEDE. 
 
 The old Count staggered and uttered a cry of pain, 
 then with a ghastly struggle he conjured up a smile. 
 " Come, Agatha," he said, offering her his arm gal- 
 lantly, " come, my dear. We should be going ; my 
 early rising betrayed me into a yawn." 
 
 And as the villagers raised their hats to him, he 
 courteously returned the salute, and passing through 
 them went out into the air.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AT THE IKON GATE. 
 
 IT was about eleven o'clock when Agatha, hearing 
 from her uncle's valet that the Count was sleeping 
 quietly, put on her hat and started out to find Padre 
 Sacconi. 
 
 The sun shone as brightly as yesterday, yet some- 
 how it seemed less joyous. The quiet about her, 
 usually so welcome, oppressed her now. The memory 
 of a distant day came back to her ; on that day also 
 everything and every one seemed horribly quiet, and 
 her heart, as to-day, seemed numb. At that time 
 her uncle had drawn her to him tenderly and tried 
 to comfort her ; now their positions were reversed, 
 and to-day, when at last they had reached the house, 
 and the Count's nerve gave way, she had been the 
 comforter, stroking his hair and suggesting such 
 hopeful thoughts as she could. 
 
 Yet this day was sadder than the other. The con- 
 solation of a tender parting had been hers, while the 
 desolate old man yonder had no look of love to re- 
 call, no message to treasure. His cup was as full as 
 hers, but filled with gall. In his surging grief he 
 had moaned out each heartless phrase penned by 
 Mercede, until with a shudder he cried, " They are
 
 AT THE IRON GATE. 73 
 
 cold as steel, Agatha ; they pierce like the stiletto." 
 And now, as the young girl recalled them, her in- 
 dignation grew hotter, until she exclaimed bitterly* 
 " Shame upon you, Mercede, shame ! " 
 
 Reaching the iron gate through which Filippo had 
 first seen her, she flung it open vigorously, then 
 started back in surprise. She was confronted by the 
 easel of the young Marquis, and she saw its owner 
 stretched on the grass a few yards away, playing with 
 the Duke Faviola's dogs. 
 
 Her righteous indignation had given her unusual 
 color, and he thought she was annoyed at finding him 
 there. Rising hastily he turned his sketch, and then 
 held out his hand to her. 
 
 " Good-morning," he said. 
 
 She felt that her cheeks were hot, and her embar- 
 rassment was increased by his searching gaze. 
 
 " We seem fated to meet here," she said, seizing 
 upon the first words that entered her mind. 
 
 " This time I feel less guilty," he answered, " foi 
 you must acknowledge that it 's a pretty spot for a 
 sketch." 
 
 u It is very pretty, certainly," and her tone was as 
 gay as she could make it, " very pretty indeed." 
 
 " Have you started for a stroll, or are you going 
 somewhere I mean, where I may not go with 
 you?" 
 
 " I am going to Padre Sacconi's, and think I had 
 better go alone, for I have something about which 
 to consult him ; besides, I see that you are painting, 
 and I '11 come back the other way to avoid disturbing 
 you."
 
 74 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Then I '11 not stay a moment longer," he said de- 
 cisively. " I won't consent to drive you to the sunny 
 high-road." 
 
 " If you really don't mind being disturbed, I '11 
 come back this way ; and now I must be going." 
 
 He watched her with surprise, for her manner was 
 unnaturally gay. 
 
 " You are evidently in great spirits this morning," 
 he said with a smile. 
 
 " And why not ? " she answered ; but in spite of 
 herself she could not control the quick tears that 
 sprang to her eyes, nor a premonitory little twitch at 
 the corners of her mouth. 
 
 He was at her side in an instant, while something 
 in his eyes and voice made her hold her breath. 
 
 " I wish I might know," he said, " that you hold 
 me in enough esteem to call upon me if I can help 
 you ; for something has surely gone wrong, and very 
 wrong." 
 
 Her nerves had been greatly strained by the events 
 of the day, and she could scarcely choke back the 
 tears. " I don't think you can help me," she replied 
 in a low voice. " I fear no one can." 
 
 He looked at her earnestly. " Answer me but one 
 question may I ask it ? Are you perfectly happy 
 in your present home ? " 
 
 " Yes," she cried quickly, " perfectly ! I could n't 
 be happier." 
 
 He continued to look at her while he reflected. 
 
 " I don't wish to pry into your affairs," he said 
 presently ; " but because I don't press the subject I 
 hope you won't think me indifferent."
 
 AT THE IRON GATE. 75 
 
 She did not reply, for she was absorbed in thought. 
 Intuitively she trusted this man, she was surprised to 
 find how much. He seemed to her the most manly 
 man she had ever met ; as Padre Sacconi was the 
 most saintly, and her uncle the kindest of men. 
 
 As she raised her glance to his earnest face and 
 read the honesty and sympathy beaming in his 
 eyes, how could she doubt him ? She needed the 
 advice of some one in this crisis, if only for the sake 
 of her uncle, whose heart seemed broken and whose 
 purpose seemed dead. Had it been a personal mat- 
 ter only, she might have remained silent ; but she 
 felt that she must share with some one her present 
 responsibility. She did not believe that Mercede, 
 could she but be found, would be inflexible ; but 
 where and how should they seek her ? Padre Sac- 
 coni was the only person whom she had thought of 
 consulting ; but now Loreno's unexpected offer 
 tempted her greatly. He was a man of the world, 
 and his opinion upon such a subject would be worth 
 more than that of the priest. 
 
 ' ; Do you remember," she said at last, " that I told 
 you my cousin was coming ? " 
 
 " Perfectly ; has she arrived ? " 
 
 " No ; and that is what troubles me." 
 
 " I 'm very sorry ; has n't she written ?" 
 
 " Yes, a terrible letter." She paused, and he 
 watched her silently as her eyes filled with despair. 
 " I don't know that any one can help me, and yet I 
 can't be sure." 
 
 " Two heads are sometimes better than one. As I 
 have said, I am entirely at your service."
 
 70 AGATHA PACE. 
 
 " You are very kind. I was on my way to ask 
 Padre Sacconi's opinion, but I am tempted to ask 
 yours also. You have been more in the world, and 
 might have better judgment about an affair of this 
 sort." She looked into his attentive face. "Are you 
 sincere ? Do you really wish to help me, or are you 
 merely courteous ? Don't let me make a mistake ! " 
 
 He stepped forward impulsively and looked straight 
 into her eyes. 
 
 " Signorina," he said, " test my sincerity. I long 
 to help you, and I promise to do everything in my 
 power to justify " 
 
 " Wait " and she held up her hand ; " first hear 
 what it is." 
 
 " I don't care what it is," he replied, impelled not 
 alone by his interest in Agatha, but by the natural 
 impulse of manhood to aid a woman in trouble. " I 
 invite your confidence, not to comfort you, but be- 
 cause I hope to serve you." 
 
 " I don't doubt it," she said firmly ; " but I really 
 have no right to draw you into my trouble." 
 
 He was silent a moment. " Can I say more than I 
 have ? Is it necessary to repeat what I have said al- 
 ready ? Don't stand upon ceremony. Perhaps I can 
 help you ; I have said that I am more than anxious 
 to do so; then why go backward? Why not take 
 me at my word, and state frankly what your trouble 
 is ? " He paused, but she remained silent, and he 
 added, "Indeed, I have already guessed it, you 
 fear your cousin has run away." 
 
 " We know that she has." 
 
 " With any one ? "
 
 AT THE IRON GATE. 77 
 
 " With her child." 
 
 " Simply run away from her husband, then? " 
 
 " They were not living together, and she was in 
 Rome ; as you know, we expected her here, but to- 
 day a letter came from her saying she has run away. 
 My uncle is heart-broken, and I must find her and 
 induce her to come back." 
 
 She felt in her pocket and drew out Mercede's 
 letter. 
 
 " Do you think any circumstances would justify 
 my showing her letter to you? " 
 
 "Yes, but I can't judge whether the present cir- 
 cumstances would ; you must decide." 
 
 " I must find her, and I have n't the faintest idea 
 how to go about it. I feel utterly helpless, and don't 
 dare to speak her name to my uncle. I wish I knew 
 what to do ! " 
 
 Without further hesitation he began to question 
 her, thus, to her great relief, drawing the main facts 
 from her ; and the ice once broken, she readily 
 handed him the letter and without reservation told 
 him whatever she thought would throw light upon 
 the affair. 
 
 He was indeed puzzled. What could have induced 
 this flight? Mercede, as he learned, had no need 
 to work, and dishonor was unlikely, since her let- 
 ter spoke of a new life from which she might some 
 day emerge with the respect of the world. Could 
 she then have run away only to escape humilia- 
 tion ? Perhaps ; but mere absence would not win 
 respect: there must be something more active in 
 her intention.
 
 78 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " You say she is beautiful and romantic," he said, 
 after further reflection ; " she may intend to go upon 
 the stage." 
 
 Agatha shook her head. " Possibly, but I doubt 
 it ; my cousin never would consent to play a minor 
 part." 
 
 " Would she, perhaps, try to do something with 
 her taste for sculpture ? " 
 
 Agatha considered well before replying. " Possi- 
 bly, but I doubt it. She had done so little at it." 
 
 They both remained silent, conning the main facts. 
 
 "I think I would simply be patient," Loreno said 
 presently, " for you don't wish to make the matter 
 public, and to search for her without attracting at- 
 tention is impossible. Her experience in facing the 
 world alone, may force her back to you ; but you 
 can't touch her feelings even if you find her, her 
 letter convinces me of that. Her head is full of a 
 new idea, besides which, she thinks she has a griev- 
 ance. She will not come back until she has tested 
 her experiment and is ready to bury her grievance. 
 Leave her alone for the present ; but should further 
 reflection suggest anything to be done, I shall be 
 ready to do it." 
 
 " In the mean time," said Agatha, " what about 
 her father? He 's terribly broken down." 
 
 ** He will pull up again ; although, of course, such a 
 wound must leave its mark. His breaking down was 
 the best thing in the world for him ; it relieved the 
 tension, and now his old pride will come to his aid." 
 
 " I fear that he will never be the same man after 
 such a blow."
 
 AT THE IRON GATE, 79 
 
 " How does my opinion about your cousin strike 
 you ? " he inquired. 
 
 Agatha silently reviewed what he had said ; then 
 with a deep sigh that went to her companion's heart 
 she replied, " I 'm afraid you are right." 
 
 ' You don't know how it cuts me," he exclaimed, 
 " to feel that anything I have said should make you 
 sigh like that ; I would ask no happier life than 
 to " the sudden fright that came into her eyes 
 checked him, and he stammered in a changed voice, 
 "to always say pleasant things to people." 
 
 " Yes, I am sure of it," she found voice to repty, 
 and then moving quickly to the gate seemed about 
 to dart within its friendly protection, but on second 
 thought came forward and gave him her hand 
 frankly. 
 
 " Good-by," she said. " I feel scarcely at liberty 
 to invite you to the house to-day, but I hope we shall 
 see you soon, and I thank you again and again for 
 your kindness." 
 
 He clasped her hand in both of his and she let it 
 lie passively for a moment. Then she withdrew it 
 slowly. 
 
 He went back to his canvas, and turning it sat 
 with fixed gaze regarding the figure of a young girl 
 playing upon a violin. 
 
 Not far away Agatha paused, and opening a locket 
 which hung from her watch-chain looked upon a 
 spray of mignonette that lay within.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 UNDERTONES. 
 
 THE growth of love is inexplicable. We may 
 recognize certain conditions which favor it, but who 
 can tell how its complex tissues are spun ? The love 
 which sprang up and blossomed in Agatha's pure 
 heart became a blessed fact which she accepted not 
 without emotion intense and absorbing, but without 
 marvelling. The growth of a flower or a tree " in 
 the teeth of gravity " had often filled her mind with 
 wonder; but this new growth in her very soul seemed 
 not only natural but inevitable. It did not occur to 
 her to analyze either the reason or the method. She 
 simply accepted her joy as a nun accepts the " peace 
 of God which passeth all understanding." It was 
 the result of a condition for which she should be, 
 and was, devoutly grateful. 
 
 Loreno was sensible of her charm, even conscious 
 that she had awakened in him a deep regard. While 
 he had never been truly in love, he had several times 
 before been strongly attracted toward some young 
 girl, until a trivial offence to his fastidiousness, or a 
 premature token of conquest, had chilled his interest. 
 
 At the time his sister had spoken, half in sport, 
 regarding his treatment of young women, he was
 
 UNDERTONES. 81 
 
 conscious of the general truth of her words, and now 
 he wished and intended to profit by them. He re 
 spected Agatha to the depth of his nature, and would 
 on no account compromise her by aimless attention ; 
 nor would he even approach nearer and run any pos- 
 sible risk of awakening her interest, unless prepared 
 to offer her everything. Therefore he decided that 
 he ought to go away without delay and test the 
 strength of his feeling. 
 
 " There is no telling what I might have said had 
 her frightened face not stopped me," he murmured, 
 as he sat at his window the night after Agatha's 
 confidence, pondering until the stars grew dim, and 
 the rattle of market-wagons blending with the sharp 
 crack of whips, floated up from the pallid plain. 
 
 Where he should go was now to be determined. 
 The first place he thought of was his own villa near 
 Varese ; but this did not meet with unqualified ap- 
 proval, for he feared the quiet of the place would not 
 favor his experiment. One plan after another was 
 canvassed, but he arrived at no decision. The 
 reason for this was clear, he was working from the 
 wrong end ; but as soon as he permitted his mind 
 to consider freely his yearning to aid Agatha, he 
 began to draw nearer a conclusion. He had prom- 
 ised to help her, and was in honor bound to make 
 his promise good. The first thing to do was to go 
 to Rome and search for a clew to the refugee's 
 movements. Thus he would redeem his promise 
 and yet be away from Agatha's spell. 
 
 Hollow as was this self-deception, it seemed to 
 satisfy him, and he blithety dismissed his perplexity. 
 
 6
 
 82 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 It is difficult for certain practical minds, with an habit- 
 ual and almost puritanical sincerity of self-examina- 
 tion, to realize the power of optimism, both material 
 and moral, which a certain type of mind possesses. 
 It exists, nevertheless, even under the shadow of 
 many a New England church-steeple, and thrives 
 luxuriantly in the sunny atmosphere of contentment- 
 loving Italy. Loreno was sincere, and opening a 
 door to a balcony went out to see the first shafts of 
 the rising sun touch the distant Alps, and after enjoy- 
 ing the pageant threw himself upon a lounge and 
 slept peacefully. 
 
 The Duchess was surprised when her brother an- 
 nounced at luncheon his intention to leave for Rome 
 the following day, and she protested, as did the Duke 
 and Gaeta. 
 
 " Have you finished all your sketches ? " asked 
 Gaeta, innocently. 
 
 " Yes; although I've some last touches to put on 
 one of them after luncheon." 
 
 *' Which one ? The head of that peasant woman 
 at Erba ? " 
 
 " No ; a landscape with a figure in it." 
 
 " And a gate," added the Duchess. 
 
 " I have n't seen that one," said the child. 
 
 " No ; the gate is in the foreground," replied her 
 mother, " and it 's usually closed." 
 
 "What does mamma mean?" Gaeta asked, turning 
 to Loreno. 
 
 " Have n't you heard, little girl, of certain Bible 
 truths that you will understand better when you are 
 older?"
 
 UNDERTONES. 83 
 
 "Yes; but what of that?" 
 
 " This is one of the same kind." 
 
 The Duke smiled, and Gaeta was encouraged to 
 persist. 
 
 " Try me," she said ; " I think I 'm old enough to 
 understand." 
 
 " Not quite yet," and he patted her dark curls. 
 
 " But mamma was talking of a gate in a pic- 
 ture, and about it 's being closed ; I understood 
 that." 
 
 " The modus operand!? " 
 
 " What is that ? " 
 
 " There, I said you would n't understand.'* 
 
 The crestfallen child remained silent, and the Duke 
 remarked upon the evidence furnished by the Paris 
 Exposition, of the wonderful recuperative power pos- 
 sessed by the Parisians, considering the recent date 
 of the Franco-Prussian War. 
 
 Within an hour Loreno started for the hills toward 
 the Villa Ricci, with his faithful companions, the 
 Duke's four dogs, circling about him. 
 
 As he approached the villa he saw Agatha and 
 her uncle together on the veranda overlooking the 
 lawn. The Count was reclining in a long wicker chair, 
 while Agatha sat at his side reading aloud. As she 
 glanced up and saw the visitor she spoke to her uncle, 
 who turned his head listlessly, but instantly lowered 
 the foot-rest and pulled himself together. Agatha 
 arose, and walking to the end of the veranda greeted 
 Loreno cordially and invited him to join her uncle. 
 The old man was upon his feet, and stood erect, wait- 
 ing to receive his guest.
 
 84 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I 'm afraid I disturb you," said Loreno, taking the 
 Count's hand. " I saw your niece reading to you." 
 
 " Not at all," was the hearty response. " Agatha 
 occasionally reads aloud after luncheon while I listen, 
 and sometimes," he added with a faint smile, " I fear 
 I sleep a little." 
 
 " You don't mind my bringing the dogs up here? " 
 Filippo asked, as he noticed the General's eye rest 
 upon the big brutes, who stood wagging their tails at 
 Agatha's flattery ; for she was upon her knees patting 
 each head in turn and praising all. 
 
 " Not in the least; and what fine fellows they are!" 
 
 "Are they not splendid? " exclaimed Agatha, look- 
 ing up at her uncle. " What good faces they have!" 
 
 " So they have," he replied. " One may do worse 
 than love a faithful dog." 
 
 . The General asked Loreno to be seated, and ig- 
 noring the easy chair offered him, chose one with a 
 straight back. Then he asked after the Duke Faviola 
 and his family. 
 
 " Is n't Gaeta a charming child ?" said Agatha, still 
 caressing the dogs. 
 
 "Charming," Filippo replied; "and her devotion 
 to her father is touching." 
 
 The anxious glance which Agatha gave her uncle 
 told the Marquis how careful he must be. 
 
 " She is very clever also," added Agatha hastily, 
 rising and standing behind the Count with her hand 
 upon his shoulder. " I think her musical talent is 
 remarkable." 
 
 " She tells me that you sometimes play duets with 
 her."
 
 UNDERTONES. 85 
 
 "But she told me something more important," 
 and Agatha looked at him knowingly. 
 
 "And what, pray ? " 
 
 " That she has been promised a new piano on her 
 next birthday." 
 
 He laughed deprecatingly : " I 'm glad she is 
 pleased; but you also know the condition upon 
 which I promised it?" 
 
 " Yes ; that she learns the piano part of the Chopin 
 nocturne in D flat, arranged for piano and violin ; she 
 came to ask me if I had the music," was the nai've 
 response. 
 
 " Did you have it ? " asked the hypocrite, soberly. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; it 's one of my favorites. Why, I be- 
 lieve I was playing it that day when " She paused, 
 and then seemed to forget what she was about to 
 say, which may have been the cause of her sudden 
 color. 
 
 "So you, too, are fond of music?" said the Count 
 to Loreno. 
 
 " Very ; although I don't play at all." 
 
 *' But you sing beautifully," said Agatha ; " Gaeta 
 told me so." 
 
 " That 's in return for the piano." 
 
 "Would you mind singing something to us? " she 
 asked. " My uncle is devoted to music, and I have 
 some books of songs. Do you sing Schumann ? " 
 
 " Sometimes, but I 'd rather not reveal ray Ger- 
 man to you ; let me try something in Italian." 
 
 " Something of Tosti's or Denza's ? " 
 
 " Have you Rotoli's arrangement of Mendelssohn's 
 * Auf Fliigeln des Gesanges ' ? "
 
 86 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " No, but I have Mendelssohn's songs, so per- 
 haps we can manage it. Come, let us try;" and 
 she led the way through a glass door into the music- 
 room, and after a few moments' rehearsal the Count 
 heard Loreno's rich voice singing the passionate 
 strains. 
 
 "How lovely!" he heard Agatha exclaim at the 
 close. " Strangely enough, I never heard that song 
 before." 
 
 " It would sound charming on the violin," was the 
 answer. 
 
 " Would it be troubling you too much to write the 
 Italian translation ? " 
 
 " I will do so with pleasure ; and I '11 do it now, for 
 I am going away to-morrow." 
 
 He watched her closely, hoping to detect some sign 
 of feeling at the thought of parting. 
 
 " Are you ? " she said in a low voice. 
 
 He must have been blind ; for although the cheeks 
 lost color and the sensitive lips parted and even quiv- 
 ered slightly, he saw nothing. Perhaps he expected 
 that she would start involuntarily and murmur, " 'Tis 
 better so," as tears streamed from her eyes. 
 
 Had he detected her feeling, such is the nature 
 of some men, he might not have appreciated so easy 
 a conquest, possibly never have returned to her. The 
 feminine instinct of coquetry has scarcely been given 
 even to birds without reason. 
 
 " Yes," he added ; " I 'm going to Rome, and may 
 then run on to the Exposition." 
 
 " How interesting ! I envy you." 
 
 He glanced toward the open door and dropped
 
 UNDERTONES. 8T 
 
 his voice : " But I shall not be unmindful of your 
 cousin." 
 
 " You are very kind." 
 
 *' How shall I communicate with you if I find trace 
 of her?" 
 
 She touched the piano and appeared to be thinking. 
 
 " Send word to Padre Sacconi; I '11 prepare him for 
 it," she said softly. 
 
 " Very well." Then he continued in his usual 
 tone, " Can you let me have a sheet of paper ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; I '11 get it from the library." 
 
 The Count appeared at the door. "Sing some- 
 thing else, won't you?" he said. "You have a de- 
 lightful voice." 
 
 "With pleasure," Loreno replied. " Miss Page will 
 perhaps find something that I know, while I copy the 
 words I 've just sung." 
 
 " You sing Schubert's songs ? " asked the Count. 
 
 " Yes, some of them." 
 
 " Then sing this one to me ; " and finding the book 
 he turned its leaves. " Do you know it ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Come," he said to Agatha, who now returned, 
 carrying a portfolio; "play this accompaniment for 
 the Marquis." 
 
 She was pleased at her uncle's interest, but as she 
 glanced at the song she grew grave. 
 
 " Oh, not that one," she said ; " choose some 
 other." 
 
 " But I wish that one," said the Count. 
 
 "It's so morbid." 
 
 " Come, begin ! " he said.
 
 88 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 So Loreno sang : 
 
 " ' The storm hath rent asunder 
 
 The sky's thick robe of gray ; 
 The clouds are cleft with thunder, 
 And roll in strife away. 
 
 " ' And blinding fires are flaming 
 
 The dusky clouds behind ; 
 A morn like this resembleth 
 Mine own bewildered mind. 
 
 " ' My heart sees in yon heaven 
 It 's own dark image there ; 
 'Tis naught else now but winter, 
 Wild winter cold and bare. ' " 
 
 The old man stood near the singer drinking in the 
 wild measures with sincere delight. 
 
 " That 's a good song," he said as Agatha closed the 
 book, " and admirably given." 
 
 Then he went out again upon the veranda. 
 
 " He is very bitter," Loreno said. 
 
 *' Very ! " and Agatha's face was troubled. 
 
 "Don't be down-hearted; he's not half as bad as 
 I expected to find him. Try to get him away for a 
 few weeks ; a change would do him a world of good." 
 
 " Yes, it might ; I '11 think it over. Shall we go 
 outside ? " 
 
 ' Won't you play something first ? " 
 
 She hesitated. " Willingly, if you wish it ; but be- 
 fore I begin I '11 go and see if my uncle needs any- 
 thing." 
 
 He watched the graceful outline of her figure as 
 she walked toward the light, and felt a sense of pleas- 
 ure at the thought that presently she would be com-
 
 UNDERTONES. 89 
 
 ing back to him. He stood by the piano turning 
 over some music mechanically, his thoughts upon 
 the new interest that had come into his life. 
 
 " What a restful personality she has," he said to 
 himself, "and how gently and naturally she does 
 everything ! " Then he wondered how it would seem 
 to have her always about him as the Count had. 
 " Probably I should get used to it and cease to ap- 
 preciate it, that 's the way of the world ; " and he 
 smiled at his wisdom. " And then? " His face grad- 
 ually grew serious as he thought rapidly and earn- 
 estly. The rustle of Agatha's dress at the door 
 aroused him. " Yes, much better go away," was his 
 mental conclusion. 
 
 " I 'm sorry to have kept you waiting," she 
 said, going to her violin-case and taking out the 
 instrument. 
 
 " Don't mention it : how are the dogs behaving 
 themselves? " 
 
 " They are all lying about my uncle's chair, trying 
 their best to keep awake. What shall I play ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Almost anything," he said indifferently. 
 
 A shade of disappointment touched her face. 
 
 " Then I '11 play a little thing of Wieniawski's," 
 and instantly her bow struck the strings and she 
 dashed into a brilliant waltz full of technical sur- 
 prises, but without a pretence of sentiment. 
 
 " What fire you have ! " he exclaimed as she laid 
 the violin away. 
 
 " But surely you prefer another kind of music ? " 
 and her voice was almost pleading.
 
 90 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Certainly I do ; but I am glad to have heard you 
 iu that kind." 
 
 She was penitent for having misjudged him even 
 for a moment, and turning took up her bow again. 
 Poising it for an instant she began the nocturne he 
 had before heard her play. 
 
 Thrilled by the force of its new associations, she 
 gave to it a depth of pure sentiment that finds a 
 fitting means of expression in the music of Chopin. 
 He was too musical to be insensible to such a ren- 
 dering, and with eyes riveted upon the player, sat 
 motionless, oblivious to all save the swelling notes 
 that flowed from a full heart. 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of a phrase, the music 
 ceased. The spell was broken, and he searched the 
 face of the musician eagerl}'. 
 
 She stood with her head bent low, her bow at her 
 side ; her breathing was distinct and tremulous ; she 
 struggled bravely for a moment, then raising her eyes 
 to his, smiled deprecatingly, and turning laid away 
 her violin. 
 
 Neither spoke while she busied herself over the 
 case, but when she turned her face Loreno rose im- 
 pulsively and went toward her. 
 
 " Why did you stop, Agatha dear?" called out the 
 Count, who appeared at the window. 
 
 " I couldn't go on," she answered. 
 
 He came forward solicitously. 
 
 " You 're tired out, my child," he said, " and need 
 rest. Come out into the air and let me show you 
 how to be comfortable." 
 
 " I feel very well, thank you," and she took his
 
 UNDERTONES. 91 
 
 arm ; " but the Marquis, I am sure, will enjoy a ciga- 
 rette with you. I '11 get the tobacco ; " and disen- 
 gaging her arm she hurried into the corridor. 
 
 44 The fact is," the Count explained, " my niece is 
 in need of rest ; she has had some affairs to worry 
 her of late, and such a nature as hers can't stand 
 much wear and tear." 
 
 44 Why don't you take her away for a little 
 change ? " suggested the other. 
 
 44 Not a bad idea," was the answer. 44 1 '11 consider 
 it ; but Agatha does n't often care to run away from 
 Erba." 
 
 44 But if she needs change of air, and you urge 
 it, she will probably yield." 
 
 44 No doubt. I '11 think about it." 
 
 Agatha soon rejoined them, bearing the tobacco 
 and paper, and having deftly rolled two cigarettes, 
 handed one to each gentleman. 
 
 A little later Loreno rose and offered his hand to 
 the Count. 
 
 44 1 must bid you good-by," he said; 44 1 leave to- 
 morrow." 
 
 The Count glanced quickty at Agatha and was 
 glad to see that she showed no feeling, for he dreaded 
 the thought of losing her, now that Mercede was 
 irreclaimably gone from him. 
 
 44 1 hope we shall have the pleasure of welcoming 
 you again," were his words ; for he liked Loreno. 
 
 The Marquis thanked him and turned to Agatha. 
 
 " Good-by," he said, holding out his hand. 
 
 4 ' Good-by," and she looked him bravely in the 
 eye.
 
 92 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 He strode homeward with his brow contracted, his 
 eyes upon the ground. 
 
 " She does n't seem to have a heart except when 
 she plays the violin," he muttered as he turned into 
 the gate of the Villa Faviola.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 MADAME ANDR& 
 
 MERCEDE knew that a sculptor, like a pianist, must 
 acquire technique ; that a stranger in haste takes 
 the highway, leaving short cuts to pleasure-seekers ; 
 that genius, like electricity, must be guided. There- 
 fore she attended an art school, and entered the 
 studio of M. de Valro, a distinguished sculptor to 
 whom her patron in Rome had given her a letter. 
 She put her boy at school near Paris, and took a 
 room for herself near the studio. Although the 
 Count had given her the dowry required for an offi- 
 cer's wife, strict economy was necessar}-. At last 
 she was fairly started in her new career, and felt the 
 exultation which a true sailor knows when the land 
 is growing dim and he feels the blue water under 
 him. Before him are anxious watches, tempests, 
 calms, and possible disaster; he is not unmindful of 
 them, but braves them gladly because they are part 
 of the life he loves. 
 
 Her progress in her work was astonishing, and she 
 had already attracted the attention of her master 
 at the school, while M. de Valro began to take a 
 genuine interest in her. Her industry was excep- 
 tional ; she studied constantly, getting her only ex- 
 ercise in going to and from her work. In her waking
 
 94 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 hours she thought only of art. Her enthusiasm 
 for her new profession was so great, that for the 
 pleasure of doing something for those who had 
 chosen such a life, she actually mended the torn 
 blouses of the men employed in the studio, while 
 they were at luncheon. 
 
 They could not understand her motive, and at 
 first were wary of her; but she gradually won their 
 confidence by her quiet, workmanlike manner, and 
 now she was on the best of terms with them all, 
 although as a rule they did not take kindly to stu- 
 dents. They gave her many a useful hint, and often 
 came for her when there was some simple work she 
 could do under their direction. She had a delicate 
 sense of touch, combined with a boldness of method 
 which these rough fellows were not slow to appre- 
 ciate, and they did not fail to remark her progress, 
 nor were they insensible to her beauty and her gra- 
 cious manner. They began to take a pride in her, 
 and over their bread and wine at a neighboring cafe* 
 told their fellow-workmen from the other studios of 
 the beautiful lady with the great talent. 
 
 " Now we help her," said the assistant foreman ; 
 " some day she will have work for all of us ! " And 
 his prophecy was hailed by a chorus of, "Truly, 
 Jacques, truly ! " 
 
 Loreno's common sense told him that the most 
 likely place to learn Mercede's whereabouts would 
 be at her recent home, and consequently he went 
 directly to Rome. The next morning he went to 
 the Count's palazzo and presented his card to the
 
 MADAME ANDRE. 9o 
 
 concierge. This august personage uncovered his 
 head as he read the name of the visitor, and his 
 stately manner seemed to slip from his portly body 
 like a shirt, leaving only his natural servility. The 
 Marquis asked if there were any servants in the 
 Count Ricci's apartment. Yes, there were two. 
 Very well ; the Marquis desired the concierge to 
 accompany him and secure him an interview with 
 them. 
 
 This was easily done ; but, to his disappointment, 
 the servants seemed to know nothing more than 
 that Signora Finelli had caused her luggage to be 
 sent to the railway station and had gone with her 
 child, and without leaving any address. In reply 
 to his minute cross-questioning as to anything un- 
 usual in Signora Finelli's conduct or movements be- 
 fore her departure, neither of the servants could 
 recall any fact worth mentioning, until suddenly the 
 housemaid remembered that the Signora was locked 
 in her room with little Francesco for a day or two 
 just before she left the apartment, but she was only 
 amusing herself making a bust of the child in clay. 
 Oh, yes, the maid had seen it twice, when doing 
 the room, and once again when Signora Finelli 
 fainted. Oh, the faintness was nothing. An old man 
 had come in with the Signora, and the Signora faint- 
 ing suddenly, the man rang the bell and waited until 
 the Signora recovered, when he finished his business 
 and went away ; she thought now that he had come 
 to arrange about the luggage of the Signora. 
 
 Loreno made many inquiries in other directions, 
 among them at the railway station, but without
 
 96 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 success ; still he had learned much. To what city, he 
 asked himself, would Signora Finelli, wishing to study 
 sculpture, naturally betake herself, Rome being out of 
 the question ? He decided against Florence, because 
 of the acquaintance she must have made while there 
 with her husband. Indeed, he could see no object 
 in her remaining in Italy, and there were several 
 strong reasons why she should go to some other 
 country. Paris naturally suggested itself as possess- 
 ing excellent art schools, while it was big enough to 
 hide in. Then he canvassed the rival claims of 
 Vienna, Munich, Berlin, and London, but decided 
 that if Mercede were allured by art, the chances were 
 in favor of her having gone to Paris. 
 
 In any case, to Paris he would go ; the Exposition 
 was now open, and there, if anywhere, he could 
 amuse himself and really try to be less absorbed by 
 Agatha. 
 
 He did not, however, ask himself whether, had the 
 Exposition been in Berlin, he would not have gone to 
 Paris all the same. He avoided that line of thought, 
 for he was. not unconscious of a certain inconsistency 
 in a man's running away from a girl, and then choos- 
 ing a refuge where he should constantly be upon her 
 service. But many another man has turned his back 
 upon desire and looked over his shoulder. 
 
 Among his Parisian friends was the sculptor Ros- 
 sier, at whose studio he had always been a welcome 
 visitor. With the remote chance of learning some- 
 thing about Mercede, he availed himself of his old 
 privilege immediately upon his arrival. M. le Che- 
 valier Rossier, whom he made his confidant, knew
 
 MADAME ANDR& 97 
 
 nothing of such a student in any of the studios ; but 
 M. Rossier seldom paid visits, and the only chance of 
 help from him was through the casual inquiries he 
 might be amiable enough to make among such of his 
 confreres as he was thrown against. Filippo was 
 embarrassed in his search by the desire not to make 
 Mercede's flight a topic of public talk, and he soon 
 found that this need of secrecy practically tied his 
 hands. He had presented cards from M. Rossier in- 
 troducing him to many of the principal studios, and 
 while passing through them used his eyes diligently. 
 He caught no glimpse of any one who resembled 
 Mercede closely enough to give him even a moment 
 of hope. He went to several schools of art and ex- 
 amined the names of the students, but gained no 
 light. He frequented the brasseries of the Latin 
 Quarter, but without result. He never chanced to 
 hear the men of M. de Valro praise the talent of 
 their prodigy, nor had he visited that sculptor's 
 studio, owing to the fact that a few days after his 
 arrival, when M. Rossier, meeting M. de Valro, asked 
 concerning the latter's pupils with an interest that 
 excited his suspicion, M. de Valro mentioned only 
 two blockheads, upon whose dulness he discoursed 
 at serious length. 
 
 M. de Valro, who knew Mercede's story, imme- 
 diately told her of this incident with much glee, and 
 they agreed that the circumstance was suspicious. 
 
 Had M. de Valro been content to leave well enough 
 alone, Loreno might have gone out of Paris without 
 hearing news of Mercede ; but desiring to serve his 
 charming protegee by discovering, if possible, what 
 
 7
 
 98 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 had incited the Chevalier to show this uncommon 
 interest in his neighbor's students, M. de Valro de- 
 cided to pay the Chevalier Rossier a visit. He timed 
 this visit so that M. Rossier should have finished his 
 work, and as an excuse for his call pleaded the affairs 
 of a committee, of which they were both members, 
 connected with the Exposition. 
 
 While the gentlemen were together in M. Rossier's 
 room, Loreno dropped in at the studio to confer again 
 with his friend and counsellor. 
 
 " M. le Chevalier is engaged for the moment," said 
 one of the men. 
 
 "Then I '11 wait here," Loreno replied, seating him- 
 self in a large room, where some of the men were still 
 at work. 
 
 " I 'd send in word that you are here, Monsieur," 
 said the foreman, " but it 's M. de Valro, and they 
 have shut the door." 
 
 " M. de Valro the sculptor ? " 
 
 44 Yes, Monsieur ; but he 's not likely to stay long ; " 
 and the man busied himself at his work. 
 
 44 That," remarked another workman, dryly, " de- 
 pends upon whether M. de Valro is as wild as his 
 men about his new student. They have talked of 
 her for a fortnight, and don't seem to have finished 
 
 yet." 
 
 This sally was greeted with a general laugh : nor 
 was it lost upon Loreno.* 
 
 44 Of ' her ' ? " he said. " Is the new student a 
 woman ? " 
 
 44 Yes, Monsieur," responded the same speaker, the 
 acknowledged wit of the building ; and as he paused,
 
 MADAME ANDRE. 99 
 
 each workman stayed his hand and listened expect- 
 antly. " For beauty, worthy to be the model of M. 
 de Valro's Juno; and for talent, worthy, oh, mon 
 Dieu ! what can I say ? worthy to be blessed daily 
 by her master's smile ! " 
 
 This sally was received with positive enthusiasm. 
 
 " Have any of you seen her? " Loreno asked. 
 
 " ' Seen her ? ' No, Monsieur : in the street she 
 wears a heavy veil ; in the studio they put her under 
 a cage." 
 
 Loreno waited for the merriment to die away. 
 
 " She is French, eh?" he asked as indifferently as 
 he could. 
 
 " I don't know, Monsieur. Does any one ? " and 
 he looked at his comrades. 
 
 " I can't be sure," an old man answered, " but I 
 think some one said she is Spanish." 
 
 " What is her name ? " asked Loreno. 
 
 " Andre", they call her, Madame Andre"." 
 
 " That 's curious Spanish," was the wit's comment. 
 
 "Is she only a student, did you say?" inquired 
 Loreno. 
 
 " That 's all, Monsieur," the wit spoke again ; " be- 
 gan only a month ago, and probably M. de Valro has 
 come to hire this studio for her." 
 
 " In that case," said Loreno, " I don't think I '11 
 wait for M. Rossier ;" and he strolled leisurely toward 
 the door. 
 
 When he reached the street his leisurely manner 
 disappeared, and he strode rapidly toward the studio 
 of M. de Valro. 
 
 " Now is my time," he reasoned. " If she be Mer-
 
 100 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 cede, he is hiding her ; otherwise why did he deceive 
 M. Rossier, and why does she wear a veil ? Should 
 he know I am anxious to see her he might prevent 
 it. Yes, now is my time, while he is away ; it is still 
 light, and she may not have stopped work." 
 
 Arriving at the studio he knocked loudly. 
 
 A workman came in answer. 
 
 "M. de Valro has returned?" 
 
 " Not yet, Monsieur." 
 
 Loreno glanced at his watch. " Humph ! I will 
 go to his room," he said, " and as soon as he comes, 
 mind you tell him that the Marquis Loreno is 
 waiting." 
 
 The peremptory tone and the title smothered the 
 simple fellow's doubts, and doffing his square cap of 
 paper he led the distinguished visitor across a large 
 room full of statues and casts, and thence through 
 several smaller rooms, into one which was evidently 
 the modelling-room of the master. 
 
 " Shall I send for M. de Valro ? " asked the man, 
 placing a chair for Filippo. 
 
 " That is scarcely necessary ; he is with M. Rossier, 
 and will probably come soon. In the mean time I 
 will have a chat with Madame Andre. She has not 
 gone yet ? " 
 
 " No, Monsieur, not yet." 
 
 " Where is Madame ? " 
 
 "In her own room, Monsieur, the second beyond 
 this. Shall I announce M. le Marquis? " 
 
 " No, I '11 announce myself," he said carelessly ; 
 "but don't forget to inform M. de Valro of my 
 arrival."
 
 MADAME ANDRfi. 101 
 
 "Monsieur may rely upon me ; " and opening the 
 door of the adjoining room the man waited for the 
 nobleman to pass. 
 
 Filippo walked without hesitation to the second 
 room beyond and knocked. 
 
 u Entrez," was called in a woman's voice. 
 
 The intruder obeyed, and closing the door behind 
 him, stood in the presence of a young woman of 
 striking height and beautj r , whose large black eyes 
 regarded him with surprise. She had a silk handker- 
 chief of bright colors bound about her head, and wore 
 a blue blouse to protect her dress. 
 
 " She looks like a gypsy queen," thought Loreno, 
 as he went toward her. 
 
 Regarding him calmly she waited to hear his 
 business. 
 
 " I think I have the pleasure of addressing the 
 Signora Finelli," said Loreno, in Italian. 
 
 Her dark eyes opened and her figure reached its 
 full height. 
 
 " Who are you, sir ? " she demanded. 
 
 " The Marquis Loreno. I come in the name of 
 your cousin, the Signorina Page." 
 
 The artist's eyes closed slightly, and she watched 
 the stranger without replying. He bore her scrutiny 
 stoically, noting the quick impulses recorded by the 
 expressive face, and gave her time to think. She was 
 evidently disconcerted, and uncertain what to do. 
 
 " Why do you intrude upon me?" she demanded 
 finally. 
 
 " Out of consideration for those to whom you sent 
 your letter."
 
 102 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " You have made a mistake, sir ; my name is 
 Andre*." 
 
 " Is your father not the Count Rieci ? " was the 
 firm inquiry. 
 
 The dark eyes flashed with sudden fury, and the 
 full lips trembled. 
 
 " That, sir, is my affair, not yours. I decline to 
 submit to this impertinence." And pointing haugh- 
 tily toward the door, she added, " Leave the room ! " 
 
 Loreno bowed slightly. " Signora," he said, "you 
 have a perfect right to dismiss me, and I will go; 
 you will permit me, however, to add that I have no 
 further reason to remain, since my only object was to 
 assure myself that you are well, and not in need of 
 friends." 
 
 She had supposed he came to upbraid her, and if 
 possible to compel her to return to Rome, therefore 
 the spirit of his answer perplexed her. 
 
 " But I do not know you, sir," and her tone was 
 less imperious. 
 
 " That is scarcely my fault, Signora ; " his face was 
 lit by a faint smile, " and I have little encouragement 
 to try again." 
 
 " What I are you an amateur detective ? " she 
 asked scornfully. 
 
 " I should rather say a house-breaker," he replied 
 amiably. 
 
 She was in no humor for banter, and her softer 
 mood vanished. She tapped her foot impatiently. 
 
 " This is no time, sir, for nonsense," she exclaimed, 
 " and I will speak plainly and finally. I am the 
 daughter of Count Ricci ; I have for reasons of my
 
 MADAME ANDRE. 103 
 
 own come to Paris ; I do not intend to leave, and I 
 will not be hunted down like an escaped convict." 
 
 Loreno's face was now grave enough. 
 
 " No one questions your right to be in Paris," he 
 responded ; " no one intends to trouble you. One 
 who loves you is anxious concerning your safety and 
 happiness, and this is the reason for my visit." 
 
 His pacific words calmed her again. 
 
 " You mean my father, of course." 
 
 " No, Signora ; I do not represent the Count, only 
 your cousin." 
 
 The effect of this declaration was twofold. While 
 relieved that her father had no intention of embarrass- 
 ing her new ambition, she resented his apparent indif- 
 ference to her flight. 
 
 " I might have known that my father would not 
 trouble himself about me," was her bitter comment. 
 
 " How about your cousin ? " he ventured. 
 
 She remained silent for some time, and when she 
 spoke her voice and manner were changed. 
 
 " I am not indifferent to my cousin's good inten- 
 tion," she said calmly, "and you may tell her that I 
 am well, where you found me, and what I am doing. 
 But tell her, also, not to come here, nor to send to me 
 again ; " she hesitated, and then added resolutely, 
 " for I have done with the past ! " 
 
 " And with the past you mean that you renounce 
 your father and your cousin." 
 
 " It is necessary ! " and her voice was hard. 
 
 His thoughts flew to Agatha. " It is inhuman ! " 
 he exclaimed indignantly, " and if you really mean it, 
 you will live to regret it."
 
 104 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 She was aroused again, and laughed scornfully. 
 
 " I '11 risk that." 
 
 " Risk it, risk what ?" The words which followed 
 were spoken slowly and impressively. " You propose 
 to stake everything upon your health, your chance of 
 success, and the rapture success will bring ; heedless of 
 conscience, indifferent to proved love, risking even the 
 future of your own child. Believe me, Madam, few 
 gamblers would be so reckless ! " 
 
 " Mere words ! " she sneered. Then her eyes half 
 closed and she spoke vehemently : " Why should I 
 fear conscience ? Am I not more sinned against than 
 sinning, dishonored by my father and deceived by 
 my husband ? You call me indifferent to proved love ! 
 Who loves me ? Who merits my consideration ? " 
 
 "Agatha Page!" 
 
 She stood silent, with her hands clenched ; presently 
 the fingers opened, and she folded her hands before 
 her. 
 
 " Agatha has been true to me," she said, as though 
 thinking aloud. 
 
 " And is true still ; what motive under Heaven 
 except the knowledge of her great love for you would 
 have impelled me to come here ? However, it is best 
 now that I should go." 
 
 " Wait a moment," she said quickly, as he moved 
 toward the door. " I wish to think." 
 
 He turned and waited for her to speak. She was 
 evidently considering something which troubled her, 
 for her face grew anxious. 
 
 " What do you mean," she asked, " by what you 
 said about my child, about risking his future ? "
 
 MADAME ANDRE. 105 
 
 "Even should his material interests not suffer, he 
 will, by your act, be cut off from the position your 
 family would give him, and his future thus be greatly 
 handicapped." 
 
 44 He should be willing to sacrifice something for 
 the sake of his mother's pride." 
 
 " For your sake I hope he will be, but " 
 
 " Well, I '11 risk even that," she declared. 
 
 " Very well, Madam ; I have nothing more to say." 
 
 " One moment ! " 
 
 " I cannot wait any longer," he replied. " M. de 
 Valro is likely to come in upon us at any moment. I 
 am a stranger to him, and must be prepared to meet 
 him." 
 
 " He is coming now," she whispered hastily ; and 
 Loreno heard footsteps approaching the door. " I '11 
 present you as a friend of mine ; stay until he goes. 
 I can't decide anything at this moment." 
 
 The door opened and a small man with bushy gray 
 hair and pointed beard entered. He looked at 
 Loreno curiously, and then came forward. 
 
 Mercede presented the Marquis as though he were 
 an old friend. 
 
 It was so amiable of M. le Marquis to come, the 
 sculptor declared with much effusion, and he should 
 never forgive himself for not having been in his 
 studio to receive Monsieur; but he consoled himself 
 because Monsieur had been able to find their common 
 friend Madame Andre". 
 
 Filippo was not to be outdone, and apologized for 
 his intrusion in the master's absence ; and then the 
 two gentlemen bowed again and eyed each other
 
 106 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 suspiciously. After a little general conversation which 
 dragged wofully, the sculptor excused himself, saying 
 that such old friends must have much to say to each 
 other. 
 
 Mercede did not speak until the sound of his foot- 
 steps had died away. 
 
 " How did my cousin come to consult you about 
 this affair ? " she asked. 
 
 Then Filippo gave her a brief account of the cir- 
 cumstances, and while Mercede listened she found 
 herself modifying the unfavorable judgment she had 
 formed of him. A few more questions enabled her to 
 place him socially, for she knew his sister by name, 
 and was familiar with his family history, although she 
 had never happened to meet Filippo during her short 
 Roman season. 
 
 She felt decidedly less aggrieved at the intrusion of 
 the young Marquis, now that she understood his mo- 
 tive, and with a woman's intuition having jumped 
 at a just estimate of the relations which existed be- 
 tween him and her lovely cousin, she began to feel 
 even kindly toward him. She tried by suavity of 
 manner to make amends for her previous behavior, 
 and her success was rapid ; because Loreno not only 
 failed to resent her indignation, but thought it not 
 extraordinary, considering the cause he had given 
 her. 
 
 " You have n't done me the honor of even glancing 
 at my work," she said, smiling; "if you are indifferent, 
 my cousin may not be so." 
 
 " On the contrary," he protested, " I am most eager 
 to see it."
 
 MADAME ANDRE. 107 
 
 He stepped before, her work and examined it criti- 
 cally. She was copying a head of Goethe. 
 
 " The original is in Weimar, is it not ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I really don't know ; I found the cast here and 
 was fascinated by it." 
 
 " It is my favorite bust of Goethe, and you are 
 making an admirable copy." 
 
 "Is it not a beautiful, a fascinating face?" she 
 exclaimed rapturously. "Do you suppose it is like 
 him ? " 
 
 "Somewhat idealized probably, but still a likeness." 
 
 She gazed upon the bust for fully a minute before 
 speaking, her large eyes full of light, her face bearing 
 the intensity which often distinguished it. Presently 
 she turned to her companion. "Think," she said, 
 " what a delight it must have been actually to look 
 upon such a man and hear him speak. Is there any 
 Italian or French translation of his works?" 
 
 " Oh, certainly ; " and he mentioned the best in 
 each language. 
 
 " Let me write down the names." 
 
 This she did with a girlish enthusiasm quite in 
 contrast with her usual maturity of manner. 
 
 " What a superb creature ! " she exclaimed, as she 
 stood again in rapt admiration before the poet. " I 
 can't imagine such a man ever doubting the strength 
 of his genius, can you ? " 
 
 " No, I don't suppose Goethe ever truly doubted the 
 strength of his genius. Yet such natures, you know, 
 live among the clouds ; and it is but natural that they 
 should sometimes lose sight of their broad horizon, and 
 even wonder if they are ever to see it again."
 
 108 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 She listened eagerly to his words, applying them to 
 herself; but her only answer was a trembling sigh. 
 
 Her ambition was intense and her self-confidence 
 unlimited ; it was easy to stimulate her by praise, but 
 it would have been impossible to shake her conviction 
 that she had a great career before her. True, she 
 had occasional trepidation, intense while it lasted but 
 sure to pass, for the feeling was but superficial, the 
 result of temperament, not of consciousness. " The 
 book is written to be read now or by posterity, I 
 care not which," calmly wrote John Kepler. " I can 
 well wait a century for a reader, since God has waited 
 six thousand years for a discoverer." And yet who 
 that is familiar with his life can doubt that John 
 Kepler suffered days and even weeks of apprehension 
 while he was gathering immortality from the stars ? 
 There are natures as far above the plane of common 
 comprehension as the planets are above the earth. 
 Their light shines down upon us and we gaze up to 
 them, while our wise men gravely weigh and measure 
 and compare them, even mark their spots and count 
 their satellites. But after all, the strongest telescope 
 has failed as yet to pierce a planet. 
 
 Mercede sighed ; but whatever the cause, it was 
 not from consciousness of being ordained to dwell 
 unto death in the land of Moab.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 AT THE VILLA D' ESTE. 
 
 BOTH Agatha and her uncle considered carefully 
 the suggestion which Loreno had made to each in 
 behalf of the other regarding the benefit of a change 
 of scene. 
 
 Agatha confessed to herself that personally she 
 would welcome a change, for she was thoroughly un- 
 happy and restless. Yet she acknowledged that the 
 Brianza had never been more beautiful than now, 
 and that the opportunities for pleasure and usefulness 
 which had before occupied her time still existed. 
 She did the same old things, visited the familiar spots, 
 called on the sick and aided the poor. But the old- 
 time joy was gone out from these things, and her na- 
 ture yearned for something which her eyes seemed to 
 seek in the shadows of the distant Alps or among the 
 stars. But she shrank from suggesting a journey to 
 her uncle lest he might divine her wish to get away. 
 She could not propose to take him where he must 
 mix with the world whether he would or no. The 
 General, on his part, only hesitated to make the sug- 
 gestion, thinking that perfect quiet and the old asso- 
 ciations would do more for Agatha than change of 
 scene with its attendant bustle and discomfort. She
 
 110 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 appeared to go about her customary occupations as 
 usual, but he saw that she did not regain her color. 
 Therefore he decided to sink his own preference for 
 home in his duty to her, provided Padre Sacconi 
 should agree with Loreno that she needed a change. 
 He sent for the priest, with the result that he took 
 occasion, that same day at dinner, to suggest a trip. 
 
 Agatha received the idea with unfeigned delight, 
 supposing that he made it on his own behalf; and 
 they occupied the remainder of the day studying 
 guide-books and examining maps, with a view to a 
 little trip into Switzerland by way of the Italian 
 lakes. 
 
 " But," said the Count, " we don't want to go 
 alone ; we need a party." 
 
 In making this proposal the old gentleman was 
 truly unselfish, for the last thing in the world that he 
 desired was to have strangers about him. Agatha 
 felt that her own preference ought not to count 
 against that of her uncle, and therefore she heartily 
 seconded his suggestion, and against both their wills 
 they blindly determined to invite the Duke Faviola 
 and his family to accompany them. 
 
 The next morning the General drove over to see 
 the Duchess and unfold the plan. She received it 
 with surprise, but was not averse to the idea, and 
 agreed to consult the Duke about it, and late in the 
 afternoon sent a note to the Villa Ricci acceding to 
 the proposition. Thereupon, to Agatha's increasing 
 astonishment, her uncle bade her invite the Duke 
 and Duchess to luncheon the following day, that the 
 trip might be talked over and its details arranged.
 
 AT THE VILLA D' ESTE. Ill 
 
 On the morrow, therefore, the plans were com- 
 pleted. The party was to leave in the General's 
 coach two clays later ; drive as far as the Villa d' Este, 
 on Lake Como ; remain there until the early part of 
 the following week ; then drive to Varese, and after a 
 few days go on to Lake Maggiore. Whether the 
 Count should send his horses back from Stresa, or 
 drive the party over the Simplon Pass into Switzer- 
 land, was left to be determined by circumstances. 
 
 On the day appointed, having made an early start, 
 they reached Como before the heat of the sun was 
 oppressive, and skirting the lower end of the lake 
 went gayly toward Cernobbio. 
 
 The Count Ricci drove the four-in-hand, with 
 Gaeta beside him. Agatha sat with the Duchess, 
 and the Duke was facing them. The bells upon the 
 harness and the merry notes of the horn cleared the 
 way of small vehicles, and the spirited horses whirled 
 the coach steadily over the smooth road. 
 
 " By the bye," remarked the Duchess, " I received 
 a letter from my brother yesterday, and he asked to 
 be remembered to you ; he is in Paris, and seems 
 to be enjoying himself immensely." 
 
 "The Exposition must be very interesting," 
 Agatha ventured. 
 
 " He does n't say much about that. He has ap- 
 parently been devoting himself to the studios." 
 
 Agatha's heart beat fast and she did not trust her- 
 self to speak. 
 
 "Perhaps I have the letter in here," the Duchess 
 said, opening her hand-bag. " Ah, no, I put it in my 
 pocket. Ecco! it may amuse you."
 
 112 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Agatha opened it with peculiar sensations. She 
 knew the characters well, for she had studied every 
 slant and twist in the translation Filippo had written 
 for her. She read the letter deliberately, and with 
 keen admiration for its tripping naturalness ; but one 
 passage she read with special interest; it ran as 
 follows : 
 
 " When I came to Paris, I had only a dim hope of meet- 
 ing a certain artist who had left Rome, but for what part 
 of the world I had no way of learning. This is but the 
 fourteenth day since I left you, and yet already the artist 
 referred to and I have twice gone together to the Expo- 
 sition. When I mentioned the strange chance which had 
 favored me, my friend asked if on the day which brought 
 us together I had brushed against a hunchback ; and I 
 recalled the fact that I had been so fortunate about that 
 time, and I believed it was upon that very morning." 
 
 Agatha had no smile for this popular Italian 
 superstition, but re-read the passage with great 
 earnestness. 
 
 " He does n't really say whether this artist is a 
 man or a woman," she said musingly, and with a wild 
 hope that it might be Mercede. 
 
 " Does n't he ? Let me see." The Duchess sus- 
 pected that Agatha was a little jealous, and having 
 examined the passage critically, thought to comfort 
 her. 
 
 " You are right, he does n't," she confessed ; " but 
 it 's accidental, for if it were a woman, why should n't 
 he say so, especially to me, with whom he is always 
 so frank?" But all the same she thought Loreno
 
 AT THE VILLA V ESTE. 113 
 
 had gone out of his way to avoid mentioning the sex 
 of his friend. 
 
 "I merely observed the fact," Agatha responded, 
 trying to hide her excitement behind a smile arid a 
 careless manner. 
 
 The horses left the highway, and the coach rolled 
 past the lodge at the entrance of the Villa d' Este 
 grounds, winding through a charming grove, to the 
 imposing building which had once been the home of 
 a Buonaparte, and in which the great Emperor had 
 been entertained. 
 
 They found that the salon of the apartment re- 
 served for them opened upon a balcony from which 
 they could look into the clear water of the lake. 
 There were easy-chairs upon it, and an awning pro- 
 tected it from the sun. Here they soon gathered 
 and were refreshed with granitas. 
 
 "Where shall we have our meals?" asked the 
 General. "The ladies must decide." 
 
 "I vote for the table d'hSte," said the Duchess. 
 ' v ' It 's amusing, at least for a few days ; don't you 
 think so, Agatha ? " 
 
 " Yes, by all means the table d'hote ; we have come 
 for diversion, and that's the place for it." 
 
 So when luncheon was announced they went to 
 the public dining-room. Agatha sat between the 
 Duchess and her uncle, and upon glancing around 
 the table saw that the guests were principally fo- 
 restieri, the majority of whom were English or 
 American. 
 
 Opposite her sat a gentleman, tall and lean, whose 
 age was from thirty-five to forty, but whose fringe of 
 
 8
 
 114 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 closely-cropped hair, encircling his small burnished 
 head, was prematurely white, suggesting chalk- 
 cliffs around a peaceful bay. His short beard also 
 was quite gray, and his voice, when he addressed 
 his neighbor, seemed to Agatha almost as neutral. 
 His skin was fresh and soft, his manner studiously 
 prim, but his eyes were small and black and bright. 
 His name was Dow Mr. Peter Dow, formerly of 
 Boston, U. S. A., where he had made a snug for- 
 tune in trade, which enabled him to come abroad and 
 establish his headquarters in Rome, " nice old 
 Rome," as he was wont to apostrophize her, " where 
 one sees everybody, and yet is able to pick and 
 choose." 
 
 Mr. Dow had no prejudice against America; indeed, 
 he recognized, and upon occasion acknowledged, the 
 solidity of her commercial claims ; but in America, 
 or rather in the only spot of that excellent country 
 where a gentleman would care to be born, he found 
 that the picking and choosing were not left to one 
 who had no grandfather or father whom any one 
 really knew. This fact he fully accepted, nor did 
 he resent it ; on the contrary, he thoroughly approved 
 of the spirit upon which it rested, and in the relations 
 which he was carefully establishing in the Old World, 
 he studiously applied the pick-and-choose principle 
 which had driven him from the New World. There 
 was no more rigid social disciplinarian in Rome than 
 Mr. Peter Dow ; he was a veritable martinet in the 
 matter of birth, and had been decidedly wary of his 
 neighbor (a practical middle-aged Englishwoman of 
 quick, nervous manner, whose words shot from her
 
 AT THE VILLA D' ESTE. 115 
 
 tongue like peas blown from a tube) until he over- 
 heard her say that Lady Croftly, of Croftly Manor, 
 was coming down from Menaggio to pass the next 
 day with her. 
 
 Mr. Dow had been scanning the hotel register, 
 and was deeply sensible of the possibility which now 
 presented itself, of making the very desirable acquain- 
 tance of some real aristocrats of Rome. But there 
 was a serious drawback ; for among the names of 
 the new arrivals he had read that of plain "Miss 
 Agatha Page," and the golden-haired, reserved-look- 
 ing girl opposite, was undoubtedly she. Her presence 
 made him suspicious of the whole party. He be- 
 lieved himself inclined toward impulse, and as he had 
 an almost morbid fear of becoming the slave of any 
 habit, he rigidly disciplined himself against acquiring 
 the habit of acting without proper prudence. His 
 experience in life had taught him that haste was 
 disadvantageous nine times in ten. Indeed, he had 
 formulated a maxim which he -held in great respect, 
 " Often the quickest way of getting there, is to sit 
 down." Moreover, his experience in Italy had taught 
 him that titles were too abundant to be taken without 
 ringing. 
 
 Mr. Dow's intuition that he was impulsive was not 
 without foundation ; but his impulse took a form 
 upon which, curiously enough, he prided himself. 
 In other words, Mr. Dow had a settled habit of 
 jumping to conclusions, which habit he cherished 
 as sagacity. 
 
 His first glance told him that this young girl was 
 probably English, more than likely of the middle
 
 116 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 class ; her father in trade, as a matter of course. Or, 
 if she were American, her home was in New York, or 
 possibly Philadelphia, but certainly not in Boston ; 
 for he knew all the Pages of Boston, at least he 
 knew all about them, and there was n't an unmar- 
 ried Page girl of her age, unless of the Springfield 
 branch, and he was inclined to think that the Spring- 
 field Pages had sent their eldest girls to Vassar, while 
 this girl must have been in Italy a long time to be 
 able to talk Italian so fluently as she was now doing 
 with the Duchess. She could n't be the sister of the 
 Duchess, that his sharp little eyes told him ; and his 
 ears discovered presently that she was called " Miss 
 Agatha " by the child, and plain " Agatha " by the 
 old man, who was registered as a general, probably 
 the father of the Duchess. He believed this girl to 
 be either the companion of the Duchess, or the gov- 
 erness of the child. Her dress was unquestionably 
 simple, which indicated companion ; but her face, 
 while certainly lovely, was intelligent, and probably 
 meant governess. The marked courtesy with which 
 the Duke treated her was not lost upon Mr. Dow, and 
 he forthwith decided that the Duke was a thorough 
 Italian, which meant that in certain respects he 
 was no better than he should be. Take it all in all, 
 the party was one to be watched carefully for future 
 developments, as their acquaintance might prove to 
 be a fair business risk. 
 
 While these judgments were forming, a young man 
 entered the dining-room, and passing behind Mr. Dow 
 took his place near the head of the table. Agatha's 
 eyes followed him with interest. He was evidently
 
 AT THE VILLA D' ESTE. 117 
 
 an Italian, a Neapolitan, she thought, when she 
 heard him address a gentleman opposite him. His age 
 was about twenty, yet his face, when in repose, seemed 
 older. Its expression was frank, and the features told 
 plainly that he was keenly sensitive and proud. His 
 manner was courteous, even elegant ; his eyes were 
 large and brown, and showed a high degree of sen- 
 sibility ; his hair would not admit of parting, and like 
 his delicate beard and mustache curled tightly. His 
 teeth were noticeably good, and altogether, he was a 
 decidedly handsome and refined-looking young fellow. 
 Agatha's admiration was not like that which she felt 
 for Loreno's stronger, more virile beauty; it possessed, 
 rather, the abstract quality which one bestows upon 
 a portrait. 
 
 On their balcony after luncheon the party chatted 
 about their neighbors, and Agatha drew upon herself 
 the mild chaffing of the others by her partiality for 
 the young Italian. 
 
 In the quiet of the afternoon Agatha and the 
 Duchess went for a walk, and while following a path 
 which stretched up the wooded hill behind the hotel, 
 came upon a fountain, surmounted by a colossal statue 
 of Hercules, from which a broad band of velvet grass 
 swept like an unwound scroll to the terrace overhang- 
 ing the lake. A long flight of stone steps bordered 
 this scroll on either side, each balustrade forming an 
 aqueduct to guide the overflow of the generou.s foun- 
 tain to a large basin of gold-fish far below ; and drops 
 of rushing water sometimes leaped over these shallow 
 channels and sprinkled the unwary climber. 
 
 They stood for some moments looking upon the
 
 118 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 lake and the mountains bordering its opposite shore, 
 until the Duchess turned at the sound of a footstep 
 behind her. The young Italian stood near, gazing 
 with delight upon the same scene. 
 
 " Come, Agatha," said the Duchess in Italian, " let 
 us look for the Grotto." 
 
 Agatha turned. " Do you know the way ? " 
 
 " No ; but it is above us somewhere." 
 
 " That seems a trifle indefinite." 
 
 The Duchess glanced at the young stranger, and 
 after hesitating an instant, asked if he could direct 
 them. 
 
 He lifted his hat and seemed to be thinking. "In 
 truth, Signora," he said, "there are so many inter- 
 secting paths that it is a little difficult to direct you ; 
 but if you will permit I will accompany you." 
 
 " I do not like to trouble you." 
 
 "It will be a pleasure ; pray permit me," and he led 
 the way. 
 
 " You must have been here for some time," re- 
 marked the Duchess to their guide, " to know your 
 way so well." 
 
 As he turned his face Agatha was confirmed in 
 her favorable impression. 
 
 " I have been here a week," he said, "and the Park, 
 like any other puzzle, is not difficult to make out 
 when once } r ou know it." 
 
 The Duchess gave him one of her bright smiles. 
 *' Pardon me," she said, " but you speak like a 
 Neapolitan." 
 
 " I was born in Calabria," he said simply, " but I 
 have been much in Naples."
 
 AT THE VILLA Z>' ESTE. 119 
 
 " I am very fond of Naples," was her answer. " My 
 husband and I often go there for the opera season." 
 Something in his face led her to add, " You are fond 
 of music." 
 
 He became grave. " Sometimes," he replied. 
 
 " ' Sometimes ' ? That is a strange answer." 
 
 " Still, it is a true one." And as he spoke his face 
 was almost sad. Then as they turned a sharp bend 
 he added, "Ecco, Signora! the Grotto." 
 
 The entrance was formed by two columns, one of 
 granite, the other of large stones roughly put together 
 surmounted by a rich capital, the whole well cov- 
 ered with ivy. It looked black and uninviting, and 
 the ladies held back. 
 
 " You will find it interesting and quite safe," said 
 their escort, " and you may explore it without fear." 
 
 " What do you think, Agatha ? " and the elder lady 
 turned doubtfully. 
 
 " It looks ghoulish," Agatha replied. 
 
 " Let us explore it to-morrow with one of the gen- 
 tlemen," suggested the Duchess. 
 
 " As you choose. Still, it's absurd to be afraid, 
 let us see it now." 
 
 The youth stood waiting to bid them adieu, but 
 seeing their hesitation, proffered his further services 
 as their guide. 
 
 " But we are imposing upon you," protested the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " Pray don't think so, Signora," was the courteous 
 reply. " Permit me to enter ; I have a box of tapers 
 and will strike one." 
 
 In a moment the cave was illuminated, and they
 
 120 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 entered boldly, and by means of the tapers went easily 
 through the various passages and chambers, connected 
 by stone steps. The general effect was of cloisters ; 
 and among its other chambers was a little chapel 
 lighted by a dome, while in the stalactite passages 
 were round windows of red glass through which the 
 light from without struggled uncertainly. There were 
 also Gothic windows, overtopped with ivy, opening 
 into courts containing stone busts upon pedestals, 
 and in the centre of one of these courts stood a grim 
 obelisk. Presently they came out again into the 
 daylight, some yards higher than the entrance. 
 
 The young guide had duly pointed out the various 
 objects of interest, and both ladies thanked him 
 warmly as he left them. 
 
 An hour later, as they entered the broad corridor 
 of the hotel, the sound of a piano reached them, and 
 walking to the music-room, they glanced in to see 
 who the performer was. To their surprise they 
 saw the young Italian. He played superbly ; a rich 
 strong personality coloring each phrase. 
 
 When he had finished, Agatha went forward im- 
 pulsively. 
 
 " Oh, thank you ! " she said, with a gratitude so 
 sincere that the musician Hushed with pleasure. 
 " How wonderfully you play Schumann ! " 
 
 "I have only recently taken up Schumann," he 
 said, " but I feel a peculiar sympathy with his music ; 
 you know the Novelette ? " 
 
 "Yes, but I never before understood it; I never 
 before heard its majesty and its aching coldness so 
 brought out. You are indeed an artist I "
 
 AT THE VILLA D' ESTE. 121 
 
 " I am a piano-teacher," he replied, an expression of 
 sadness crossing his face, " and that kills the artist." 
 Then looking up brightly he added, " But you also 
 are musical, Signorina ? " 
 
 " I am fond of music," was the answer. 
 
 " The Signorina plays the violin beautifully," said 
 the Duchess, who had followed Agatha to the 
 piano. 
 
 His expressive face grew wistful, yet he said noth- 
 ing. Agatha interpreted his silence correctly. 
 
 " I will play to you willingly," she said, " if you 
 will give me the pleasure of hearing you again." 
 
 In her judgment social barriers were levelled 
 by art. 
 
 The rich color of the musician's face deepened, 
 and the eyes lost their habitual hauteur. He was 
 surprised and touched, for aristocratic Romans, like 
 their cousins over the broad earth, are, with rare 
 exceptions, prone to exalt blood above brains. 
 
 " I shall hold myself at your command, Signorina," 
 were his words. 
 
 Agatha thanked him, and at the suggestion of the 
 Duchess it was agreed that in the evening they 
 should meet again in the music-room. 
 
 Thus it happened that while Mr. Peter Dow was 
 drinking his after-dinner coffee upon the terrace he 
 heard the piano, and peering in at the open window 
 discovered the perplexing English girl sitting near 
 the Italian music-teacher, while the other members 
 of her party were gathered around the instrument. 
 Presently he saw her take a violin, and begin to 
 play.
 
 122 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " It 's as plain as the writing on the wall," he mut- 
 tered. '"Governess, either resident or daily, compe- 
 tent to teach Latin, Greek, Hindu, or Zulu, French, 
 German, mathematics, and needlework. Special at- 
 tention given to deportment and music. A good 
 home more desired than a large salary; willing to 
 go abroad.' Lord bless my soul ! you read of a 
 dozen just like her in every copy of the London 
 ' Times.' And now she has found a congenial spirit. 
 It 's ten to three she 's not friend but governess, 
 and I think I '11 risk their acquaintance." 
 
 Thereupon he went into- the room and seated him- 
 self near the General, with whom presently he started 
 a conversation. Mr. Dow, while eccentric, was rather 
 nimble of wit, and possessing also an amiable per- 
 sonality succeeded in making a good impression 
 upon his companion. Conscious of this, he reflected 
 with satisfaction that he held in reserve an effective 
 characteristic ; namely, the knack of embc41ishing his 
 social intercourse with apt poetic quotation. Gifted 
 with an excellent memory, and ambitious to take 
 the taste of trade out of his mouth ; desirous, more- 
 over, of affecting a habit of mind which was the 
 farthest possible remove from that which the Eu- 
 ropean world ascribes to the practical American ; 
 touched, perhaps, by the knowledge that culture is 
 commonly associated with the city of his birth, he 
 permitted himself much license in the reading of 
 poetry, and was sometimes fearful that his propensity 
 to quote apt titbits was really becoming a habit. 
 
 When the music was over, the two gentlemen 
 strolled into the air together. Presently the Duke
 
 AT THE VILLA D' ESTE. 123 
 
 joined them, and ere the group parted, Mr. Dow felt 
 that he had laid a firm foundation for a friendship 
 which should prove serviceable to him. The conver- 
 sation had not been personal, and therefore he had 
 discovered nothing concerning Miss Page's position, 
 but he hoped for more light on the morrow.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 LUITELLO. 
 
 THE moonbeams lay lightly on Lake Como ; the 
 air was sweet, the sky unclouded, and the distant 
 glimmer of lights upon the mountains opposite Cer- 
 nobbio seemed a reflection of the glowing planets. 
 The calm silence was broken only by the swash of 
 the gentle waves, the occasional sound of an oar, or 
 the mellow exclamation of a nightingale. 
 
 Upon the terrace overhanging the lake, a short 
 distance from the hotel, sat the Faviolas, the Count 
 Ricci and Agatha, Signor Veltri the young musician, 
 and Mr. Peter Dow. They had sauntered here to 
 enjoy the night, and for many minutes no one luul 
 spoken. 
 
 Agatha was seated upon a low vine-covered wall, 
 watching the waves as they touched its base, and 
 wondering why she should feel depressed upon such 
 a night. The scene should be restful and calming. 
 Yet she felt the quick tears in her eyes, and turned 
 her face farther away from the moonlight lest her 
 mood should be betrayed to her uncle, who was 
 standing near her. The others were resting upon 
 two long benches set back a little from the wall, and 
 while they missed the full path of the moonlight upon
 
 LU1TELLO. 125 
 
 the water, they were recompensed by the greater 
 comfort. 
 
 " What a night for music ! " said Signer Veltri in 
 a low voice. 
 
 " Perfect," answered the Duchess ; and turning to 
 her husband, she added, "Shall I send Gaeta for 
 Agatha's violin? She might feel like playing if it 
 were placed in her hands." 
 
 " It would be charming ; I will go with Gaeta ; " 
 and he walked away with his child. 
 
 " A night like this makes a man of my age thought- 
 ful," said the Count Ricci. 
 
 " It makes any one thoughtful," Agatha replied. 
 
 "But I mean something more ; its quiet suggests 
 the future." 
 
 " Its peace seems to me quite as marked as its quiet." 
 
 " Did you ever think, my dear, what different trains 
 of thought such a scene suggests to one like you and 
 to an old man like me ? We both look into that streak 
 of moonlight yonder, and wonder about the future ; 
 but your question is who ? mine whither ? " 
 
 "The answer to both depends upon the Divine 
 sympathy." 
 
 He pulled at his cigar in silence for several mo- 
 ments. "That is true," he said, "that is true; but 
 what lies beyond ? We look into the sky, and power- 
 less as we are to change the course of a star, still we 
 can follow it. We look at the earth, and while unable 
 to unravel its mysteries, we expect confidently the 
 return of the grass and the flowers ; yet my fellow- 
 man disappears and the mystery is complete, neither
 
 126 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 his body nor his soul is ever known to me again. 
 What is there beyond ? Some persons guess and 
 some assert, but no one proves anything." 
 
 " The very fact that puzzles you, I think, proves 
 something. It proves that your fellow-man goes on- 
 ward instead of following a circle ; and as life comes 
 from the sun, I love to think that in other worlds 
 nearer the sun, where the conditions for growth are 
 more powerful, germs of good within our souls will 
 be unfolded that will make us more acceptable in the 
 sight of God." 
 
 "Your theory has at least the merit of hope- 
 giving," the Count remarked. " But you believe in 
 future punishment ? " 
 
 " Certainly, for Christ declared it ; but I go no 
 further : I simply have confidence that it will be with 
 a wise purpose, and therefore not malignant or eter- 
 nal. I believe it will be through repentance, as the 
 development of the good in us increases our abhor- 
 rence of that which has been and is evil in us. Yet 
 to whatever spot in God's universe He calls our freed 
 souls, be sure, dear uncle, it is nearer the source of 
 all that is most beautiful in Nature and in man. He 
 calls us to Himself, and will punish us for past dis- 
 obedience, as He has foretold ; but He does not call 
 us to feed an unholy desire for revenge, or to rejoice 
 the heart of Satan. I cannot believe it of him who 
 said, ' I, if I be lifted up from the earth, will draw 
 all men unto me.' " 
 
 " Miss Agatha," said Gaeta, placing the violin-case 
 in her hands, " won't you play to us ? "
 
 LUITELLO. 127 
 
 " Willingly," she replied ; and taking the instru- 
 ment she presently began the gentle strains of 
 Mignon's song, " Knowest thou the Land ? " 
 
 As she finished playing and stood looking far off 
 into the lake, the moonlight falling upon her face and 
 white dress, no one spoke, and after a brief pause she 
 raised her violin to its place and began the sweet 
 strain of " Du bist die Ruh'." A boat glided into the 
 track of the moon and she saw the oarsman held mo- 
 tionless by the spell of her bow. Endowing him for 
 the moment with another's personality, she played 
 to him, and to him alone. As she finished the last 
 strain he dipped his oars softly and passed into the 
 shadow. Her imagination was stirred ; the conceit 
 pleased her mood, and as if to follow him into the 
 shadow and arrest his course, she turned slightly 
 toward him and began the song by Mendelssohn 
 that Loreno had translated for her. She played 
 the first verse with growing fervor, repeating the 
 words mentally, and after a moment's pause began 
 the second verse, when, to her amazement, the rich 
 tones of a man's voice rose like a bell from the deep 
 shadow below her. He was singing the melody with 
 the German words, and her heart gave a mighty 
 bound. When the verse was finished and the sing- 
 ing ceased, Agatha repeated the short song from 
 beginning to end, with a tenderness that electrified 
 every listener. 
 
 In the moment of silence that followed, she heard 
 the sound of retreating oars. The others had left 
 their places at the sound of the stranger's voice, and 
 gathered about her.
 
 128 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " He sang it beautifully, but you played it marvel- 
 lously ! " exclaimed Signer Veltri. 
 
 " I wonder who he is ? " said Mr. Dow. " Did you 
 notice that he sang in German ? " 
 
 Agatha turned away, and the Duchess felt that she 
 must rush to the rescue. 
 
 " Luitello, of course," she answered confidently. 
 
 " ' Luitello ' ! " said the General, anxiously, " who 
 is he ? " 
 
 The Duchess laughed. 
 
 " Don't you remember who Luitello was ? " and 
 she thought rapidly as she asked, " who will enlighten 
 the Count ? Can you, Mr. Dow ? " 
 
 "It sounds like a name I've heard somewhere," 
 he rejoined. 
 
 She again laughed quietly, but remained silent for 
 a moment. 
 
 " I 'm afraid I must tell his story myself," she said ; 
 " but first come back- to our bench." 
 
 They settled themselves comfortably, and the 
 Duchess began : 
 
 " Many years ago or, to be exact, the year Apollo 
 was born the beautiful Queen of the Nymphs in- 
 habiting the Brianza from the shores of Lecco to 
 Como, was carried to Delos by command of Juno, 
 to excite the jealousy of the vain Themis, who had 
 incurred her displeasure. 
 
 " The nymphs were unable to agree who should be 
 their new queen, and hearing that Neptune was at 
 Olympus attending an assembly of the gods, they 
 decided to ask him to come and choose the most 
 beautiful among them, that she might be their sov-
 
 LUITELLO. 129 
 
 ereign. About that time a strange nymph came 
 from the north to make her home with an old aunt 
 who lived near the shore of Como. The rare beauty 
 of the little stranger was undeniable, and it was 
 equalled by the loveliness of her spirit. One day 
 the news spread like wildfire that Neptune, who 
 could not come personally in answer to their mes- 
 sage, had sent a young Triton to represent him. His 
 name was Luitello ; and when he arrived he proved 
 to be not only well-born but handsome. He was not 
 indifferent to the sensation he created, and slyly post- 
 poned naming his choice, on the plea that where so 
 many were beautiful he found the task difficult. 
 But he had not yet seen the new-comer, who per- 
 formed her regular duties such as changing the 
 moss of her aunt's bed, preserving strawberries, 
 gathering a stock of fig-leaves against the coming 
 winter without giving a thought to the dashing 
 visitor. 
 
 Toward evening, when her work was done, she 
 enjoyed going to the top of one of the neighbor- 
 ing hills to see the sunset, after which she would 
 saunter home singing her Northern songs, until grad- 
 ually the other nymphs learned to listen for the soft 
 tones with which she accompanied her steps. At last 
 there came an evening when she was later than usual, 
 and the moonbeams were shimmering upon the lake 
 before they heard her voice. As she reached the 
 water near where they were gathered, she uttered an 
 exclamation of delight and stood fascinated by the 
 scene. Then her voice gently floated to them, and 
 for the first time they detected something wistful in 
 
 9
 
 130 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 its quality. As they listened breathlessly, a form 
 floated across the moonlight, and they saw Luitello, 
 absorbed by the music. Every faculty seemed in- 
 tent upon receiving the full measure of the golden 
 notes, and each muscle seemed strained to carry him 
 nearer the singer. Presently he dived, and rising 
 just below the unconscious nymph, their eyes met. 
 Then a spirit, exquisite and pure, appeared, and glid- 
 ing over the water warned him not to go nearer the 
 nymph lest she discover the unworthiness of which he 
 was suddenly made conscious, and with a tremulous 
 sigh he turned away and disappeared into the shadow. 
 " The poor nymph awoke from her short dream con- 
 founded. Her eyes, mercifully dazzled by the light 
 of the spirit, had seen nothing of Luitello's defects. 
 She only knew that he had come that he was 
 gone ; and her heart cried out with pain. Then 
 her companions with sweet sympathy told her that 
 the spirit she had seen was Love, and that it would 
 again lead Luitello to her : so each night she waited 
 faithfully by the lake until he should come. At last 
 in the path of the moon-light she saw him approach- 
 ing, led by the spirit Love. Now he was deemed 
 worthy. Then the gods, who had given the nymph 
 the spirit of a goddess, bestowed upon her com- 
 mensurate power, and her companions by acclama- 
 tion named her as their queen. In the first exercise 
 of her new power, she ordained that whenever a 
 worthy maid should stray to the lakeside and chance 
 to stand where she herself had stood, Love, the guar- 
 dian spirit of the lake, should bring to the maiden's 
 feet another Luitello."
 
 LUITELLO. 131 
 
 "Where is he, then?" asked Gaeta, seriously. 
 " Why did n't he stay ? " 
 
 The Duchess laughed quietly, and caressing the 
 child, said, "I only agreed to tell you what a Luitello 
 is ; not all the whys and wherefores that mere mortals 
 are not privileged to understand." 
 
 "'In truth he was a strange and wayward wight,' " 
 quoth Mr. Dow. 
 
 The Duchess saw that Agatha was still dreaming, 
 and made a final effort to cover her preoccupation. 
 
 " I must go back to the hotel," she said, rising 
 suddenly. " I have a letter to write, and besides, 
 Agatha, I think it's a little damp here." 
 
 The young girl started slightly and turned. She 
 had heard the words, but not consciously, and it took 
 her a moment to apply them. She instantly thought 
 of her uncle, and on his account was solicitous. 
 
 " I '11 go with you," she said ; " I should n't care 
 to run any risk." 
 
 As Peter Dow walked home by the Duke he emu- 
 lated his companion's silence. His mind was pre- 
 occupied. Could his theory, after all, be incorrect? 
 He was almost certain that he had heard Miss Page 
 speak of the General as her uncle. 
 
 The following morning Mr. Dow sat under the 
 shade of a large tree within sight of the hotel, reading 
 a newspaper. Hearing a step, he turned and saw 
 Gaeta approaching. As the child reached him he 
 looked up and greeted her pleasantly. 
 
 " Have you seen Mamma and Miss Page ? " Gaeta 
 asked.
 
 132 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " No ; are they out of doors so early ? " 
 
 " They 've been out here somewhere for an hour. 
 Perhaps they are in the grove; I '11 go and see," and 
 she moved onward. 
 
 "How is your mamma this morning?" he asked 
 quickly. 
 
 " Oh, very well, thank you." 
 
 "And Miss Page could she sleep after her ad- 
 venture ? " 
 
 " Was n't it lovely ? " exclaimed the child. 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; " and then he added, at a venture, 
 " he was probably some friend of hers." 
 
 This seemed a new idea to Gaeta, and presently 
 a wise look came into her eyes : she smiled and 
 nodded confidently. " I know now who it was, 
 I 'm sure I know ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Do you ? Oh, I think not." 
 
 " I 'm sure of it." 
 
 " Then some one has told you." 
 
 " No one. It just came to me this minute." 
 
 " Oh, then you're probably all wrong." 
 
 " I '11 tell you," said the child, " and you see if he 
 doesn't come before night. It was Uncle Filippo; 
 for now I recognize his voice." 
 
 " Oh, it was your uncle, was it ? What is his name ?" 
 
 " The Marquis Loreno." 
 
 " And he met Miss Page at your villa, of course?" 
 he said, feeling that now he should place her. 
 
 " He met her at our house first ; but he called 
 upon her afterward." 
 
 " Oh, that was the way ! He called upon her while 
 she was at " and he stopped.
 
 LUITELLO. 133 
 
 " At home; at Erba." 
 
 " Then Miss Page has n't a home of her own ? " he 
 continued. 
 
 " Why, of course not," and the child looked in- 
 credulously at her questioner. " She is n't married." 
 
 " So she lives with you ? " 
 
 "Oh no, she does n't ; how did you get that idea?" 
 
 " I 'm sure I don't know ; " and Mr. Dow sank 
 back, fairly discouraged. Then he added bluntly, 
 " where does Miss Page live ? " 
 
 " In Rome." 
 
 " And at Erba she visits you ? " 
 
 " Certainly; we are awfully fond of her." 
 
 His curiosity was fast getting the better of his dis- 
 cretion. " Then she 's only your mother's friend ? " 
 he said. 
 
 " Why, no, Papa likes her too." 
 
 " Of course he does ; I mean that she 's that is, 
 that Miss Page is not " the nakedness of the words 
 that sprang to his mind embarrassed him. 
 
 " There ! " and Gaeta clapped her hands as she 
 looked toward the hotel. " I knew I was right ; 
 there 's Uncle Filippo looking everywhere for us." 
 And she ran toward him. 
 
 He saw her coming, and raising his hand waved his 
 ringers rapidly, the universal token of greeting 
 among Italians. "How do you do, little girl?" he 
 called in his full rich voice. 
 
 " Oh, Uncle Filippo, how welcome you are ! " Mr. 
 Dow heard her exclaim. 
 
 Then the interested observer saw him bend down 
 and kiss the child, and without waiting to see more
 
 134 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 walked toward the grove to search for the Duchess. 
 " There it is again," he thought ; " I sat still and got 
 there ! " 
 
 A moment later Gaeta and the stranger followed, 
 hand in hand. 
 
 " How is everybody?" he asked. 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " Miss Page is with you, I hear." 
 
 " Yes ; is n't she lovely ! I just adore her." 
 
 " Do you ? " and he patted her head. 
 
 They turned into the grove and saw the Duchess 
 and Agatha seated upon a rustic bench, talking with 
 a gentleman who stood before them. 
 
 " Who is he ? " asked Loreno. 
 
 " A Mr. Dow ; we don't know him very well," 
 she said judicially. 
 
 " I don't believe you adore him at least not for 
 his beauty," he whispered. 
 
 After a quick girlish laugh she called aloud, 
 " Mamma, Mamma ! see here ! " 
 
 The Duchess turned, looked at Loreno an instant, 
 and then hurried to meet him. 
 
 u This is a pleasant surprise," she exclaimed, kissing 
 him affectionately. " When did you arrive ? " 
 
 " Last evening at Como ; at Cernobbio, only a 
 moment ago." 
 
 Agatha, who had not gone forward, felt an unac- 
 countable impulse to run away, but compromised by 
 remaining where she was. 
 
 As he advanced toward her his eyes noted the 
 effect of her soft white dress with a bunch of red 
 roses at the belt. She was very pale, but when she
 
 LUITELLO. 135 
 
 touched Filippo's hand her cheeks took again the 
 delicate color that belonged to them. 
 
 The Duchess presented her brother to Mr. Dow. 
 
 " I did n't go ashore last night," Loreno began ; 
 " there seemed to be such a large party." 
 
 The eyes of his sister twinkled at this characteris- 
 tic directness, and she wondered how Agatha would 
 meet it. 
 
 " I 've heard before," was Agatha's reply, " that 
 the moonlight exaggerates. There were only two 
 others besides ourselves." 
 
 " Indeed ! I thought there were more." 
 
 " So you were the mysterious minstrel ! " said the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " Certainly ! There was no mystery intended." 
 
 " Then I must say you were not very brotherly." 
 
 " My habitual modesty ; " and he bowed suavely. 
 
 " It must be your latest Parisian acquirement. 
 How did you know we were here ? " 
 
 " Padre Sacconi told me ; and I 've a pleasant sur- 
 prise for you, he will be here this evening. I 've 
 persuaded him to go to Varese with me for a little 
 visit. Padre Sacconi is our confessor," he explained 
 to Mr. Dow ; " at least, he is mine." 
 
 "Oh, indeed!" replied that gentleman. "Well, 
 I suppose confession is a matter of habit." 
 
 " More or less," Loreno replied. 
 
 " Where are you staying? " asked the Duchess. 
 
 "At Como. I had my luggage sent there from 
 Paris before I knew you were here." 
 
 " We leave to-morrow morning for Varese ; of 
 course you '11 go with us."
 
 136 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I hoped that you would stop at Varese ! " he 
 responded, evasively. "Naturally you are going to 
 the villa?" 
 
 The Duchess laughed. " I took the liberty of 
 playing hostess," she said, " and sent word to have the 
 house ready for us. Am I not a thoughtful sister ?" 
 
 He put his arm about her and looked fondly into 
 her merry eyes. 
 
 " Where are the two commanders ? " he asked ; 
 "I wish to pay my respects to them." 
 
 " The General was in the reading-room when I 
 passed it," said Mr. Dow. " Shall I show you where 
 it is ? " 
 
 Presently the two gentlemen sauntered away to- 
 gether. 
 
 " You are an old friend of Miss Page's," sug- 
 gested Mr. Dow. 
 
 " No ; I only recently met her while I was visiting 
 at my brother-in-law's villa." 
 
 " She lives with the Duke Faviola, then ? " 
 
 " Oh, dear, no ; she lives with her uncle, the 
 Count Ricci." 
 
 "Her uncle oh, indeed! I have only had the 
 honor of knowing her since she came here." 
 
 " She is looking a little tired." 
 
 " Is she ? Naturally, I 'm not able to judge." 
 
 " Delightful old man the General ! " exclaimed 
 Loreno, warmly. 
 
 " Delightful ! " 
 
 " One of your prompt, frank sort, and devoted to 
 his niece." 
 
 " Yes, indeed. He lives at Erba, I believe."
 
 LUITELLO. 137 
 
 " He has a summer villa there, but in the winter 
 they go to Rome." 
 
 " Oh, do they ? " and Mr. Dow opened his eyes as 
 well as his ears. 
 
 " You don't know many Romans, of course, you 
 are an American." 
 
 " I live in Rome now," Mr. Dow hastened to say, 
 " but I was born in Boston." 
 
 " Boston ; that 's in America, is n't it? " 
 
 " Why, yes, Boston ! " 
 
 " I 've heard of it," Loreno continued. " They 
 are talking of building a bridge from New York to 
 Boston." 
 
 An expression of pain passed over Mr. Dow's face. 
 
 "No that's a place called Brooklyn," he ex- 
 claimed. 
 
 " Ah ! you see I 'm not very clear in my American 
 geography. But I intend to learn all about America ; 
 I 'm very much interested in Americans." 
 
 Mr. Dow was placated. "It's a great country," 
 he said, " although at present I prefer Italy for my 
 residence." 
 
 " How strange ! I cannot see how any one can pre- 
 fer another country to his own. I was never more de- 
 lighted than when I got back to Italy yesterday." 
 
 "That's just it. Your home is in Italy. If it 
 were not, you would feel as I do." 
 
 "I'm glad to know that you like my country so 
 much," said Loreno, courteously ; " and now tell me, 
 please, in which of these rooms was it that you saw 
 the General ? "
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 COMMUNICATIONS. 
 
 "Wno else was with you last evening?" Filippo 
 asked Agatha, by whose side he sat at luncheon. 
 
 ** A young Calabrian named Veltri ; he sits on 
 the other side of the table near the top. He is 
 charming. Here he comes." 
 
 Filippo looked up and regarded the youth steadily. 
 
 " He has an interesting face," he remarked. " He 
 would be flattered if he knew the impression he has 
 created." 
 
 " I don't believe so," she answered. " He does n't 
 seem to be a vain young man." 
 
 The quaintness of her words amused and also 
 charmed him. When a man listens to his " ladye 
 love," his critical faculty is apt to be tempered 
 " wyth alle good desyres." 
 
 " He seems rather solemn for one of his years," he 
 remarked. 
 
 "He is down-hearted, poor fellow I " and she re- 
 garded Veltri with sympathy. 
 
 Glancing toward her his eyes met hers, and as 
 he returned her bow he flushed and looked away 
 quickly. 
 
 " Perhaps it 's a case of the little tin soldier who 
 saw and loved the queen," Loreno suggested.
 
 COM M UNICA TIONS. 139 
 
 " Perhaps it is," she replied unconsciously ; " but 
 I think his heart is filled with a passion for music." 
 And then she told of his wonderful playing, and how 
 sad his face had grown as he remarked that teaching 
 killed the artist. 
 
 After luncheon Mr. Dow joined his new friends, 
 who were gathered about a table on the terrace sip- 
 ping their black coffee, and he actually accepted a 
 cigarette, explaining that while he avoided the habit 
 of smoking, he should make this occasion an excep- 
 tion in honor of the Marquis's arrival. 
 
 " By the bye, Marchese," exclaimed the General, 
 " of course Padre Sacconi and you will go with us 
 to-morrow on the coach." 
 
 " It would be charming," Loreno answered, " and 
 I 'm sure Padre Sacconi will infinitely prefer the plan 
 to a quiet drive with me ; but I expect my dog-cart 
 to-night." 
 
 " Is it too late to telegraph and stop it ? " asked 
 the General. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then it must simply go back without you," the 
 Duchess announced calmly ; " you must come on the 
 coach." 
 
 Filippo hesitated ; he had hoped to have an oppor- 
 tunity during the day of ending a suspense which he 
 could scarcely endure. Yet the more he realized 
 what he would ask of Agatha, the more he feared 
 that a bitter disappointment was before him. If 
 such were the outcome of their interview, he knew 
 that the long drive proposed, would be most trying 
 to her as well as to him. In short, should he accept
 
 140 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 the invitation of the Duke, he must sacrifice his ar- 
 dent, almost irresistible longing, and postpone his 
 declaration until they had reached Varese. But sud- 
 denly a new thought came to him with overwhelming 
 force, and he was amazed that even the unexpected 
 delight of having Agatha as a guest should have 
 made him oblivious to the penalty of her visit. Yet 
 now he saw clearly that he ought not to tell her 
 of his love while she was his guest. 
 
 His sister watched his apparent irresolution with 
 perplexity, and before he had time to reply, turned 
 appealingly to Agatha. 
 
 " Can no one induce this spoiled young man to 
 relent ? Did ever one hear of anything so pre- 
 posterous ? Perhaps this is some more of his French 
 modesty, or possibly he wishes us to go down on our 
 knees to him." 
 
 *' I accept, General, with many thanks," Loreno 
 said. 
 
 The Duchess smiled happily and turned to Mr. 
 Dow. 
 
 "It is a pity you are not also going to Varese," 
 she said politely; "perhaps you would have joined 
 our party." 
 
 " Oh, thank you," he replied, " but I may see you 
 there. I intend to stop at Varese, and will do myself 
 the honor to call." 
 
 " Pray don't forget, and I hope we shall still be 
 there." 
 
 "We shall look for you," Loreno added courteously. 
 
 Signer Veltri now approached the group, and 
 Agatha rose to meet him.
 
 COMMUNICATIONS. 141 
 
 "Are you ready?" she asked. 
 
 " At your service, Signorina." 
 
 " Are you going to have some music ? " asked the 
 General. 
 
 " Yes ; we had arranged to try over some duets 
 for piano and violin." 
 
 " Do you object to an audience ? " 
 
 " Not at all ; any one will be welcome who cares 
 to listen." 
 
 " Then I am one," said Loreno. " Will you please 
 present me to Signer Veltri ? " 
 
 The young Calabrian lifted his hat, but Loreno, 
 going forward, offered his hand. " Do you also con- 
 sent to our joining you? " he asked. 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 So the entire party adjourned to the salon and 
 listened for an hour to the playing of the pianist 
 and Agatha. 
 
 AYhen they went out of doors again, leaving the 
 young musician to his practising, Loreno surprised 
 them by saying, 
 
 " I 've a little scheme about which I should like 
 to consult Miss Page ; " and turning to Agatha he 
 added, " Would you mind going with me as far as 
 the lodge?" 
 
 " Certainly not ; " but her face showed surprise. 
 
 " Don't be gone long," called his sister, as they 
 walked away together; " we are going for a row." 
 
 " I have something of importance to tell you," he 
 began, after they had walked a few yards in silence ; 
 " but it 's true that I have a little scheme in mind 
 about which I wish to consult with you. I 've taken
 
 142 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 a fancy to that young pianist, and I propose to ask 
 him to come to the villa while you are there, if 
 agreeable to you." 
 
 She flushed with pleasure. " You are doing this to 
 please me," she said. 
 
 " And myself also." 
 
 " I should be very glad to have him there, so far as 
 I am concerned, but I really know nothing about him 
 except what I 've told you." 
 
 " I had a little talk with him in the salon," Loreno 
 answered, " and he told me that he came here to 
 play to Rubinstein, who was expected at the villa of 
 Baron von Feugel. But Rubinstein has postponed 
 his visit for a week, and so young Veltri is waiting 
 for him. He really interests me very much, and I 
 should like to know him better. There is nothing to 
 keep him here, and I hope that he will come with us. 
 What I have to propose is that you should ask your 
 uncle to offer him a seat on the coach." 
 
 " It 's all rather extraordinary, is n't it ? " she said, 
 looking at him brightly. " Would n't it be better to 
 consult the Duke and your sister? " 
 
 " Why ? I 'm master of my own house." 
 
 " But they may not approve." 
 
 " Have no fear of that. Costanza spoils me quite 
 as much as your uncle spoils you ; and as for the Duke 
 he is n't the least bit of a snob." 
 
 " Very well. And now what is it you have to tell 
 me, anything about my cousin ? " and she searched 
 his face eagerly. 
 
 " Yes ; I have seen her." 
 
 "You have?"
 
 CO AIM UN 1C A TIONS. 143 
 
 " I found her in Paris. She is in the studio of a 
 distinguished sculptor, M. de Valro." 
 
 Agatha's face was ardent. " She is studying sculp- 
 ture, then. Did she seem happy ? " 
 
 " Yes, because she is encouraged heartily by her 
 master, and really shows great talent. I was sur- 
 prised at her work." 
 
 Agatha laughed excitedly. " How splendid, and 
 what a relief ! " Then her face grew grave, " May I 
 tell my uncle ? " she asked. 
 
 " I will explain how matters stand, and then you 
 must judge. When I first found her, she was in- 
 clined to resent my appearance ; but before we 
 parted she was more reasonable, and agreed that I 
 might call again the following day. From that time 
 I saw her constantly, and we had many a long talk. 
 She can't bear the thought of living on in the old 
 way, and is determined to make a new career solely 
 on her merits as an artist. She has even adopted a 
 new name, she calls herself Madame Andre, and 
 her hope is to make this name known and respected 
 through her work, and to enjoy the fruit of her labor. 
 I must confess that after hearing all the circum- 
 stances, I understand her feeling and applaud her 
 intention." 
 
 "What is her feeling toward her father and 
 toward me ? " 
 
 " Toward you most cordial ; and before I left Paris 
 her bitterness toward her father seemed to be greatly 
 softened, so much so, indeed, that she sent a mes- 
 sage to you, in which she is willing to include her 
 father if you think best."
 
 144 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " And that is " 
 
 " That she feels that her present action, while wise, 
 was not kindly taken. She hopes for your considera- 
 tion (she could not bring herself to say forgiveness) 
 regarding her method of taking up her work, and 
 your sympathy in its result." 
 
 " That she will always have," exclaimed the fer- 
 vent girl. " And I 'm sure the Count will be very 
 happy to hear of it all." 
 
 " Who shall tell him ? " he asked. 
 
 She thought for some minutes. " Would Padre 
 Sacconi not be the best person ? " 
 
 *' I think he would be : we will assign that duty to 
 him, then." 
 
 She looked at her companion with undisguised 
 gratitude. 
 
 " How can I ever thank you for what you have 
 done?" she said. 
 
 " The obligation is mine," he replied ; " I hope that 
 by the little I have done, I have proved the sincerity 
 which I bade you test." 
 
 She was silent as they walked side by side, each 
 heart surging wildly. 
 
 " I cannot thank you, " she exclaimed presently ; 
 " my uncle must do so." 
 
 They had turned and were approaching the rest of 
 the party. 
 
 His step grew shorter, and lagged slightly. 
 
 "Do you realize" his voice trembled with sup- 
 pressed feeling, and the eyes into which she looked 
 were intense "do you understand, Miss Agatha, 
 that your happiness is of real consequence to me ? "
 
 COMMUNICATIONS. 145 
 
 "I really never thought of it," and she strove 
 bravely to meet his glance again ; " but," and now 
 involuntarily her eyes sought his and her voice grew 
 firm, "I believe you, and am very grateful." 
 
 He stopped, and she turned inquiringly toward 
 him ; but after a moment he moved forward and the\ r 
 walked for some time without speaking. Agatha was 
 the first to break the silence. 
 
 " How did you like my cousin ? " 
 
 " Very much indeed. She is a splendid compan- 
 ion, so vivacious and clever. We tramped all over 
 Paris, and examined every part of the Exhibition." 
 
 " You think her beautiful, do you not ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed." 
 
 " Did you see little Francesco ? " 
 
 " Several times. He is a fine little fellow, but 
 needs a less worshipful mother." 
 
 " Is he with her, or at school ? " 
 
 " At school ; but he passes every Saturday and Sun- 
 day with his mother." 
 
 " I must brush up my French, or he '11 laugh at me 
 when we meet," she said gayly. 
 
 " Your cousin spoke of your French. She declares 
 that you are one of the few foreigners who speak 
 French like a native." 
 
 " My dear cousin is partial. But did she talk of 
 me much, naturally, I mean, and affectionately?" 
 
 " Without the least restraint ; and as for her en- 
 thusiasm " He made an expressive gesture. 
 
 " Oh, I 'm so glad ! " 
 
 Then she continued to question him rapidly about 
 every detail concerning Mercede, and he succeeded 
 
 10
 
 146 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 in giving her quite a clear idea, not only of Mercede's 
 present feeling, but also of her daily occupation and 
 her home. 
 
 When they reached the hotel they found the party 
 seated near the stone steps leading to the water. As 
 they approached, the Duchess looked up. 
 
 " Well, what mischief have you young people been 
 plotting? " she said. 
 
 " Out with it, Signorina," exclaimed Loreno. 
 
 " The Marquis says, Uncle, that he intends to in- 
 vite Signer Veltri to go to his villa at Varese while 
 we are there, and I think it would be pleasant to have 
 him go on the coach." 
 
 The suggestion was met by a chorus of laughter. 
 
 " The same old Filippo ! " exclaimed the Duchess. 
 " He takes what he wants." 
 
 " And the same old Agatha ! " added the Count ; 
 " nothing can curb her enthusiasm for musicians." 
 
 " Well, what do you think ? " Agatha asked. 
 
 " I will leave it to the Duke and Duchess," the 
 Count replied. 
 
 " Pardon we," said Mr. Dow, whose brow was 
 stretched with amazement, " but do you know that 
 this young fellow is nothing but a teacher in 
 Rome?" 
 
 "No, I was n't aware of that," and Filippo looked 
 at the speaker soberly. " It seems to me that he is 
 much more, that he is an artist ; and as for his 
 being a gentleman, I 'm again willing to trust my 
 judgment." 
 
 " But he teaches." 
 
 " Because he is poor."
 
 COM \rUNIC A T10NS. 147 
 
 " Then you knew about it? " 
 
 " Of course ; but why do you ask ? Is teaching 
 disgraceful in America ? " 
 
 " No, not disgraceful ; but music-teachers don't, as 
 a rule, hold what I should call a good social position." 
 
 " I 'm not proposing to offer this young man a 
 social position, but simply my individual hospitality. 
 The first he might scorn ; the second I trust he will 
 accept." 
 
 " Oh, you are quite right ; I merely thought you 
 might be unacquainted with the fact." 
 
 The Duchess, who knew her brother's face so well, 
 thought it time to interfere. 
 
 " Is n't all this rather off the point ? " she inquired. 
 " The question has been left to the Duke and me, of 
 inviting Signer Veltri to go with us to-morrow in- 
 stead of following by train. If he can arrange to go, 
 I should say by all means ask him to come with us ; 
 should n't you, Luigi ? " 
 
 " Certainly," said the Duke. 
 
 " Then my part is arranged," said Agatha, turning 
 to Loreno. 
 
 " And mine shall be before night," he replied. 
 
 The sail upon the lake was most delightful to 
 Loreno, for Agatha was by his side, her shoulder al- 
 most touching his, and when she turned and spoke to 
 him he could look deep into the clear eyes he thought 
 incomparable. With the knowledge that he would 
 soon ask this girl to be his wife, to give him always the 
 place by her side, came the realization that these hours 
 might be the last during which he could treasure such 
 a hope, or look into those eyes without despair.
 
 148 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 As the boat returned to the quay, music floated 
 over the water and roused Loreno from his dream. 
 Could they have sailed for an hour already ? He 
 glanced toward the landing-place and his heart was 
 heavy. His spirit yearned for rest; he chafed at 
 delay, even though it deferred disappointment. His 
 nature scorned the solace of ignorance and impelled 
 him to grasp the truth. The boat rocked with the 
 wave of a passing steamer, and Agatha's hand fell 
 upon his ; he caught a deep breath and his face paled. 
 
 " Why, Filippo, I believe you were actually fright- 
 ened ! " and the Duchess laughed. 
 
 " I 'm frightened still I " he answered strangely. 
 
 The ladies went to their rooms to dress for dinner, 
 leaving the gentlemen together. The Duke soon ex- 
 cused himself, and Loreno proposed to the General 
 that they should light cigars and stroll in the park. 
 After they had plunged into its seclusion, Loreno sud- 
 denly brought the conversation around to Agatha. 
 
 "Your niece, General, has great talent for music," 
 he said. 
 
 " She really plays very well, does she not ? " 
 
 " Beautifully ! Nor is that all ; her entire nature 
 seems pervaded with music." 
 
 " My niece has a lovely nature." 
 
 In saying this the Count was not as naive as might 
 appear. He had recognized Loreno's voice the even- 
 ing before, and now his suspicions were greatly 
 strengthened. 
 
 " It would be a painful thought, therefore, to con- 
 sider parting with her? " continued the Marquis.
 
 COMMUNICA TIONS. 149 
 
 " Very ! very ! " 
 
 " Yet, appreciating her as you do, you must realize 
 that such a sacrifice is likely to be asked of you." 
 
 " You mean that she may marry ? " 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 " She must love first." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " Then I may have a long respite," and the Count 
 smiled gravely. 
 
 Loreno abandoned circumlocution and dashed di- 
 rectly at his point. 
 
 " We probably understand each other, General," 
 he began. " You mean to warn me that your niece 
 does not care for me ? " 
 
 Knowing Agatha's tone so well, the Count had 
 detected something in her playing the night before 
 that he had never heard until then. He believed 
 that she loved this young man, but it was not for him 
 to tell him so, and he held his peace. 
 
 "I wish, with your permission, to find out for my- 
 self," Loreno continued, " and I respectfully request 
 that privilege. You know who I am, and I need not 
 assure you of my right to take a wife, nor need I 
 assure you that in the event of success in my suit, I 
 will take your niece with a full sense of my responsi- 
 bility, and will cherish and love her as she deserves." 
 
 They had stopped walking and stood face to face. 
 As the young man paused, the Count grasped his hand. 
 
 "Marquis," he said, "I need Agatha myself, I 
 really need her, but I '11 not stand in the way of 
 her happiness. If you should be fortunate enough to 
 win her, I shall yield her up to you with less sorrow
 
 150 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 than to any other young man of my acquaintance. 
 But I shall miss her beyond expression." 
 
 Filippo tightened his grip on the other's hand. His 
 warm heart went out to the brave old man, half 
 laughing, half sobbing, as he realized that he was 
 now indeed to be left alone. 
 
 A few weeks before, he could have looked Loreno in 
 the eye and hidden his feeling like any other man ; but 
 now his nerve was broken and he was no longer him- 
 self. He was ashamed, and bowed his head slightly ; 
 and then as a big tear welled up from his heart and 
 dropped, without the chance of denying it, upon Lo- 
 reno's hand, he confessed his weakness frankly. 
 
 " I realize now that I'm an old man," he said, 
 " really an old man, who must ask some indulgence 
 from a young fellow like you. Pray don't despise 
 the weakness that I have n't the power to control. 
 I 'm not my old self, I 'm conscious of it ; but it 
 can't be helped, and I want your respect." 
 
 Loreno threw his strong arm around his compan- 
 ion's shoulder, not familiarly, but compassionately. 
 
 " Do me the justice to believe, sir," he said, "that 
 I honor you, not only for what you have been, but 
 for what you are. Every young man of Italy honors 
 General Ricci, and I honor doubly the tenderness of 
 the heart already distinguished for its courage." 
 
 " God bless you, Marquis ! " and the old soldier 
 raised his head proudly ; " you have come to me as a 
 strong friend ; I shall not often try your patience in 
 this way. Come, let us go back ; the others will be 
 waiting for us."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 CONFIDENCES. 
 
 ALTHOUGH Padre Sacconi and Loreno were so 
 different in their ages and pursuits, there existed 
 between them a sympathy, the basis of which was 
 their common love for Agatha ; but irrespective of 
 this feeling there was much to draw them together. 
 The ardent nature of Filippo found rest in the calm 
 presence of the white-haired priest, while Padre Sac- 
 coni admired the healthy vigor, both of body and 
 spirit, possessed by the young nobleman ; and the 
 high-minded character of each found a ready response 
 in the other. 
 
 On reaching Erba and hearing that his bird had 
 flown, Loreno had gone to the old man for light. The 
 conversation which ensued convinced the priest that 
 an important hour in the life of Agatha was near, and 
 a longing possessed him to be with her at such a 
 time, perhaps to counsel her, or, if it might be, to 
 bless her. 
 
 As if reading this longing, the young Marquis sud- 
 denly pressed upon the aged man a cordial invitation 
 to go with him to Varese for a few days, stopping on 
 the way at Como to see Agatha.
 
 152 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 The simple old priest seldom took a holiday, and 
 the responsibility of leaving the parish to take care 
 of itself, or even of intrusting its manifold interests 
 to another's keeping, filled him with dismay. But 
 under the impetuous urging of Loreno, reinforced by 
 the desire to be near Agatha, he at last agreed to 
 apply to his bishop for the necessary permission, and, 
 if possible, to join Loreno at Como on the following 
 day. 
 
 He arrived, therefore, on the evening of Loreno's 
 interview with the Count, and the following morn- 
 ing accompanied the Marquis to the Villa d' Este, 
 where they found the coach already loaded for the 
 drive to Varese. Having sent up their names, they 
 seated themselves upon the hotel terrace. In a few 
 moments Agatha appeared. She greeted her old 
 friend affectionately, and then gave her hand to 
 Loreno. 
 
 "I have to thank you for this pleasure," she said; 
 " how shall I repay all my obligations ? " 
 
 " A lady can pay any debt with a flower," and he 
 glanced at the bunch of roses in her bodice. 
 
 She detached a bud and held it out to him. " * In 
 hand to him paid,' isn't that the technical phrase?" 
 she asked gayly. 
 
 " Is this, then, payment in full? " 
 
 " No, indeed," and she looked happily into the face 
 of the priest ; " the whole bunch would not begin to 
 pay this day's debt alone." 
 
 As she seated herself and began to chat with 
 Padre Sacconi, Loreno watched her with admiration. 
 Her dress seemed to him exceedingly pretty, with
 
 CONFIDENCES. 153 
 
 its whiteness, and its crispness, and its graceful folds, 
 while the bow at the throat matching the bow in the 
 coils of her hair quite fascinated his eye. Then the 
 simplicity of it all caused him to wonder why other 
 girls did not dress themselves so well ; and as his 
 glance, following the harmonious lines of the lithe 
 figure, caught a glimpse of a foot which even among 
 Italian women was noteworthy, he closed his eyes for 
 an instant, as though to imprison forever the grateful 
 picture which filled them. 
 
 The arrival of his sister broke the spell. 
 
 " Come," she said, after shaking hands cordially with 
 Padre Saccoui, " everything is ready, and the Gen- 
 eral is impatient to be off." 
 
 The ride, which lasted throughout the day, was 
 broken several times. At the last stage the General 
 yielded up the reins to Loreno, who invited Agatha, 
 from whom he had been separated since the first 
 stage, to take the seat at his side. He was an excel- 
 lent whip, and sent the horses along steadily and 
 swiftly, and as they whirled around a bend which 
 brought the long row of Alps in view, with Monte 
 Rosa like an Amazon towering above her sisters, the 
 sunlight was still playing over the snowy mountain- 
 tops. 
 
 " How beautiful ! " Agatha exclaimed. 
 
 " Yet," said her companion, " I think the sunlight 
 upon Monte Generoso is the prettiest object of the 
 landscape at this hour. You will be able to see it 
 in a few moments. Now look out for it," he said 
 presently, " almost behind us." 
 
 The view across the plain to rugged Generoso
 
 154 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 burst suddenly upon them. Loreno pointed out the 
 town of Varese, while yet farther, removed somewhat 
 from the cluster of houses, was a large hotel, and 
 across the valley a villa upon the crown of a low hill. 
 Around the latter were spacious grounds, and she 
 could see that it was a beautiful estate. 
 
 " That is my villa," he said. " It stands at the 
 head of the lake, and the grounds slope down to the 
 water. What impression does this country make 
 upon 3'ou ? " he added earnestly. 
 
 " It is charming, indeed, not unlike Erba." 
 
 " Then I hope that some of your affection for the 
 Brianza may be transferred to it." And he looked 
 into her face wistfully. 
 
 " Is Varese itself gay, or quiet ? " Agatha inquired 
 hastily. 
 
 "Neither; but in activity, of course not even a 
 suggestion of what it once was. After Sforza intro- 
 duced the mulberry-tree and the silk-worm into 
 Lombardy, Varese took the lead in silk-making, and 
 her silks and velvets were greatly prized even in 
 France. To give you an idea of their prosperity I 
 need only tell you that during the sixteenth century 
 there was not a poor citizen in Varese. The next 
 century, however, brought bad fortune, and a his- 
 torian of that time says that any one of the Varese 
 shopkeepers of the preceding century could have 
 bought out all the shopkeepers of the town in his 
 day." 
 
 " Poor fellows ! how did they lose their money? " 
 
 " Through the great balances due them by France, 
 especially Lyons, being paid in paper money instead
 
 CONFIDENCES. 155 
 
 of in coin, by which act Varese manufacturers lost 
 ninety per cent of their investments. At first they 
 despaired; but the generosity of the Duke of Modern* 
 during his residence in Yarese gave them heart again. 
 During the last one hundred years the town has had 
 her ups and downs. Before the introduction of rail- 
 roads, for example, it was on the high-road to France, 
 Germany, and Flanders ; but the railroads and the 
 new passes changed all that. The citizens, however, 
 still keep alive the traditions of Varese's former 
 affluence, and always hope. Our wines enjoy a good 
 reputation, and we have some excellent factories. I 
 will show you my carriages, all made here ; Varese 
 furniture is well thought of, and our silk is even 
 now sought after. We have four factories for mak- 
 ing church organs, and you have surely heard of 
 the bells cast by the Bizzozera. But the greatest 
 pride of the modern Varesini I have kept for the 
 last." 
 
 " And what is that ? " 
 
 " That here was executed the first act of sov- 
 ereignty for Lombardy in the name of Victor 
 Emmanuel." 
 
 " Brava Varese ! " 
 
 " At present my townsmen hope great things from 
 the Milanese, some of whom are buying and building 
 summer villas near the town." 
 
 " But how can you hope to bid for many of the 
 Milanese against the incomparable attractions of 
 Lake Como?" 
 
 " While no one exceeds your Milanese in his desire 
 for a little country air in the summer-time, no one
 
 156 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 can be more bored than he at the end of three days, 
 if he has not that which recalls his city life. He 
 wishes to pay visits, go to his cafe", read the news- 
 papers, hear a little music if he may, all of which 
 require a sufficient population to make a demand for 
 them. Our little city has this advantage over the 
 silent hills of Como, it can offer the charms of the 
 country with a certain continuance of city habits." 
 
 u But do your rich visitors and residents do nothing 
 except amuse themselves? " 
 
 " A few do more. My friend Dandolo, for example, 
 belongs to a family renowned for its benevolence. 
 His grandfather bought a convent which had been 
 suppressed, and turned it into a villa. Here he de- 
 livered lectures upon agriculture to the inhabitants, 
 and gave them the benefit of his personal experi- 
 ence ; his son continued the work ; and the grand- 
 sons in good time took it up. One brother, however, 
 was killed in Rome while fighting the French, and 
 Emilio returning from the war was left alone. Yet 
 he has done much, both by example and by practical 
 effort." 
 
 44 And you ? " she asked, smiling archly. 
 
 44 1 ? Well, I confess that I do but little in propor- 
 tion to my opportunity, and even that little becomes 
 contemptible in the presence of one who does so much 
 for the unfortunate ; " and he looked reverently into 
 the face that had grown suddenly serious. 
 
 44 My poor efforts," she said, with a touch of 
 sadness, 4t don't even merit the recognition of an 
 apology." 
 
 44 Others think differently ; " and he paused before
 
 CONFIDENCES. 157 
 
 adding, " if I had a good example always before me, 
 I feel that I might really accomplish something. But 
 there is no co-operation here, and my knowledge of 
 what I might do is annulled by my lack of zeal." 
 
 In his preoccupation he had neglected his duties, 
 and the Duchess found it necessary to call him to 
 order. 
 
 " Hurry on, Filippo I " she called. " The horses 
 can rest for the next week." 
 
 " Eu ! " he called to the leaders, with the soft 
 dove-like sound universal among Italian drivers. In 
 the present instance, at least, the result was in the 
 inverse ratio to the power of the sound, and just as 
 the afterglow of the sun shot into the heavens the 
 coach dashed into the villa grounds. 
 
 When the steps were brought, Filippo busied him- 
 self with his companion's wraps until his other guests 
 had clambered down. The Duchess turned to wait 
 for Agatha, but seeing that her brother lagged, dis- 
 creetly led the way into the house. Then Filippo 
 alighted, and taking Agatha's hand helped her to the 
 ground ; still retaining her hand he led her across the 
 threshold of his home and bowed as she passed in 
 front of him. She flushed slightly, and the hand 
 which the Duchess now claimed, trembled. 
 
 " Welcome to my brother's home ! " said the Duch- 
 ess, kissing her affectionately. " In both our names, 
 welcome indeed ! " 
 
 It is an eventful moment when a sister first tacitly 
 acknowledges her who has won the brother's heart, 
 for they will be either sisters or opponents. When
 
 158 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 the bond is close between brother and sister, it is 
 one not to be lightly loosened. Playfellows in baby- 
 hood, companions in childhood, friends in youth and 
 confidants in budding maturity ; knit together by 
 common interests and natural instinct, they have 
 shared their joys and suffered the same sorrows 
 until their hearts beat with peculiar correspondence. 
 Through it all she has become more womanly, he 
 more manly ; and awakening to this fact each re- 
 joices in the other and there continues between them 
 the nearest approach to a relation of equality that is 
 possible between the two sexes : when lo ! some fine 
 morning a little maid appears whose tastes, opinions, 
 wishes, and even prejudices are counted more worthy 
 of attention than those of the old comrade ; whose 
 fellowship is plainly preferred, whose adoption, in a 
 word, is complete. 
 
 Yet she who is installed so confidently upon an- 
 other's throne has need of a loving Mentor. Man- 
 kind has not learned and perhaps never will 
 learn to be reasonable regarding a young wife. 
 The ancient Adam seems to have believed his Eve 
 equipped with all the wisdom and self-denial that 
 belong only to experience, and in consequence un- 
 justly blamed his unhappy bride : the modern Adam, 
 with corresponding thoughtlessness, seems to expect 
 his Eve to understand his temper and his palate as 
 perfectly as though she had rubbed against his 
 rough edges and made his coffee since childhood. 
 But the modern Eve has often a guardian angel in 
 the guise of her husband's sister. Let her lay hold 
 of that sister's heart and enjoy its sweet sympathy,
 
 CONFIDENCES. 159 
 
 profit by its wisdom, and woo from it sage hints born 
 of experience. 
 
 The following morning, was beautifully clear, and 
 Loreno, rising early, sauntered to the garden. Upon 
 his return, seeing no signs of his guests, he went to 
 his room to write. He was restless, however, and 
 soon threw down his pen and stepped out upon the 
 balcony. 
 
 The villa had belonged to his family for several 
 generations, and every summer of his youth had been 
 passed here. The room in which he now slept was 
 known as the Padrone's room, and his father and 
 grandfather had occupied it before him ; it was 
 directly below his old one, and therefore the view 
 from its balcony was familiar. 
 
 Sweeping down with a gentle curve, a lawn fell to 
 the tranquil lake of Varese, a mile away, the waters 
 of its farther shore seeming to bathe the feet of 
 Monte Rosa, whose ponderous sides glistened in the 
 sunlight. To the left the line of the snow-covered 
 Alps led the eye far away to the needle-point of 
 Monte Viso; while to the right, where the near 
 Italian hills shut in the view, the famous chapels 
 of the Sacro Monte stood out sharply against the 
 summer sky. Ah, how he longed to go and ask 
 the sweet girl his roof now sheltered to be mistress 
 of these downs and groves, these flowers and splash- 
 ing brooks upon which his eyes turned, but whose 
 power to give him happiness was gone unless she 
 should come and share their fellowship ! 
 
 Presently his sister appeared upon the terrace and
 
 160 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 stood breathing the pure air. His eye brightened 
 with pleasure, and he watched her for a moment 
 before speaking. She turned, and looking up waved 
 her hand and answered his morning greeting. After 
 chatting with her for a few moments he went below 
 and joined her. 
 
 41 1 presume Miss Page is tired after her ride," he 
 ventured. 
 
 " Very likely." 
 
 " It 's a great pleasure for me to have you all here," 
 and his gaze was fixed upon the tranquil view. 
 
 Her eyes twinkled as she replied solicitously, 
 
 " You don't think, then, that I took too great a 
 liberty with your hospitality ? " 
 
 He turned quickly toward her. " Why, Costa nza ! 
 you cannot impose upon me. You know how wel- 
 come any friend of yours would be at any time; 
 but in this instance I am peculiarly happy to receive 
 your friends." 
 
 She slipped her hand through his arm and looked 
 into his face lovingly. 
 
 " You like Miss Page, Filippo ? " 
 
 He answered her look firmly. " I have never 
 known any one whom I admire so thoroughly." 
 
 Her hand closed tightly upon his arm, and with her 
 eyes upon his she added, "A woman, dear, sees clearly 
 through other women ; and any one who succeeds in 
 winning Agatha's faith will be very fortunate." 
 
 He paused for a moment and then said steadily, " I 
 intend to try." 
 
 A door opened above them, and turning, they saw 
 Agatha upon her balcony. She wore a bunch of
 
 CONFIDENCES. 161 
 
 fresh flowers in her dress, and a rose was fastened in 
 her hair. 
 
 The Duchess smiled slightly and glanced at the 
 bunch in her own belt. " By the bye," she said, " I 
 suppose it is you I must thank for these exquisite 
 flowers." 
 
 " Yes, I took a walk before my coffee was sent up, 
 and picked a few flowers on the way." 
 
 The young girl above now caught sight of them, 
 and bade them a cheery good-morning. 
 
 " Am I the last one ? " she asked. 
 
 " No ; you see all the early birds here," the Duch- 
 ess answered. 
 
 " Then I '11 hurry down to shame the others." 
 
 " That won't be till the new year gets ahead of 
 the old," called Padre Sacconi, as he and the Gen- 
 eral, arm in arm, came around the corner of the 
 house. 
 
 The General had awakened early, and after light- 
 ing a cigar, had gone to the terrace, where in a few 
 moments he was joined by Padre Sacconi, who pro- 
 posed a stroll in the grove. 
 
 " Let us sit down on that bench yonder," said the 
 priest, presently. " I have something to tell you." 
 
 They seated themselves, and the Count, turning to 
 his companion, waited to hear what he had to say. 
 
 "I have news for you, General," Padre Sacconi 
 began, "which its bearer, the Marquis Loreno, thinks 
 you would prefer to hear from my lips rather than 
 from his. However that may be, I trust it will be 
 welcome." 
 
 The General's eyes twinkled ; he believed Agatha 
 11
 
 162 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 had consented to become Loreno's wife, and that they 
 thought thus to break the news to him. 
 
 " What is it ? " he asked ; " out with it ! " 
 
 " It is from Paris ; from one of the studios where 
 students of sculpture are sometimes received." 
 
 The General's eyes grew bright and his face be- 
 came serious, a spot of red mounting to each cheek. 
 
 " The Marquis," continued the priest, warily, 
 "made the acquaintance of a young woman there, 
 who gives unusual promise of success, and he bears a 
 message from her to her father." Knowing the Gen- 
 eral's hot temper, and having been made acquainted 
 with the circumstances of Mercede's letter, he paused, 
 expecting at least an indignant protest. 
 
 " The message is from my daughter," was the 
 quiet comment. 
 
 " Yes, from Mercede. She is showing wonderful 
 talent, I hear." 
 
 The Count remained silent for some moments, look- 
 ing up the path. " What is her message ? " he asked 
 presently. 
 
 " The spirit of it is this," and the kind-hearted 
 old mediator permitted the message to receive the 
 soft color of his own nature : " She realizes now that 
 her life, poor girl ! has again a ray of interest to 
 her ; that her leaving for Paris so suddenly, and writ- 
 ing so vaguely of her intentions was the result quite 
 natural, as it seems to me of the strain (and it must 
 have been a terrible one, poor child!) which had been 
 put upon her by her girlish inexperience and love of 
 romance, for that, after all, is what it was. The dear 
 girl hopes for her father's consideration, that was
 
 CONFIDENCES. 163 
 
 the precise word, hopes, under the almost insupport- 
 able circumstances, for a father's consideration ; and 
 more, dear friend, this poor lonely girl, struggling 
 bravely to win a name which her child may bear with- 
 out shame, asks for her father's sympathy." 
 
 "Is that her word also?" asked the General, 
 hoarsely. 
 
 " Her precise word." 
 
 The father's tone was full of feeling, and he was 
 evidently touched ; therefore the priest thought it 
 best to leave well enough alone. 
 
 After a long and profound silence the General 
 rose and moved toward the house. His companion 
 joined him, and they walked on without speaking for 
 some minutes. When the Count spoke, his voice was 
 steady and calm. 
 
 " Padre Sacconi," he said, " I 'm a pretty old man 
 to treasure either ambition or bitterness. Mercede 
 has made me suffer, and a good deal ; but she too 
 has suffered, and must suffer, I fear, in the many 
 years before her. I shall write to her ; the Marquis 
 has her address ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " And Agatha knows of all this? " 
 
 " I think so ; indeed, I 'm sure of it." 
 
 An expression of pain passed over his face. 
 
 " And Agatha did n't dare tell me herself? " 
 
 " She knew that the subject was painful, and 
 that " 
 
 " That," interrupted the Count with a sad smile, 
 " her uncle's temper is untrustworthy ; but do you 
 know, Padre, that seems a long time ago. While I
 
 164 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 have certainly lost much in strength, I feel that I 've 
 gained something. I think I 'm a little less well, 
 say impulsive than I was. Not that it 's all gone, 
 by any means, but that I seem to covet peace and 
 value good-will a little more than I did. I shall 
 write to my daughter, and and I thank you very 
 much for your kindness, old friend, to-day and in 
 the past. But you don't wish to go in yet, do 
 you ? " he demanded, with easy indifference to his 
 own leadership. " Why not take another turn up the 
 path and tell me all you know about Mercede ; I was 
 always sure that girl had talent. She has a remark- 
 able face. Did you ever notice an intense expression 
 of the eyes that seems to be the very essence of earn- 
 estness ? It 's really extraordinary ; and when you 
 think of it, her temperament is a thoroughly artistic 
 one. I don't like, mind you, that a daughter of mine 
 should sell the work of her brain and hand to others, 
 but I suppose I 've got to accept that with her new 
 life. It 's a wonderful change from what I 'd dreamed 
 would be my child's future ;" and sadness again stole 
 into his face. 
 
 Then his companion recited the glory of talent, 
 and drew, as a result of Mercede's success, a picture 
 so wisely adapted to the Count's ambition, that he 
 became almost reconciled to her new life. 
 
 Then the General, whose heart was warmed, made 
 a confidence on his part, after which he stood and ab- 
 sorbed attentively an ex-parte and enthusiastic state- 
 ment of the noble traits of a certain young Marquis, 
 meanwhile nodding his head emphatically, and utter- 
 ing ejaculations of " E vero ! Certo ! Sicuro I "
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 "IL TRAMONTO." 
 
 THE next few days were divided between music, 
 riding, driving, and roaming about the grounds. Lo- 
 reno was sorely tempted to speak his heart to Agatha, 
 but resisted firmly, although he put no restraint upon 
 his devotion to her. The General seemed in uncom- 
 mon spirits, while Padre Sacconi was rather inclined 
 to censure himself when he found how contented he 
 could be away from his flock. 
 
 Loreno soon discovered the old gentleman's weak- 
 ness for books, and he established him in a big arm- 
 chair near the open window of the library, with rows 
 of rare volumes on all sides, and with a roving com- 
 mission to delve among them to his heart's content. 
 Now and again the scholarly old face would appear 
 in the music-room, wooed by the magic fingers of 
 Signor Veltri and the sound of Agatha's bow ; or 
 the sweet old priest would wander off for half an 
 hour among the flowers or the big chestnut-trees, 
 only to return soon to his easy chair and his books. 
 
 The young musician did not disguise his happiness. 
 Treated as a friend, surrounded by congenial com- 
 panions, neither persecuted by attention nor neg- 
 lected, he walked and talked, practised his music,
 
 16G AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 and rambled where inclination suggested, from hour 
 to hour. Then, too, he often accompanied his host, 
 Agatha, and Gaeta, upon a gallop over the surround- 
 ing country. The Duchess was everywhere, and 
 seemed in her element as she watched over the 
 pleasure of the guests ; but she and the Duke 
 sometimes jumped into her pony phaeton at least, 
 Loreno always called it hers and went off alone 
 for two or three hours. Although Loreno's guests 
 had planned to push on to Stresa on Saturday, they 
 had not yet visited the " Sacro Monte," a high hill 
 upon which by the enterprise of a priest more than a 
 dozen little chapels or "stations" are built at regular 
 intervals, with a road leading past them to the hill- 
 top. 
 
 " Why not go this evening ? " suggested Loreno on 
 the morning of Friday ; " there is not a cloud in the 
 sky." 
 
 The plan met with general approval, and there- 
 upon he extended it. 
 
 " Let us," he said, " make an early start so that 
 those who wish to push on to the Campo dei Fiore 
 may see the sunset across the Alps." 
 
 They left the villa about four o'clock, and drove to 
 the first chapel, beyond which a carriage could not 
 go. The Duchess and Gaeta mounted ponies, but the 
 others preferred to walk. Agatha was between her 
 uncle and Loreno, while the Duke, Signer Veltri, 
 and Padre Sacconi walked a few yards ahead. 
 
 " The Duchess told me, with much pleasure," said 
 the priest to Signor Veltri, " that you have consented 
 to accept her daughter as a pupil next winter."
 
 " IL TRAMONTO." 167 
 
 " The obligation is mine," was the answer. " I 
 am very glad to get pupils." 
 
 " But you can't take more than a certain number." 
 
 " My time has never been full." 
 
 "Is that possible!" Padre Sacconi had never 
 before heard any really good pianist, and this young 
 artist's skill filled him with wonder. He had sup- 
 posed that pupils would throng about such a 
 master. 
 
 " Only artists have all their time taken, and I am 
 merely a student." 
 
 " Dear me, dear me ! " answered the simple priest ; 
 " then what must they be ? " 
 
 " I understand," remarked the Duke, " that you 
 taught the children of the Countess Casolini last 
 winter." 
 
 " I have n't them any longer," and Veltri's brown 
 eyes met the Duke's ; " I told the Countess that her 
 eldest daughter had no talent, and that it was a waste 
 of money to have her taught. She was offended, and 
 dismissed me instantly.' 
 
 The nobleman smiled grimly. "Honesty isn't 
 always wise." 
 
 " I 'm sorry, of course, for through the Countess I 
 got several pupils, and two of them have already been 
 withdrawn ; yet what else could I do ? I thought I 
 ought to tell her my opinion, but I said I was willing 
 to teach the child." 
 
 " Have you heard Gaeta play ? " 
 
 " Yes, this morning." 
 
 " And you think it worth while for her to study 
 music ? "
 
 168 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Yes, I do, although I can't tell the extent of her 
 talent ; but she holds her hands well, and I hope has 
 true feeling." 
 
 The Duke eyed him closely while he spoke, and 
 then smiled slightly, but said nothing ; presently their 
 attention was attracted by an arch, and the conversa- 
 tion took another turn. 
 
 Loreno and his companions had fallen many yards 
 in the rear, and fearing that the Count was growing 
 weary, Loreuo offered him his arm. 
 
 " What for ? " demanded the General. 
 
 " It's rather a long pull, and I thought you might 
 be a little tired." 
 
 The old gentleman drew himself up, his pride evi- 
 dently touched. 
 
 " Not in the least, sir ! " he said. " Am I walking 
 too slowly for you ? " 
 
 " No, indeed ! " and then as the other quickened 
 his pace, he added in a laughing tone, " Oh, come, 
 General, don't hurry us ; your niece and I have yet 
 to climb to the top of the Campo dei Fiore." 
 
 The Count laughed contentedly. " I 've been a 
 good walker in my day," he said ; " my niece can 
 bear me out in that, for it 's not so very long ago we 
 walked from Erba to Bellagio eh, Agatha ? " 
 
 " And only a few weeks ago," Agatha added, read- 
 ily comprehending the situation, " do you remember 
 walking so fast from Inverigo across the hills that I 
 cried for mercy ? " 
 
 The old man chuckled at the recollection, and then 
 grew grave. 
 
 " I doubt if it ever will occur again," he said pres-
 
 "7L TRAMONTO." 169 
 
 ently ; " an old war-horse must give way sooner or 
 later sooner or later." 
 
 The young girl regarded him with great tender- 
 ness. " Why, uncle dear," she said, " what are you 
 thinking of? After this little change of air you will 
 be stronger than ever." 
 
 " Yes, General," added Loreno, with the best of 
 intentions, "compare yourself with Padre Sacconi, 
 or even with a man so much your junior as Mr. Dow ! 
 You could give them a kilometer in five." 
 
 " Comfort myself by comparison with a priest and 
 a slate-pencil I " exclaimed the nettled soldier. 
 
 "I mean," stammered Loreno, desperately, "that 
 you could distance them both if their strength were 
 combined." 
 
 "You didn't say that!" the other said suspi- 
 ciously. 
 
 " Well, I say it now." 
 
 " And I believe my uncle could easily," affirmed 
 Agatha, coming to the rescue. 
 
 The Count remained silent for a moment or two. 
 " I am getting old all the same," he said presently ; 
 " I know it because I 'm so testy. I did n't mean 
 any disrespect to my dear old friend Padre Sacconi, 
 nor even to Mr. Dow ! " 
 
 This evidence of his increased infirmity saddened 
 Agatha greatly, and it was with difficulty that she 
 could conceal the sudden depression of her spirits ; 
 but Loreno, in his turn, now came to the rescue 
 bravely and effectively. He succeeded in starting 
 the Count on reminiscences Avhich wooed him into 
 the most amiable of moods ; and the old gentleman,
 
 170 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 either from a sense of requital or in obedience to 
 that mysterious intuition which leads mankind 
 when in a confidential mood to grasp the biceps 
 of its fellow-man, slipped his arm through that of 
 Loreno. 
 
 When they reached the top, Loreno found that only 
 the Duke and Gaeta would push on with Agatha and 
 himself, the others being contented with the view 
 from the veranda of the inn. So the quartet started 
 off, the Duke with Gaeta setting out at a rapid pace. 
 
 At first the ground was wet and slippery, but they 
 soon entered a path which was dry and hard, leading 
 toward the southern side of the mountain. Up this 
 they climbed briskly for some time, until suddenly 
 they came upon a cleft in the ground, from which a 
 fresh breeze blew. 
 
 " How refreshing ! " exclaimed Gaeta. 
 
 "This breeze is said to be always here," Loreno 
 remarked, " but in winter it feels warm and damp ; 
 there is a smaller cleft a little higher up." 
 
 " Let us push on," suggested the Duke ; " the sun 
 is falling fast." 
 
 So off they started again, through fine grass and 
 bushes, until presently they found themselves in the 
 midst of a bewildering profusion of plants and flow- 
 ers. They had, however, no time to linger, and with 
 another effort were soon upon the summit. Gaeta 
 found a seat, and availed herself of this opportunity 
 to rest, her father standing near her absorbed in the 
 splendid pageant. 
 
 Loreno led Agatha slowly away from them, beyond 
 a high ledge of rock, passing around which they stood
 
 "/ TRAMONTO." 171 
 
 silent, gazing over the vast plain of Lombardy framed 
 by the glowing Alps and the distant Apennines, 
 while below them the picturesque lakes reflected 
 different lights. Loreno watched the face he loved 
 as the sun slowly disappeared behind the mountain- 
 tops, its rays still penetrating the gloom, but losing 
 strength with every passing moment. 
 
 " How awful it would be," his low voice was rich 
 with feeling, " if we knew that it had sunk for the 
 last time ! How willingly one would die ! " 
 
 Agatha shuddered slightly. " What a dreary 
 thought ! " she said. 
 
 " I don't wonder that you shudder," he continued, 
 " although at a mere fantasy. I too shudder, but I 
 have good reason." She turned and looked into his 
 face wonderingly. " Do you know," he went on, 
 " that from this moment I fear my life is to be 
 shrouded in a gloom as hopeless and even harder to 
 endure ? I have known for some time that this mo- 
 ment must come, and dread has almost made a cow- 
 ard of me." His lips moved, but no sound came, and 
 he put his hand to his throat as though it were 
 parched. Then his eager eyes sought hers and held 
 them steadfast as he spoke again. " My heart, all my 
 being, has been illumed by a glorious hope ; to-night 
 I fear it will sink and leave me in darkness." His 
 eyes grew wistful, while his tremulous breath gave 
 evidence of the deep passion that stirred him. 
 
 " I love you," he said, baring his head reverently ; 
 *' I love you deeply eternally ! " 
 
 He regarded her anxiously as her eyes grew fright- 
 ened, and her hand sought a gold cross hanging upon
 
 172 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 her bosom. Then he gently clasped both the symbol 
 and the trembling hand. 
 
 " Is there hope of a morrow for me ? " he asked, 
 " or must it always be night ? " 
 
 The whole intensity of her nature shone in the 
 eyes that looked deep into his for a full moment. 
 Then the light of a pure soul at rest came into her 
 face, and he bent down and kissed her.
 
 PAET SECOND.
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 AN INVITATION. 
 
 Do not judge your fellow-men too much by their 
 masks. I have seen barbers with the faces of poets ; 
 I have sat near a red-faced fat priest whose thick 
 lips trembled and whose bleared eyes filled with tears 
 at the tender tones of an organ : nor because a 
 face is stern does it follow that the heart it screens 
 is hard. 
 
 There is an old man universally known, and at 
 whom most of us look askance, of whom some hard 
 things are said. He is often called " the Enemy," 
 and treated accordingly. Yet behind his grim visage 
 is a heart which lavishes gifts upon the young until 
 their beauty rivals that of the angels. Abuse old 
 Father Time, and he retaliates; treat him as a friend, 
 and there is none better. This was the principle 
 upon which Agatha and her husband ordered their 
 married life, and now, although the fifth anniversary 
 of their wedding day had passed, Time had evidently 
 befriended them. 
 
 They were together in their home in Rome. The 
 room in which they sat was large, and furnished with
 
 176 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 warm hangings and carved furniture showing Vene- 
 tian skill. A bright fire blazed upon the hearth, in 
 front of which a table was drawn, with a tall lamp 
 upon it covered with a red silk shade. 
 
 Agatha was writing, while Filippo sat on the oppo- 
 site side of the table reading. He looked up presently 
 from his book and watched her affectionately. 
 
 " To whom are you writing ? " he asked. 
 
 " Mercede." 
 
 " Give her my love, and tell her how glad I was to 
 hear of her Salon success." 
 
 " I included your congratulations with mine long 
 ago. Is there anything else ? " 
 
 " I don't think of anything except kindest regards 
 to the General. Are they still in Paris ? " 
 
 " Of course ; they don't go to Cannes until next 
 week. What a memory } - ou have ! " 
 
 He smiled amiably, and remained absorbed in 
 thought for some time. 
 
 " What a change has come over things within the 
 past five or six years ! " he said presently. 
 
 " Wonderful ! " and Agatha looked dreamily into 
 the fire, her face bright with contentment. 
 
 Yet, after all, the changes were not so wonderful. 
 Loreno had quickly become domesticated, while little 
 by little Agatha had succeeded in interesting him in 
 some of the plans which she had quietly and unob- 
 trusively been carrying into effect. Her sympathy 
 with the poor had been great, even as a young girl ; 
 and after her marriage she availed herself of the 
 broader sphere opened thereby to further the com- 
 fort of those who were less fortunate than herself.
 
 AN INVITATION. 177 
 
 Filippo, regarding this as suitable work for a woman, 
 and interested in whatever was identified with his 
 wife, gave a good-natured sanction to her efforts ; 
 but his main concern was with politics. He had 
 early resigned his diplomatic post, and being chosen 
 to represent the district of Varese in the National 
 Parliament, had thrown himself with vigor into this 
 new work, and was already one of the most promi- 
 nent of the younger statesmen. 
 
 His views were broad, his words direct, and he 
 won recognition from the leaders of both the Left 
 and the Right. 
 
 Among all the politicians with whom he was 
 thrown, no one appealed to him more as a thinker, 
 or charmed him more as a friend, than the venerable 
 Alfieri, " the democratic Marquis," as he was called. 
 When, therefore, this statesman, during a brief visit 
 at Varese, commended earnestly Agatha's philan- 
 thropic work, Filippo's interest in it was greatly 
 quickened, and he discovered reason for the sena- 
 tor's approbation. He saw that the prizes which 
 Agatha gave monthly to the contadini whose homes 
 were clean and in good repair, and also to those who 
 cultivated the prettiest plants in their houses, were 
 agents not only of philanthropy but of good politi- 
 cal economy, and that her sewing, music, and other 
 classes were based upon a broad principle. There- 
 upon he adopted her plan and began with encouraging 
 athletics by organizing competitions, and eventually 
 presented to the town a fine gymnasium. In good 
 time he subsidized the theatre, and prevailed upon 
 the railroad to offer cheap excursions, in short 
 
 12
 
 178 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 did what he could to teach the poorer classes to 
 amuse themselves rationally and healthfully. From 
 this beginning grew more important endeavors, one 
 of which was to teach the peasantry some essential 
 sanitary laws. His most ambitious project, however, 
 was the founding of a popular bank similar to those 
 started by Luzzatti, Schulze-Delitzsch and others ; 
 and he adopted the same plan which makes those 
 institutions so successful in meeting the perplexing 
 questions of agricultural credit. 
 
 He interested several of his influential neighbors 
 in the scheme, and by agreeing to manage the cash 
 department himself, induced them also to give their 
 services without pay. The purpose of the bank was 
 to receive and care for the savings of the poor, 
 paying them good interest, advancing liberally upon 
 produce and merchandise, receiving and issuing drafts 
 upon other places, and putting an end to usury by 
 discounting freely. Then it issued agrarian deben- 
 ture bonds for sums of five hundred lire, to form a 
 fund for the carrying on of agriculture. On these 
 bonds it paid good interest, and the investment was 
 felt to be safe by the purchasers, because the bank 
 not only had a paid-up capital and reserve, but made 
 an alliance with the other banks of the province to 
 issue bonds under their collective guarantee. 
 
 Thus not only did the institution facilitate agricul- 
 ture, but it circulated the unemployed savings of the 
 people, facilitating work and production. Coin which 
 before was hidden under hearthstones was now put 
 at interest and kept in circulation. In this way 
 political economy was illustrated practically to the
 
 AN INVITATION. 179 
 
 community, and shopkeepers, farmers, workmen, and 
 proprietors were associated together. 
 
 Thus Loreno found much in the new plan to engage 
 his mind as well as his time, although after the ma- 
 chinery began to run smoothly he was relieved from 
 his clerical work. In Rome he was naturally en- 
 grossed in his legislative duties, while Agatha was 
 active in philanthropic works, to which she gave daily 
 attention, in spite of the claims never unhonored 
 of her son Sebastiano and her little daughter Teresa. 
 Yet, as has been said, such changes as these in the 
 life of the Marquis and his wife were not wonderful. 
 On the contrary, they were quite natural to the ar- 
 dent temperament of the one and the predisposition 
 of the other. 
 
 In the mean time the General had carried out his 
 intention of communicating with Mercede, and partly 
 through the good offices of Agatha and Filippo, 
 partly because the dawn of success cast a warmer 
 glow over Mercede's horizon, she accepted, or rather 
 she did not repel, her father's attempt at reconcilia- 
 tion, and sent a satisfactory reply to his letter. This 
 led to a regular correspondence ; and when she real- 
 ized that he had no intention of opposing her artistic 
 career, she showed her appreciation by the more 
 unguarded tone of her letters. As the years went 
 by, and the artist's hard work and talent began to 
 bear fruit, she wrote frankly and with justifiable pride 
 to her father, who in return did not stint his ex- 
 pressions of satisfaction ; and thus they were gradu- 
 ally brought closer. Then came a stirring epoch
 
 180 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 in the artist's career : her last work for the Salon 
 created a furore, and photographs of it appeared in 
 all the principal cities of Europe. The name of 
 Madame Andre was upon every tongue that spoke 
 of art, and naturally Rome was soon familiar with 
 it. Then came a report that the renowned sculp- 
 tress was coming to pass the remainder of the winter 
 in the Eternal City, followed by a vague rumor that 
 Madame Andre had once been a student in Rome ; 
 whereupon there were sanguine persons who declared 
 that they remembered having once met a little French 
 girl bearing the name of Andre whose attempts had 
 even then impressed them most favorably. 
 
 About this time Mercede wrote her father a 
 dutiful and cordial letter, begging him to pay her 
 a visit, and proposing that afterward they should go 
 together to Rome, stopping on the way for a little rest 
 at Cannes. As a matter of fact, while the old gentle- 
 man was perhaps " reformed," he had not become an 
 angel, and it is certain that he would have died with- 
 out ever again laying eyes upon his daughter, had she 
 not thus asked him to come to her. 
 
 The General had now been absent about two 
 weeks, and in a letter to Agatha told of his surprise 
 at Mercede's genius and of his gratification at the 
 honor paid her. He was evidently very happy, and 
 wrote that the Parisian air agreed with him amaz- 
 ingly. Francesco he described as quite a young 
 giant; and as for Mercede his impressions may 
 perhaps be best summed up in his own words : " She 
 seems older in judgment and manner, but I may still 
 say * she is thoroughly Italian.' r
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A NINE DAYS' WONDER. 
 
 WHEN Mercede and her father arrived in Rome, 
 they were received at the station by Agatha and 
 Filippo. The General proposed that they should all 
 dine together in the evening, and at seven o'clock 
 the Marquis and his wife drove into the familiar court 
 and climbed the long flights of stone steps, leading 
 past the mutilated busts, to the heavy wooden door 
 bearing the name of the Count Ricci. As they were 
 ushered in, Mercede came forward eagerly to greet 
 them, and Agatha had a better chance of observing 
 the outward change that time had wrought in her. 
 
 She thought her cousin improved. Some of the 
 freshness of her beauty had faded, but her face had 
 undeniably gained in dignity and intellect. She was 
 tall, graceful, and uncommonly striking in appear- 
 ance ; her carriage, moreover, had an ease and confi- 
 dence that was beyond the promise of her maiden- 
 hood, the result, no doubt, of her more developed 
 character and of her success. In her presence not 
 even the gracious Queen of Italy would have shone 
 supreme ; and indeed there was something in Mer- 
 cede's manner and courtliness which suggested the
 
 182 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 comparison to Agatha. She was stately, self-pos- 
 sessed, and vivacious ; attentive to what was said 
 to her, intelligent and tactful in her responses. She 
 possessed also the gift of leading well, and during 
 the dinner and the long evening that followed chose 
 topics of conversation in which both Agatha and 
 Loreno were sure to find a responsive interest. She 
 was full of vigor, physical and mental, and under her 
 competent direction the conversation flowed genially 
 and incessantly. 
 
 Francesco did not dine with the others, but be- 
 fore dinner was the object of much attention. He 
 was a well-favored boy with pleasing manners. The 
 Lorenos were charmed with child and mother, while 
 the General seemed to be holding a mental jubilee. 
 What the last five years had added to his marks of 
 age, his trip to Paris and its sequel seemed to have 
 softened, and where shall we find the true elixir of 
 life if not within our hearts ? The hair may whiten, 
 the eye grow dim, and the joints stiffen ; but all this 
 is not to be old, it is mere evidence of infirmity. No, 
 the Count was not old, at least, not to-night. 
 
 Agatha and Filippo had already agreed upon a plan 
 by means of which Mercede should be introduced to 
 Roman society. Upon one thing only the latter 
 insisted, that she should be presented and known 
 hereafter by the name of Andre ; and this being 
 readily acceded to, she accepted gratefully the pro- 
 posed plan. It was, that a large reception should be 
 given by the Marquis and his wife in her honor, until 
 which occasion Rome should be kept in ignorance of 
 her advent.
 
 A NINE DAYS' WONDER. 183 
 
 The invitations were sent out immediately, and for 
 the ten days intervening, the city was full of the flut- 
 ter which attends a new social sensation. And why 
 not ? Life, according to a well-known writer, " is 
 composed of a series of small sensations ; " and surely 
 this occasion combined the uncertainty of a debut with 
 the gratification of a most normal curiosity. All the 
 elect studied anew the various productions of the 
 distinguished visitor's work, on the chance of find- 
 ing opportunity to rejoice her with their impressions. 
 But beyond all other preliminary sensations was sur- 
 prise at the auspices under which the artist was to 
 make her appearance ; and social Rome craned its 
 neck in every direction to discover some one who 
 could explain the matter. But it remained a mystery 
 even to Mr. Peter Dow. The Duke Faviola and his 
 wife were undoubtedly the most likely persons to 
 satisfy this curiosity, and to them Mr. Dow went. 
 He found, however, that while sharing his interest 
 they also shared his ignorance. 
 
 " When I spoke of Madame Andre," said the 
 Duchess, " my brother merely laughed, and the Mar- 
 chesa said that they entertain so seldom they feel 
 justified in importing the latest Parisian novelty." 
 
 There was a pause, during which the Duchess 
 thought of her forthcoming costume. 
 
 " It can't be your sister's long-lost cousin ! " sug- 
 gested Mr. Dow, verily inspired. 
 
 " No, her name was Finelli ; and besides, she has 
 been living somewhere near Florence, I think." 
 
 " Well, we shall know next Thursday. But it 
 is rather surprising that neither the Marquis nor
 
 184 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 his wife has ever mentioned Madame Andre to any 
 one." 
 
 Tea was then served, and the visitor noticed that 
 there were only two cups upon the tray. 
 
 " The Duke and Gaeta are off somewhere to- 
 gether," he said confidently. 
 
 " No ; Gaeta is studying, and the Duke is cleaning 
 his guns." 
 
 " Indeed ! " and he thought what a bad habit it was 
 to trust circumstantial evidence. " Gaeta has made 
 wonderful progress in her music ! " he added aloud. 
 
 " Do you think so ? Signor Veltri is certainly a 
 splendid master." 
 
 " It was a lucky day for him when he went to the 
 Villa d' Este." 
 
 " I suppose the interest my brother and his wife 
 have taken in him has helped him." 
 
 " Helped him ! I should think so ! Between 
 3'ou, you 've made him. He told me himself that 
 his time has all been taken since the winter Gaeta 
 became his pupil." 
 
 " I am very glad ; he merits success, and is so mod- 
 est that there is no danger of his being spoiled." 
 
 Mr. Dow's e} r ebrows and lips indicated scepticism. 
 "About his ability I agree with you, but as to his 
 modesty I must differ." Then in reply to the sur- 
 prise on his companion's face he continued, " He is 
 already a little spoiled, indeed, very much spoiled; 
 only last week at the Countess Fabiani's he left the 
 piano because some people near him were talking." 
 
 " Do you blame him for that ? " 
 
 " Certainly I do. What business has a young player
 
 A NINE DAYS' WONDER. 185 
 
 to insist upon people listening to his playing who 
 prefer to talk ? " 
 
 " Perhaps he feared he was disturbing them," she 
 suggested gravely. 
 
 Mr. Dow laughed. " If that 's the best defence 
 you can make for your prote'ge', I think our opinions 
 are not far apart." 
 
 " Was he paid to play ? " asked the Duchess. 
 
 " I suppose not ; I hear that he won't play for 
 money in salons." 
 
 " Then he was a guest, and entitled to equal con- 
 sideration with any other guest." 
 
 " In a certain sense, yes ; but he was invited to 
 play." 
 
 "And he was amiable enough to try. Suppose it 
 had been my sister playing a violin, would those 
 people have gone on talking ? " 
 
 " Of course not ; but that would have been quite 
 different." 
 
 "You mean that she is an aristocrat and Signer 
 Veltri is merely a music-teacher. 
 
 " Well, yes ; that : s about it." 
 
 " He holds a different opinion evidently, and took 
 that method of expressing it. I think he was quite 
 right." 
 
 " Do you really ? " 
 
 " I do, indeed. Signor Veltri is a gentleman in every 
 fibre, only he is poor and not high-born. His talent 
 originally won him an introduction into some houses 
 where he soon made himself welcome as a gentleman, 
 as in my sister's house and in mine. When he comes 
 as a teacher he is most punctual and faithful ; when
 
 186 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 he comes as a guest he throws away the teacher. If 
 he is invited to play he does so as a guest, not as a 
 professional player, and if that fact is not clearly 
 recognized he emphasizes it ; and I say again he is 
 right." 
 
 Her auditor regarded her with genuine surprise. 
 " Et tu, Brute ! " he exclaimed. " I begin to believe 
 that the Marchese's democratic sentiments are in- 
 fectious, and I won't deny that I look upon them as 
 an unfortunate disease." 
 
 They did not continue the discussion, but on his 
 way to his bachelor's apartment Mr. Dow carefully 
 reviewed the Duchess's words. 
 
 " It 's all very well for people in her position to 
 talk so," he muttered, "she can afford to; but all 
 the same I 'm not sure, if she 's ever called upon to 
 act up to her theory, that she '11 stick to it. It makes 
 a mighty difference whether one sits in the jury-box 
 or in the dock." 
 
 The apartment of the Marquis Loreno was admi- 
 rably adapted for a large gathering. 
 
 Upon entering it the night of the reception the 
 guests were conducted through spacious ante-rooms 
 with panelled ceilings, and floors of polished mar- 
 ble strewn with Eastern rugs, to a large hall having 
 three doors, two of which led to dressing-rooms, the 
 third a wide double door giving. entrance to the 
 drawing-room. Beyond the drawing-room was the 
 ball-room, in the balcony of which the musicians 
 were hidden behind a mass of plants. From one side 
 of this immense room two doors led to a refreshment-
 
 A NINE DAYS 1 WONDER. 187 
 
 room, at the farther end of which was a conservatory. 
 The rooms were brilliant with lights and fragrant with 
 flowers. Servants in bright livery performed their 
 part of the pageant with appropriate unction ; and the 
 gay uniforms of officers and the court dress of diplo- 
 mats, mingled with the dazzling toilets of Rome's fair- 
 est women, combined to make a scene of uncommon 
 splendor. Loreno understood well how sensitive to 
 dramatic effect his countrymen are, and he used this 
 knowledge skilfully. 
 
 Agatha, in ivory satin, tall and lovely, Mercede 
 in garnet velvet, dark and majestic, stood together 
 before a superb marble figure of Destiny, a repro- 
 duction of the work which had won Madame Andre* 
 fame. It was the figure of a woman, the character of 
 whose face suggested that of the artist ; but its lines 
 were broader, and the expression wonderfully vivid 
 was that of a sibyl inspired. The draped body, 
 though upright, was at rest, evidently borne onward 
 by myriads of angels to the place ordained of God. A 
 dark plush screen threw the figure into strong relief, 
 and covered jets of gas cast a mellow light upon it. 
 
 Its effect was electric upon the throng of guests who 
 pressed forward to be presented to the celebrity. 
 
 The striking beauty of the Contessina Ricci, which 
 Rome had remarked so well during the winter of her 
 de"but, was instantly recognized in the more mature 
 but added brilliancy of Madame Andre*. The sur- 
 prise was complete, the method dramatic. 
 
 Mercede, in spite of her apparent self-possession, 
 watched anxiously during the first hour for indica- 
 tions of the feeling which should follow that of sur-
 
 188 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 prise. She noted closely the character of the glances 
 directed toward her, especially those of the women. 
 
 In the mean time Loreno busied himself on all sides 
 helping to form public opinion. He varied his words 
 to suit his audience, but his general theme was regret 
 that so great an artist should bestow upon the French 
 capital the lustre of her name. This patriotic senti- 
 ment soon impregnated the atmosphere, sweeping 
 before it all social misgiving ; for Rome, like the 
 rest of the world, finds it easy to condone the do- 
 mestic eccentricities of its renowned children ; and 
 Madame Andre" seemed to be, and was, practically, a 
 different person from the tall dark girl who ran away 
 with a lieutenant. If she had now run away from 
 the lieutenant it mattered little ; her success justified 
 her. Such genius should not be confined to the 
 limited span of a soldier's home. The Marchese was 
 right : she belonged to the world, and the world had 
 claimed her; now if Rome could content her, how 
 fortunate for Rome. 
 
 Thus the first hour established her position. She 
 felt it, she saw. it ; and as one after another pressed 
 around her with pleas that she would remain among 
 them, she recognized the guiding hand, and her grati- 
 tude went out to Loreno. 
 
 Now, too, she knew why he had urged her to fin- 
 ish the statue before she left Paris: it was for this 
 occasion, this hour of triumph toward which her 
 thoughts had turned yearningly for many years. 
 She was excited, happy, exultant ; and as Filippo 
 joined the group surrounding her, her eyes sought 
 his expressively.
 
 A NINE DAYS' WONDER. 189 
 
 "You have found quite as many old friends as 
 new, I am sure," he said. 
 
 " Where all are so cordial, it is difficult to dis- 
 tinguish between them." 
 
 " I wish you could have heard all the comments 
 that have reached me about the statue." 
 
 She laughed quietly as she said, " I think I have 
 heard more than is good for me. I am reminded of 
 what Goethe said, that one never does a good 
 thing but his friends do their best to prevent his 
 doing another." 
 
 " Is your enthusiasm for Goethe as ardent as it 
 used to be? " 
 
 " More ardent. I find him the most sympathetic 
 of writers." 
 
 Several protests arose from her listeners, who ad- 
 vanced the claims of other authors, and Loreno took 
 advantage of the discussion to slip away to Agatha, 
 who stood near by. 
 
 " Marchese ! " called Mercede, presently, " pray 
 come to my assistance. These friends are quoting at 
 me in all languages and dialects." 
 
 At this moment Loreno was confronted by Mr. Peter 
 Dow, who apologized copiously for his late arrival. 
 
 Agatha presented him to Mercede, upon whom he 
 beamed radiantly. 
 
 " I am not strong on poetry," Loreno remarked, 
 " but my friend Mr. Dow is an authority. I commend 
 him as a valuable ally ; " and turning away, he again 
 joined his wife. 
 
 In a few moments exclamations of pleasure from 
 the group caused them to turn.
 
 190 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Marchese Agatha, dear ! " Madame Andre 
 called, " you must hear what a pretty translation one 
 of the American poets has made to Grossi's words." 
 
 As Agatha and Filippo joined her, she turned to 
 Mr. Do\v. 
 
 " Come," she said, " we must repeat our recita- 
 tions, but a little differently ; I '11 recite one verse 
 at a time, and you must give its translation." 
 
 And thus they repeated alternately the poem of 
 which the following is the English version. 
 
 " Swallow from beyond the sea, 
 That with every dawning day, 
 
 Sitting on the balcony, 
 
 Utterest thy plaintive lay, 
 
 What is that thou tellcst me, 
 Swallow from beyond the sea ? 
 
 " Haply thou for him who went 
 From thee, and forgot his mate, 
 
 Dost lament to my lament, 
 Widowed, lonely, desolate. 
 
 Ever, then, lament with me, 
 Swallow from beyond the sea ! 
 
 " Happier yet art thou than I ; 
 
 Thee thy trusty wings may bear 
 Over lake and cliff to fly, 
 
 Filling witli thy cries the air, 
 Calling him continually, 
 
 Swallow from beyond the sea ! 
 
 " Could I too ! but I must pine 
 In this dungeon close and low, 
 
 Where the sun can never shine, 
 Where the breeze can never blow, 
 
 Where thy voice scarce reaches me, . 
 Swallow from beyond the sea !
 
 A NINE DAYS' WONDER. 191 
 
 " Now September days are near, 
 
 Thou to distant lands wilt fly ; 
 In another hemisphere 
 
 Other streams shall hear thy cry ; 
 Other hills shall answer thee, 
 
 Swallow from beyond the sea ! 
 
 " Then shall I, when daylight glows, 
 
 Waking to the sense of pain, 
 Midst the wintry frosts and snows, 
 
 Think I hear thy notes again, 
 Notes that seem to grieve for me, 
 
 Swallow from beyond the sea ! 
 
 "Planted here upon the ground, 
 
 Thou shall find a cross in spring ; 
 There, as evening gathers round, 
 
 Swallow, come and rest thy wing. 
 Chant a strain of peace to me, 
 
 Swallow from beyond the sea ! " 
 
 " What a charming translation ! " exclaimed Loreno. 
 "Whose is it?" 
 
 " It was made," Mr. Dow answered, " by our Amer- 
 ican poet Bryant." 
 
 " Indeed ! " said Agatha. " How strange that I 
 never have seen it ! I thought my edition of his 
 poems was complete." 
 
 " I think," was the answer, " that it is not in- 
 cluded in any published edition of Mr. Bryant's 
 works." 
 
 " Won't you write the translation for me ? " urged 
 Agatha. 
 
 " With pleasure." 
 
 Mr. Dow 'was elated. He felt that he had shone 
 a consciousness tending to induce good- will ; es- 
 pecially toward that fellow-creature who tilted the
 
 192 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 bushel. Therefore Mercede had bound Mr. Dow 
 hand and foot, so far as his social disapproval of 
 *' mere artists " might have fallen upon her. 
 
 " I 'm sure you must be tired," said Agatha to her 
 cousin. " Filippo, won't you take Mercede to get a 
 glass of wine ? " 
 
 Thereupon the artist slipped her hand through her 
 host's arm, the brilliant throng greeting her with com- 
 pliments and smiles as she passed up the long aisle 
 made for her. 
 
 Her father, who was talking with the Duke Faviola, 
 caught her eye as she passed, and smiled fondly. 
 She paused and spoke to him, and he presented the 
 Duke. 
 
 " We have already been introduced," Madame 
 Andre said. " Even a less kind hostess than Agatha 
 would scarcely have withheld such a pleasure from 
 me." 
 
 The tall Duke merely bowed. 
 
 " The first time I met you, Marchese," she contin- 
 ued, turning to Loreno, " you had just come from 
 the Duke's villa. I remember the fact, because you 
 spoke so often of the Duke's charming home, and of 
 your little niece." She turned again to the Duke: 
 " Is your daughter here to-night ? " 
 
 " Yes ; she has just gone into the conservatory. 
 She has been dancing, and became heated." And as 
 he spoke of Gaeta his manner grew less frigid. 
 
 Mercede, perceiving this, followed the cue. " I 
 wish so much to see the child," were' her words ; 
 " after I have had my wine you must take me to 
 the conservatory, Marchese." And nodding brightly
 
 A NINE DAYS' WOXDER. 193 
 
 to her father, and with a gracious bow to the Duke, 
 she wended her way toward the supper-room. 
 
 Ten minutes later they found Gaeta seated upon 
 a low settee in the midst of orange-trees, looking 
 into the face of Signer Veltri, who was standing be- 
 fore her talking gayly. Loreno pointed her out. 
 
 " Who is her companion ? " asked Mercede. 
 
 " A musician named Veltri ; he is her piano- 
 master." 
 
 " You are consistently democratic; " and she laughed 
 quietly. 
 
 " If you please ; but this is a case of liking a man, 
 and regarding myself as master of my own house." 
 
 "It must make some of your guests open their 
 eyes." 
 
 "If they don't like it, they can easily open my 
 doors." 
 
 Signor Veltri now caught sight of them. " Even 
 the guest of the evening," he exclaimed, " deigns to 
 follow our lead." 
 
 " It is a most fascinating retreat," Mercede re- 
 joined, taking for granted that he had been presented ; 
 " but I have really come to make the acquaintance of 
 Donna Gaeta." 
 
 " Won't you sit down ?" said Gaeta, primly. Mer- 
 cede took the proffered place, and devoted herself 
 to the young girl. 
 
 Gaeta was a wide-eyed little maiden of the con- 
 ventional Italian type, whose chief characteristic was 
 her dignity. She was self-conscious on the present 
 occasion, feeling the necessity of not betraying the 
 fact that this was her first ball. 
 
 13 

 
 194 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 "Are you enjoying yourself?" asked Loreno 
 patronizingly, when a pause in the conversation 
 occurred. 
 
 " Immensely ! " 
 
 " Is the music good I mean for dancing ? " 
 Madame Andre asked. 
 
 " Perfectly splendid ! " 
 
 " And the floor ? " added Loreno. 
 
 " Divine!" 
 
 "What do you say to trying it?" he suggested 
 to Mercede ; and a few moments later they were glid- 
 ing around the room together. As the excitement 
 brought a rich color to Madame Andre's cheeks, 
 many admiring glances were bent upon her brilliant 
 beauty.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A LITTLE LEAVEN. 
 
 WITHIN a few weeks Madame Andre was firmly 
 installed as a resident and society pet of Rome. She 
 hired a studio in a villa outside the Porta del Popolo, 
 to which she transferred all her work from Paris. 
 She threw this studio open one afternoon of each 
 week, and her receptions became a marked social 
 feature of the season. Commissions were pressed 
 upon her, but success did not affect the care and 
 thought which distinguished her work, and her 
 artistic growth continued to be remarkable. 
 
 Although she seldom paid visits during the hours 
 of daylight, she often passed the evening with the 
 Lorenos. 
 
 It was during one of these informal visits that 
 Agatha broached the subject of one of her charities. 
 It was an organization following the general lines of 
 the Girls' Friendly Society, of London, which she 
 sketched briefly. In its behalf she proposed giving 
 a performance of Schumann's " Pilgrimage of the 
 Rose," and she asked Mercede to interest herself 
 in its success. 
 
 " I like the musical idea," was Mercede's reply, 
 "but choose another charit}' for its object, for 
 example, indigent artists or art students. I should
 
 196 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 not be willing to give my time or name to aid the 
 charity you have sketched." 
 
 Then, as so often happens with ardent natures, her 
 strength of conviction overpowered her judgment, 
 moving her so greatly that she dashed on, not only 
 impulsively but heedlessly. Exuberance of feeling 
 always quickened her natural tendency to extrava- 
 gance of expression, and, being intolerant of any 
 opposition, when she was opposed in some pet theory 
 her soul verily rose in arms. At such times, she 
 would rush upon her opponent with an impetuosity 
 that was effective solely because her thrusts were so 
 vigorous that mere intellectual fencing (that delight- 
 ful exercise of one's wits) became impossible, and 
 there was left only a choice between earnest conflict 
 and retreat. And thus it was now. 
 
 "What is it you propose to do?" she continued, 
 " encourage purity of life, dutifulness to parents, 
 faithfulness to employers. You propose eventually 
 granting that your plan works out as perfectly as the 
 denouement in a fairy story to establish a lodging- 
 house, a bureau for servants, a hospital and a poor- 
 house, disguised under prettier names, an emigration 
 office, and a reading-room, all good things, but 
 plenty of them are already established and crying 
 for patronage. But were this not true, and I see 
 that you already have twenty arguments each heavy 
 enough to knock my poor opinion into atoms, I 
 should still oppose your plan upon its moral theory. 
 I 'm opposed to women banding together that they 
 may lean upon one another. Women are feeble 
 enough now, without creating a hot-house to force
 
 A LITTLE LEAVEN. 197 
 
 their flabbiness. What they need is to accustom 
 themselves to stand firmly on their own feet, be it a 
 question of judgment, will, or morals. This ' united 
 we stand, divided we fall ' principle for women, is in 
 my opinion as pernicious as it can be." 
 
 "When you wished to perfect your talent for 
 sculpture," Agatha replied, "'you surrounded your- 
 self with those whose aims were your own ; you 
 placed yourself in an atmosphere of art. But this 
 did not weaken your individuality. This did not 
 enervate your innate strength. And so with these 
 girls: what applied to you artistically, applies to 
 them morally, only with much greater force." 
 
 Mercede laughed impatiently. " The two things 
 cannot be compared," she exclaimed, " and I am sur- 
 prised that you should name them in the same 
 breath. My art was a jewel, the unsuspected pos- 
 session of which was revealed to me. I could not 
 unlock its casket, and so sought some one who could. 
 But virtue is a vastty different thing. All women 
 are born with it, as with stomachs ; they are as 
 familiar with the penalty of trifling with the one as 
 with the other. We all sneer at Adam for saying, 
 ' 'T was the woman,' but I 've no greater patience 
 with women who snivel, 4 'Twas the man.' Why 
 don't you start an anti-indigestion society ? " 
 
 " Surely, Mercede," and Agatha's voice betrayed 
 both surprise and pain, " surety you are not serious 
 in regarding this grave question so flippantly. It 
 is n't that the girls don't know, but that they are 
 tempted. As the Milanese say, ' You were not 
 born with your eyes shut ;' and you have now been
 
 198 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 in Paris for six years. Have you seen nothing there 
 but what is faultless? Have you learned nothing 
 of the world ? If so, ask any candid man if such a 
 society as mine would be useful." 
 
 Mercede shrugged her shoulders, but controlled 
 any other evidence of irritation. 
 
 " I 'm rather too busy a woman," she laughed, " to 
 take my lantern and go in search of an honest man. 
 No doubt some excellent results do occasionally 
 come from such work, but it seems to me that a 
 woman in your position has other duties quite as 
 important in the social economy." 
 
 "I think most of us can make time for social 
 duties as well as for graver responsibilities," Agatha 
 replied. " Yet I know from experience that one 
 needs to be watchful to keep an equitable balance." 
 
 " I 'm glad to hear you say that," responded Mer- 
 cede with emphasis, " for you are altogether too 
 important a factor of this indolent Roman society to 
 devote too much of your energy to interests outside 
 of Filippo's career. I hear all sorts of prophecies for 
 him, in which, naturally, I am deeply concerned. 
 Nearly all the old giants are gone, and with a little 
 patience and policy his place seems assured ; but the 
 social lever is unquestionably powerful, and should not, 
 of course, be sacrificed to charitable work ; above all, 
 his own interests should not be too much divided." 
 
 "I think," said Agatha, gravely, "that no loving 
 wife would be likely to lose sight of her husband's 
 future, or of his usefulness to his country. But, 
 after all, there are certain matters which each wife 
 must determine for herself."
 
 A LITTLE LEAVEN. 199 
 
 " Oh, of course ! " and both relapsed into an awk- 
 ward silence which Agatha broke in a moment by 
 speaking of a new topic. 
 
 As Mercede walked home she had a feeling of dis- 
 satisfaction. She tried to throw it off by talking 
 rapidly to Francesco ; but her mind was like quick- 
 sand, the more a fact struggled to free itself the 
 deeper it sank. Upon reaching home she went di- 
 rectly to her room and threw herself into a chair. 
 
 In Paris she and Loreno had become fast friends, 
 for in addition to her beauty and power of fascination, 
 her kinship to Agatha had appealed strongly to the 
 Marquis ; and as it was his nature to reveal himself 
 frankly, if at all, he had given Mercede every oppor- 
 tunity of knowing him quickly. She speedily dis- 
 covered, of course, his love for her cousin, and this 
 quickened her interest in him. Her own affection for 
 Agatha was strong, and she threw herself heart and 
 soul into the union of these two lives ; the romantic 
 quality of her nature finding courage to reassert it- 
 self in connection with experiences independent of 
 her own bruised heart. 
 
 Whenever she thought of returning to Rome, she 
 dwelt eagerly upon the almost ideal relation which 
 would exist between the Lorenos and herself. Aga- 
 tha would be even closer than before, while Filippo 
 would be as a brother to her. 
 
 Agatha was glad that the cousin who loved her so 
 well found her husband sympathetic, and from the 
 day of Mercede's arrival she had done what she could 
 to foster the cordial relations between them. In- 
 deed, in her endeavor to demonstrate her idol's
 
 200 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 superior merits and peculiar virtues, she gradually 
 overcame her reluctance to betray her innermost feel- 
 ings to any other than her husband, and in moments 
 of special confidence, responding to Mercede's eager 
 interest with this sacred part of her life, she joyfully 
 poured out her pure passion. But, alas ! Mercede 
 listened as did the rose in the sweet German legend, 
 bemoaning the fate which denied her such joy. 
 True, she had known marriage, but never unity like 
 this. She listened with bated breath and drank in 
 each syllable, coveting such sympathy as Agatha told 
 of, and longing to yield the same worthy adoration. 
 
 " For wintry bosoms too, 
 That seem of hope forsaken, 
 At thy sweet tones awaken, 
 And dream of joy anew." 
 
 The yearning was an abstract one. Without per- 
 sonifying it, she loved to yield to its fascination ; she 
 bade fair to become its slave. Agatha, having no 
 suspicion of this, continued to feed her cousin's eager 
 interest, through gratitude for what she believed to 
 be an unselfish sympathy. 
 
 There was, however, a potent factor of which 
 neither cousin had taken account. Human nature 
 sometimes has a way of backing and shying when we 
 would guide it calmly ; and it was this unhappy fact 
 that was partly responsible for the present state of 
 Mercede's mind as she sat in her room and pondered. 
 She had been conscious for some time of a feeling of 
 dissatisfaction with the precise relations which ex- 
 isted between herself and the Lorenos.
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A TETE-A-TETE. 
 
 SiGNOR VELTRI had just finished giving Gaeta her 
 music-lesson. The Duchess was usually present 
 during this hour, but to-day she had been summoned 
 to receive visitors, and the two young enthusiasts 
 were left alone. The master rose promptly as the 
 hour expired ; but Gaeta with one query and another 
 detained him. At last a pause ensued, and he availed 
 himself of it to bid her good-by. 
 
 " Why do you hurry ? " she asked. " You often 
 remain beyond this time." 
 
 " But to-day the lesson is finished." 
 
 " So it is; but I think I 've heard you say that you 
 are sometimes glad to throw aside music." 
 
 " So I am, Signorina." 
 
 " Then why not sit down and throw it aside ? " 
 
 He looked into the bright face unmarked by a line 
 of care, and seemed tempted to yield. 
 
 " Come ! " she urged, " treat me as a friend for 
 once, and forget that I 'm your stupid pupil." 
 
 " I think I had better go," he replied, " for after 
 all, I am only your music-teacher." 
 
 " You are our friend," she said. 
 
 He looked at her steadily as the color left his face. 
 " I am not unappreciative, Signorina, of your kind
 
 202 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 disposition, but I must not permit myself to forget 
 that I come at this hour in a professional capacity." 
 
 " The professional hour is past." 
 
 " And for that reason I should go." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " and she smiled and tossed her head ; 
 " the truth is, you 're not interested in what I have to 
 tell you." 
 
 " To tell me ? " and his brown eyes opened wide. 
 
 " Yes ; I 'm going to be presented at Court." 
 
 Instead of showing the interest she anticipated, his 
 face fell. 
 
 " There ! " she said reproachfully, " you don't care 
 a button." 
 
 " Indeed, I do," he replied ; " but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 His impulse was to say, " You will then be in 
 a world still farther from mine ; " his spoken words 
 were more wisely chosen. 
 
 " You will not lose a lesson for this reason," he 
 said. 
 
 Her face fell. " No," she replied, " and you 
 wonder, therefore, why I bother you with this mere 
 personal affair. Pray don't let me bore you any 
 longer." And her manner was magnificent. 
 
 " Don't think I 'm not interested," he answered. 
 " It is an important step in your life, and will intro- 
 duce you into still another social world." 
 
 " I suppose it will ; " and she sighed slightly. 
 
 " Are your social burdens already so heavy that 
 you dread this addition ? " he asked, smiling. 
 
 " I don't wish to be presented, if that 's what you 
 mean."
 
 A TTE-A-TTE. 203 
 
 " No ? " and his face Lore genuine surprise. 
 
 " No; I only do it to please mamma." 
 
 He stood studying her face silently while she 
 dropped her eyes and toyed with her rings ; then 
 looking up suddenly she said, " Signor Veltri, you 
 don't understand me very well. I 'm not half so 
 fond of fashion arid society as you think I am ; but 
 I don't care ! " she added rather indefinitely. 
 
 " Surely, Signorina, it is no disgrace to be young 
 and to enjoy one's self." 
 
 "But going out into society isn't pleasant unless 
 one meets one's friends." 
 
 " One makes friends among those whom one meets 
 in society. I 'in sure you must already have met 
 some charming companions of your own rank, and 
 that you will meet inan}^ more before the winter is 
 over." 
 
 " Perhaps I may," she said forlornly. " I 'm sure 
 I hope your wish may come true." 
 
 This way of putting it startled him. Did he wish 
 that she might meet some charming young nobleman 
 who would lay siege to her heart ? 
 
 " Good afternoon, Signorina," he said suddenly, 
 " I must indeed be going," and without further cere- 
 mony he bowed and walked toward the door. 
 
 At that moment it opened, and Mr. Dow's smiling 
 face appeared. He held out his hand cordially to the 
 musician, for since the " swells," as he called them, 
 had taken to petting this talented youth, Mr. Dow 
 had not only ceased to oppose him socially, but 
 had even " cultivated " him a little. So easily is the 
 tender heart of society affected by a good example !
 
 204 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Signer Veltri's face was set, however, and he hur- 
 ried past the effusive visitor as quickly as he could. 
 
 " I heard you were taking your lesson," said Mr. 
 Dow, greeting Gaeta ; " your mamma has friends, and 
 so I took the liberty of coming in here to wait for 
 her/' 
 
 "Won't you sit down?" said Gaeta, rather 
 formally. 
 
 " Your master seemed in a hurry," continued Mr. 
 Dow, who never quite knew how to talk to children 
 or young girls ; " and how solemn he was ! " 
 
 " Was he ? " was the cold answer. 
 
 Mr. Dow felt that he had not begun well. 
 
 "I don't suppose," he said, taking another tack, 
 " that he would ever be cross with one of his charm- 
 ing pupils ; yet it should n't surprise one if his head 
 were a little turned." 
 
 " What should turn it, pray?" 
 
 " The way he 's been taken up by people." 
 
 Gaeta folded her hands in her lap, and leaning 
 forward gazed squarely into her companion's face. 
 " Will you have the kindness to tell me what you 
 mean ? " she said calmly. 
 
 He saw that her calmness was only superficial, for 
 her color grew brilliant. He cudgelled his brains to 
 shape a course that might please her, but his usual 
 nirnbleness and certainty in arriving at a conclusion 
 deserted him. 
 
 "I didn't mean to say a word which should reflect 
 upon Signor Veltri," he began; "he is, so far as I 
 know, a most deserving young man. I only thought 
 that he was annoyed at something." Then shrewdly
 
 A TTE-A-TETE. 205 
 
 noting that he appeared to be rubbing her electric 
 temperament the right way, he followed the clew. 
 
 " One can't help being interested in him," he con- 
 tinued ; " he seems so frank and so er " He 
 hesitated, disconcerted by this mere girl, and wished 
 that he had gone directly into the drawing-room, 
 visitors or no visitors. 
 
 ' So what ? " asked her ladyship. 
 
 " Well so strange," he faltered ; "in spite of his 
 position, as Lord Byron would put it, 
 
 ' Still there was haughtiness in all he did.' " 
 
 "In other words," said Gaeta, "he respects him- 
 self, and so he should. If you happened to know 
 as much about Signor Veltri as we do, you would 
 understand him better." 
 
 " Is he so very deep ? " 
 
 " I know nothing about that, but I do know that 
 he has true manliness." 
 
 He could scarcely believe his ears. He thought 
 that this young girl was repeating, parrot-like, some 
 cant phrase she had heard. What did such a chit 
 know about true manliness? For Mr. Dow little 
 suspected the penetration and soberness of judgment 
 that is often hidden behind the smooth brow of 
 girlhood. 
 
 " What may be your standard of ' true manli- 
 ness'?" and Mr. Dow looked at her quizzically. 
 
 " Self-respect and a kind heart," was the simple 
 answer. 
 
 " Humph ! and has our friend displayed these to 
 you ? "
 
 206 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 "No; he hasn't displayed them, but his life shows 
 them." 
 
 " Indeed ! " and there was a color to his tone that 
 made Gaeta clench her small hands tighter. 
 
 " You don't like Signer Veltri," she said calmly, 
 " and I hope you won't think that what I 'm going to 
 tell you is told on his account, for I don't think he 
 would mind what any one said who knows him so 
 slightly as you do." 
 
 " Oh, I say ! " ejaculated the discomfited listener. 
 
 " But I 'd like to tell you something about him for 
 our sakes ; for we don't like to have our friends 
 spoken ill of in this house." 
 
 " But you entirely misunderstand me ! " Mr. Dow 
 declared. 
 
 " Won't you hear me first, please ? " and she in- 
 clined slightly her proud little head and raised her 
 eyes steadily to his. He was quite awed by this rev- 
 elation of unsuspected dignity, and leaning back in 
 his chair waited attentively for her to continue. 
 
 "Signor Veltri is the youngest of five children, and 
 when he was six years old his father died. His mother 
 managed to get food for her family and to educate 
 them, and when Signor Veltri was fourteen years of 
 age he showed such musical talent that he was sent 
 to Naples. After studying one year he managed (by 
 teaching for one lira an hour, by copying music, and 
 playing accompaniments at concerts) to support him- 
 self and even to help his mother a little. He did this 
 for four years, working terribly ; and at last became 
 a little known, and pla} r ed solos in two or three con- 
 certs. A French Countess who heard him and took
 
 A TTE-A-TTE. 207 
 
 a great interest in him, persuaded him to go with her 
 to France, promising him no end of pupils and concert 
 engagements ; even inviting him to be her guest. He 
 was made a great deal of by her and her friends, but 
 they did nothing to get him either pupils or engage- 
 ments, and he found that he was simply the lady's 
 pet, like her dog or her saddle-horse ; so he broke 
 away from it all, and taking a little room tried to sup- 
 port himself. But the French don't believe much in 
 the Italians as piano-masters, and he nearly starved. 
 Then, realizing that he must begin to work upward 
 if he was ever to be anybod}', he came to Rome and 
 decided either to succeed or fail right here. But 
 the Roman school of music is all Liszt, while he had 
 been trained in the Thalberg school. He did n't care, 
 however, and went to work, and a very hard time he 
 had until the summer we met him at Lake Como. 
 You remember it, for you were there too." 
 
 Mr. Dow inclined his head. 
 
 " When mamma asked him his terms, he said five 
 lire an hour ; and when she said she would pay him 
 ten lire (the same she had paid my other masters), 
 he would n't discuss the matter, but said simply 
 and decidedly that his price was five lire and no 
 more." 
 
 " But he charges ten now," interposed Mr. Dow. 
 
 " Yes ; the following year he doubled his price : 
 First, because he wished to teach fewer hours that he 
 might practise and compose ; and second, because he 
 had assumed the education and support of one of the 
 children of his eldest brother, who is very poor. And 
 through that little boy we learned to know Signor
 
 208 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Veltri's good heart. The little fellow is both deaf 
 and dumb, and Signer Veltri put him in a school for 
 deaf-and-dumb children, where, by paying well, his 
 nephew is made very comfortable. Every Saturday 
 he calls for the child and takes him off for the day, 
 never regretting a minute of the time it costs him. 
 Sometimes they go to the Villa Borghese, sometimes 
 to Frascati or Albano, or to the circus, or for a stroll 
 or drive in the city ; and Signer Veltri with his fingers 
 explains everything to the poor little fellow. My 
 dear lovely Aunt Agatha often invites them to her 
 home, and little Gigi passes the afternoon playing with 
 my cousins Sebastiano and Teresina. They are both 
 younger than he ; but the sensitive child is glad of 
 that, I think, for he feels less at a disadvantage. 
 Signer Veltri is always near him, but Aunt Agatha, 
 who learned the finger alphabet from Signer Veltri, 
 is trying to teach it to Sebastiano, so that he can talk 
 to Gigi. Gigi has a real talent for mathematics, and 
 now Signor Veltri (so he confessed to Aunt Agatha) 
 is saving his money to give the boy a thorough edu- 
 cation in mathematics, and is trying to interest him 
 in astronomy. Uncle Filippo has promised that if 
 Gigi really takes to it, he will, in time, get him a 
 good position under a friend of his who is a profes- 
 sor. That's how the matter stands at present ; and 
 now you know what I call true manliness." 
 
 Peter Dow sat silent for several moments with his 
 eyes fixed upon the stern young girl. 
 
 " Will you believe me," he said presently, .with evi- 
 dent sincerity, " when I tell you that I 'm thoroughly 
 ashamed of myself? And I apologize humbly for
 
 A TTE~A-TTE. 209 
 
 the injustice I did Signor Veltri whom I 'm proud 
 to know." 
 
 The haughty expression fled from Gaeta's face as 
 mist melts before sunshine. 
 
 "I do believe you ! " she exclaimed heartily ; " and 
 now I 'm glad I told you." 
 
 " And what good people your aunt and uncle are ! " 
 he added. 
 
 " Aunt Agatha is an angel ! " Gaeta replied enthu- 
 siastically, " and she 's just the woman for Uncle 
 Filippo. Mamma said the other day," she added 
 confidentially, " that Uncle Filippo was like a blooded 
 race-horse ; if he had n't been well handled he would 
 probably have bolted the course and wasted all his 
 power." 
 
 " What does your father think of Signor Veltri ? " 
 Mr. Dow asked, after a moment's pause. 
 
 " Papa admires him more than any other young 
 man he knows who can't hunt." 
 
 Her companion laughed heartily, but controlled 
 himself as the door opened and the Duchess entered. 
 
 " I heard you were in the house," she said, giving 
 the visitor her hand, " and I pictured you here lonely 
 and sad ; but Gaeta seems to have kept up your 
 spirits." 
 
 " Donna Gaeta has been most interesting. In- 
 deed," he added significantly, " she has taught me 
 something." 
 
 The Duchess turned with a look of puzzled inter- 
 est toward her daughter, who, blushing slightly, re- 
 peated the Italian proverb : Sapia piu il Papa e un 
 contadino, che il Papa solo. 
 
 H
 
 210 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 "What is that?" asked Mr. Dow; "I didn't 
 catch it." 
 
 She repeated a Venetian proverb which says that 
 " the Pope and a peasant are wiser than the Pope 
 alone." 
 
 He had the perception to see that Gaeta wished 
 to avoid disclosing the character of their conversa- 
 tion, and he won her silent approval by aiding and 
 abetting her.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 SMOULDERING FIKE. 
 
 " THAT 's true ! " exclaimed Mercede, shutting her 
 book vigorously. 
 
 " What 's true ? " asked her father, looking up 
 from his newspaper. 
 
 She found her place again. " This is Goethe's idea 
 of a model wife : ' A wife who will everywhere co- 
 operate with him [ her husband] ; who will everywhere 
 prepare his way for him ; whose occupation spreads 
 itself on every side, while his must travel forward on 
 its single path.' That 's precisely my idea. The wo- 
 man should be content to co-operate, not to plunge 
 ahead on her own career, leaving the man behind 
 unless he chooses to grip her skirt and be dragged 
 after her." 
 
 " That is almost an axiom." 
 
 " I know it ; that 's the reason I 'm so astonished 
 when women fail to let it govern them." 
 
 The General kept his thoughts to himself. 
 
 " True," she continued, " Goethe says a woman 
 should prepare the way, but his way, not hers ; and 
 listen to this : ' And where is there any station higher 
 than the ordering of the house, while the husband . . . 
 perhaps takes a sliare in the administration of the
 
 212 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 \ 
 
 State? . . . What is the highest happiness of us mor- 
 tals, if not ... to be really masters of the means con- 
 ducive to our aims ; and where should or can our first 
 and nearest aims be, but within the house ? ' " and the 
 reader laid special stress upon the last words. " ' It is 
 when a woman has gained this domestic mastery that 
 she truly makes the husband, whom she loves, a mas- 
 ter. . . . Thus he can direct his mind to lofty objects, 
 and if fortune favors, he may act in the State the same 
 character which becomes his wife so well at home.' " 
 
 She closed the book again and flung it upon the 
 table. 
 
 " Of course," she added, "general directions don't 
 apply to special cases. My ca.se, for example, is a fair 
 exception. I have a career as natural as it is distinct. 
 It is right, then, that I should follow it; but were I 
 an ordinary woman, who had voluntarily assumed a 
 position which carried with it certain domestic and 
 social obligations, I should n't be doing right if I sac- 
 rificed everything, or at least made everything sub- 
 ordinate, to a cause consisting of a servant's agency 
 and a cheap pension, some flowers in a pot and 
 Heaven knows what else ! " and sie leaned back in 
 her chair and drummed on its arms nervously. 
 
 "Heaven does know, I have no doubt," was the 
 calm reply. 
 
 Mercede turned quickly, as though a sharp retort 
 were on her tongue ; but as she looked into the dear 
 face that smiled benignly into hers, her momentary 
 excitement was allayed, and when she spoke it was 
 gently. 
 
 " Of course, Papa, I don't really mean to belittle
 
 SMOULDERING FIRE. 213 
 
 Agatha's work, but I think she carries it too far, 
 and my anxiety makes me a little bitter against 
 the ' cause,' as she calls it, for which so much is 
 sacrificed." 
 
 " And yet, Mercede mia, what is sacrificed, after 
 all ? Some social bustle and possibly Filippo's more 
 rapid political advancement. Very well ! In the first 
 place, they entertain occasionally, and do it more 
 than handsomely ; and in the next place there are 
 many men competent to carry on the public work, 
 but few able men who are unselfish enough to devote 
 themselves to the less brilliant but equally important 
 tasks in which Filippo is engaged. What does your 
 poet say about our first and nearest aims ? " 
 
 " Where should they be, but within the house ? " 
 she replied. 
 
 " Precisely ! and so Filippo is doing his part for 
 Italy's good within Italy." 
 
 " But think of the career he may be sacrificing for 
 this petty work ! " 
 
 The General's face wore again the benign expres- 
 sion which it had gained rapidly with its increasing 
 marks of age. 
 
 " My child," he said, " when a man of my age 
 looks back upon the past, his chief solace for many 
 sins of omission and commission is found in what he 
 has done for others, not for himself. Believe me, 
 the memory of such deeds makes the softest pillow 
 on which an old man can lay his head each uncertain 
 night." 
 
 His gentle words were not without effect ; but as she 
 pondered upon the undercurrent of indifference to
 
 214 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Filippo's career, which seemed to her to run in every 
 mind except her own, she felt constrained to protest 
 further. 
 
 " But my dear Father," she began, " a statesman's 
 career redounds not only to his own glory but to the 
 benefit of his whole country ; and do you believe that 
 such work as that of Cavour and our other great 
 statesmen was less edifying to their souls than that 
 of the best saint whose beneficence ever won him 
 a place in the calendar ? " 
 
 The blood mantled her cheeks and her eyes grew 
 bright, while her voice took on a clear, bell-like qual- 
 ity which marked it when her blood was up ; and, as 
 usual, vigor rather than fairness distinguished her 
 argument as she continued: " I surely believe, if you 
 do not, that Cavour's brain and Victor Emmanuel's 
 sword were means toward a righteous end quite 
 equal to the best philanthropy the world ever saw. 
 The latter has its place, of course ; but I think it 's a 
 most perverted sentiment that would exalt the phi- 
 lanthropist above the others. Soldiers and statesmen 
 created Italy, soldiers and statesmen must guard her ! 
 If they do not, God help you philanthropists; for you 
 and your model peasantry will be shot, your incom- 
 parable banks will be plundered, and }^our prize 
 flower-pots broken by a less sentimental and Utopian 
 people." 
 
 As he listened the old soldier's face grew black. 
 
 " You go too far, Mercede ! " he exclaimed sternly. 
 "You know, without one word from me, that I am 
 not the man to belittle the great king and the great 
 statesman. You forget that you speak to a soldier,
 
 SMOULDERING FIRE. 215 
 
 and to one who was made a general upon the field of 
 battle ! Let me tell you that we who fought for 
 Italy were impelled by the same great principles that 
 lead Filippo to continue the work our swords made 
 possible. Civilization comes not by war, but is war's 
 recompense. Yet while I would make swords into 
 ploughshares, barracks into schoolhouses, and sol- 
 diers into husbandmen, do you think I am a man to 
 be lectured upon patriotism ? " He stopped, and ex- 
 tending his arm, pointed his trembling fingers at his 
 sword which hung over the mantel. " I may be old," 
 he said with flashing eye, " but I am still General 
 Ricci, and with that sword hanging above your head, 
 how dare you speak so to me ! " 
 
 Mercede at first had seemed like one transfixed, 
 but as he continued she involuntarily rose to her feet 
 and moved toward him. Now throwing herself be- 
 side the chair into which he had sunk, she clasped 
 him in her arms with surging reflux of passion. 
 
 " Forgive me ! " she cried, tearing away the hand 
 with which he had shaded his eyes. " Forgive me, 
 Father ! " 
 
 Self-willed, unyielding as she was, she had done 
 that before which other attributes grow numb in 
 women of her race. Kneeling beside the silent man, 
 with broken voice and trembling lip she humbly 
 poured forth her contrition, nor heeded the tears that 
 streamed down her face as she realized that she, the 
 daughter of an Italian patriot, had cast a slur upon 
 her father's patriotism.
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IN THE VILLA BORGHESE. 
 
 AGATHA was in her element. The fine green 
 slopes of the Villa Borghese, dotted with venerable 
 trees, lay on either side of her, and she was in the 
 midst of a party of children. She was playing a 
 game of catch with them, and a royal romp they 
 were having. Presently two figures were seen ap- 
 proaching, and, in reply to a shout of welcome from 
 the children, the new-comers waved their hats. 
 
 "Who will get to Gigi first?" called Agatha; 
 whereupon the little ones scampered off to greet the 
 boy, who leaving his uncle ran forward to meet 
 them. 
 
 It needed no ears to understand their pleasure at 
 his coming, and as they led him forward chattering 
 like so many magpies, the red lips of the delighted 
 mute parted and exposed his glistening teeth as he 
 glanced happily from one to the other. As he ap- 
 proached Agatha he removed his hat gallantly, and, 
 in reply to a few movements of her fingers, his big 
 brown eyes grew eloquent with gratitude and he 
 respectfully touched her hand with his lips. 
 
 Bending down she kissed him and turned to greet 
 Signer Veltri.
 
 IN THE VILLA BORGHESE. 217 
 
 " You got my message, then ? " she said. 
 
 "Yes, thank you; and Donna Gaeta is coming 
 presently with Mr. Dow." 
 
 " Better and better ! we '11 have a real frolic." 
 Then she explained to Gigi what the children were 
 playing. 
 
 He nodded with a quick, bright smile, and replied 
 that he understood the game perfectly. So presently 
 the fun began again, Agatha and Signer Veltri en- 
 tering into its spirit quite as heartily as their juniors. 
 They were both experienced enough to know that un- 
 less elders play with their whole hearts when they 
 join a circle of children, they had much better hold 
 aloof altogether for how astute such little minds 
 become in detecting a pious fraud ! Veltri could 
 remember distinctly the time when his efforts to imi- 
 tate a distant locomotive whistle seemed to startle his 
 father, who always awaited this signal before going 
 to the adjacent station ; and the result was a source 
 of great glee to the child until one morning his father 
 overacted his part, and the sensitive little mind felt 
 the ignominy of being thus trifled with, and the whis- 
 tle was never repeated. Therefore he now used all 
 the tact he possessed to appear to be honestly enjoy- 
 ing the sport ; but indeed, when it was his turn to 
 catch some one and he started after Agatha, he had 
 need of his best effort, for she raced across the lawn 
 like a sprinter, darting here and there, doubling and 
 turning, and foiling him so cleverly that the children 
 were in ecstasy. But suddenly the pursuer turned 
 and dashed at the youngsters, and then with re- 
 doubled shouts they 'scattered in every direction in a
 
 218 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 wild panic. Gigi was caught, and now took up the 
 task his uncle had surrendered. Like a greyhound 
 he raced after the fleet-footed Marchesa, accompanied 
 by the renewed excitement of his companions, until 
 at last the victory was his and Agatha was caught. 
 Then came a scamper indeed, and the approach of 
 Peter Dow and Gaeta was unnoticed. 
 
 " What a race you and Veltri had ! " Mr. Dow 
 exclaimed as Agatha came forward to greet them, 
 her cheeks glowing and her eyes sparkling. "But 
 don't you think it a little dangerous to make a habit 
 of exercising so violently ? " 
 
 " You don't suppose that Signor Veltri and I play 
 this game whenever we meet, do you?" s.he responded 
 
 gay!}'- 
 
 " But I do really think that you ought to be careful 
 not to overdo it," he urged. 
 
 " Come ; join in ! " she commanded. 
 
 "I?" 
 
 " Certainly ! " 
 
 " But I never run." 
 
 "Then it will do you good. Here, Sebastiano, 
 catch Signor Dow I Look out ! " she called to that 
 discomfited gentleman, who, startled into his boy- 
 hood's instinct of self-preservation, found himself, ere 
 he knew it, rushing hither and thither, hatless and 
 breathless, his eye-glass bobbing against his back- 
 bone, and his long legs making wondrous play. 
 
 " Bravo ! two to one on the Phenomenon ! " cried 
 a clear voice before him, as he stopped, panting but 
 saved, little Sebastiano being yards upon yards in 
 the rear.
 
 IN THE VILLA BORGHESE. 219 
 
 " What a deer you are ! " exclaimed Madame Andre", 
 leaving her companion, the Duke Faviola, and reach- 
 ing behind Mr. Dow's back to restore his eye-glass 
 to him. 
 
 He could not speak without breath, and therefore 
 smiled, wanly. 
 
 " Was it a level start, or a handicap ? " she inquired 
 earnestly. 
 
 " Whew! " was the only sound he could utter. 
 
 " Is this the final heat, or do you run again? " and 
 she looked up at him most seriously. 
 
 " Never ! " he gasped. 
 
 " I did n't know you were fond of athletics," said 
 the Duke, cordially, as he joined them. 
 
 " I 'm not ; this is n't a habit, it 's an accident." 
 
 " Then it 's the second lucky accident within ten 
 minutes," said Mercede ; " the first was meeting the 
 Duke." 
 
 Mr. Dow felt foolish. His admiration for Madame 
 Andre" was great, and he flattered himself that she 
 always treated him with special consideration. Now, 
 to appear before her in this aspect annoyed, even 
 mortified him, for he was sure that a big man like 
 himself running away from a small boy like Se- 
 bastiano must have appeared ridiculous. He wished 
 to explain, and yet feared that the incident would 
 gather importance by being dwelt upon. There 
 seemed nothing left but to make a virtue of it. 
 
 " One likes to help the little ones amuse them- 
 selves," he suggested. 
 
 " It 's only a prig who never unbends ; " and Mer- 
 cede's manner, as well as her words, greatly restored
 
 220 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 his self-complacency. " Where is Filippo ? " she 
 added, looking around the group. " I thought that 
 he usually came with the children." 
 
 " Filippo is with his sister," answered the Duke. 
 " They will drive here later." 
 
 " Do you often come here ? " inquired Mr. Dow of 
 his bronzed companion. 
 
 " Occasionally ; but the Campagna and the sur- 
 rounding hills are more to my taste." 
 
 " Too much style here, and all that sort of thing," 
 and Mr. Dow nodded knowingly ; " I understand. 
 These parks are not bad to stretch one's legs in ; 
 but, as you say, there 's too much style." 
 
 " That 's precisely what I come for," the bearded 
 giant replied ; " otherwise I 'd always go to the 
 hills. Sometimes I like to see my lady friends, 
 and I find them here, well dressed, as women should 
 be." 
 
 " Then don't look at me, please," said Mercede, 
 44 for I 've just come from the studio ; but feast 
 your eyes upon Agatha. Is n't that a lovely cos- 
 tume of hers? Who would think that it disguises a 
 reformer?" 
 
 They had been approaching Agatha, and she turned 
 as she heard their voices. 
 
 " The Duke is admiring your costume, Agatha 
 dear," Mercede exclaimed. 
 
 " I hope for his sake that he is : latest from Ma- 
 dame Tua." And Agatha turned completely around 
 for his inspection. 
 
 "I've dressed more women that Mesdames Tua 
 and Borla .combined," the Duke replied, smiling in
 
 IN THE VILLA BORGHESE. 221 
 
 turn. " I found my clients universally arrayed in 
 black, and apportioning to each a piece of every 
 colored stuff I had with me, I soon brightened things 
 up. I was also court jeweller, and bedecked my cus- 
 tomers in every tint and variety of Venetian beads, 
 and yards upon yards of Roman pearls." 
 
 " Oh, you mean the lady savages of New Guinea ! " 
 laughed Mercede. 
 
 " Precisely ! For in such matters the Duchess 
 and Gaeta despise my taste." 
 
 " Why, papa ! " called Gaeta, turning from Signor 
 Veltri, with whom she had been speaking rather 
 apart, " you know that we agree perfectly in some 
 respects, for instance, about the sticks." 
 
 He laughed quietly. " Yes, that is true ; you 
 never admired those photographs much, did you? 
 The ladies there," he explained, " distend their nos- 
 trils with sticks." 
 
 The children now began to protest against the in- 
 terruption ; so Agatha, reinforced by Mercede and by 
 the Duke (whose reticence and shyness disappeared 
 in the company of children), soon had them hard at 
 play again, while Mr. Dow looked on benignly, and 
 the young musician and his pupil again sat apart 
 under the spreading branches of a fine old tree. 
 
 "You must be very proud of your father," said 
 the youth. 
 
 " I am ; I think he 's heavenly." 
 
 Veltri sighed gently. "A woman must respect 
 a man or she can't really care for him, I suppose." 
 
 " I don't know, I 'm sure, how it is with other 
 girls; / can't."
 
 222 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I suppose not ; " and he sank into an abyss of 
 gloom. 
 
 " Yet I don't know that I ought to say that," and 
 she became very judicial of manner, " for I do know 
 a man whom I don't think I respect so very much, 
 and yet I like him pretty well." 
 
 Veltri winced slightly. " I suppose I know to 
 whom you refer." 
 
 " He made me awfully angry the other night after 
 you left," she continued confidentially, " and I just 
 hated him ; but afterward he seemed so sorry that I 
 liked him better than I ever had at all." 
 
 Her companion brightened as she spoke. " Oh, 
 you mean Mr. Dow ! " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " He is too old to think of getting married, and he 
 is fortunate." 
 
 " Do you think so?" 
 
 " Yes ; but let us speak of something more in- 
 teresting. You are too young to think of such 
 things." 
 
 The color came into her cheeks and she was evi- 
 dently piqued. 
 
 " I wish you could get the idea out of your mind," 
 she said, " that I 'm an infant. I hate to have my 
 youth and inexperience thrown at me as though I 
 were no older than those children. Ever since I can 
 remember, I 've been' told that I was too young to 
 understand first this thing and then that thing ; and 
 just as mamma drops the words, the rest of the 
 world takes them up. It's annoying, and I don't 
 like it!"
 
 /AT THE VILLA BORGHESE. 223 
 
 " I 'ra very sorry. You must know that I would 
 not willingly annoy you." 
 
 " I had supposed so until this moment," she re- 
 plied haughtily. 
 
 " Perhaps I 'd better go and look after Gigi," he 
 suggested. 
 
 " As you choose ; but I don't see why you should n't 
 try to amuse one child as well as another." 
 
 " Don't be angry with me," he pleaded ; " I did n't 
 mean any offence. To tell the truth, I don't enjoy 
 talking about marriage, because well, because a 
 poor music-teacher has no business to think of such 
 things." 
 
 " Is that all you are ? " she demanded, looking him 
 in the eye. 
 
 " Yes ; at least, so far as income is concerned." 
 
 " Is that all you intend to be ? " she continued, 
 with the same full gaze upon his face. 
 
 He flushed and hesitated. " Frankly, no ! I 'm 
 going to be something more." 
 
 " Then don't begin by sneering at yourself. Your 
 playing and teaching are very convenient rounds in 
 your ladder, but I don't think those who know you 
 mistake them for rounds in a treadmill." 
 
 He sat for several minutes silent. 
 
 " You may be young," and he smiled brightly as 
 he spoke the offensive words, " but you are wiser than 
 I am." 
 
 " Yes, I think I am in some things," she re- 
 plied. 
 
 So engaged were they with each other that neither 
 saw the arrival of the Duchess and Filippo, and
 
 224 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 they turned with surprise as the voice of the Marquis 
 greeted them. 
 
 " Were you quarrelling over Wagner, that you 
 looked so serious ? " he asked. 
 
 " No, over his successor," answered Gaeta. 
 
 " And pray, who is he to be ? " inquired her 
 mother. 
 
 " We wish that we knew." 
 
 " There seems to be absolutely no one to take his 
 place," continued the Duchess, musingly. 
 
 " At present, Mamma, no," Gaeta said ; " but with 
 time ' the mulberry-leaf becomes satin.' ' 
 
 " Ah ! " and the clever mother, divining the drift 
 of her child's thought, was amused at her girlish 
 enthusiasm for her master. 
 
 But the Duchess seldom sneered, and besides, had 
 too much respect for the young musician and too 
 much consideration for her darling's feelings, to 
 wound either by an unnecessary comment. 
 
 " What a good time the children are having ! " she 
 said ; " and there is little Gigi too ! " 
 
 They followed her glance, and a few yards away 
 saw the child and the Duke rolling round stones of 
 the size of cannon-balls across the lawn, a game 
 Gigi evidently understood well, for he played it 
 skilfully. 
 
 " Come," said the Duchess ; " Gigi deserves an 
 audience." 
 
 As they skirted the lawn, Mercede, avowing fa- 
 tigue, slipped away from the children's game and 
 seated herself upon the grass. Looking up, she 
 caught the eye of the Duchess, and bowed. Then
 
 IN THE VILLA BORGHESE. 225 
 
 her eyes sought Filippo, to whom she nodded famil- 
 iarly, whereupon he joined her, and was soon engaged 
 in a refreshing conversation. With Mercede he al- 
 ways found his thoughts led away from the subjects 
 which commonly occupied them ; and although her 
 topics were not noteworthy in themselves, her treat- 
 ment of them always interested him. Mercede's 
 usual mood was gay, her conversation pithy and 
 strongly colored, and he regarded less the under- 
 lying thought than the method and manner of her 
 communication. He delighted in her vivacity and 
 enjoyed even her extravagance of expression, while 
 the interest she appeared to feel in all that concerned 
 Agatha touched him deeply. 
 
 " No one, except myself, appreciates Agatha so 
 thoroughly," he often said to himself. " It 's a pity 
 that Mercede thinks Agatha's feeling is less ardent 
 than her own. But I don't see what more she can 
 want, for Agatha treats her as a sister ; yet even this 
 does n't seem to satisfy her. Upon my word, it 
 sometimes seems as though she aspired to share my 
 place in Agatha's heart." 
 
 He smiled complacently at the idea, and set it down 
 as evidence of his wife's charm and of Mercede's 
 lo} r al, warm nature. Nor was he mistaken in the in- 
 tensity of her feeling. Its source may not have been 
 as pure as he thought, but its existence was none the 
 less a fact. 
 
 Mercede brooded constantly over her yearning to 
 become identified with the innermost life of Loreno 
 and his wife, and the more she dwelt upon this 
 desire, the less bearable became the thought of 
 
 15
 
 226 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 disappointment. Her imperious will would not be 
 reconciled to a sphere which, although intrinsically 
 exalted, was inferior to that which she coveted. As 
 the object subserved by her artistic ambition ap- 
 proached realization, this new object gained impor- 
 tance. She brooded upon it until she became morbid 
 concerning it ; it grew to be a necessity in her life. 
 In art or society there was no door closed to her. 
 Determination had accomplished this ; and the same 
 force, intensified by the closer relation which the new 
 purpose bore to her inner life, was concentrated upon 
 this yearning, the gratification of which she now 
 deemed essential to her complete happiness. 
 
 Thus, in the graphic words of a proverb of her own 
 country, as " eaten bread is soon forgotten," her suc- 
 cess in breaking through the social and art barriers 
 that blocked her impetuous course now lost their 
 power of satisfying her, and she } r earned for some- 
 thing more to fill her life, something which should 
 satisfy the longing of her humanity ; something more 
 restful, if not more masterful, than her art. She did 
 not propose to rob, but to share. She believed that 
 she could enrich the life of the Lorenos quite as much 
 as they could enrich hers. She would not, she could 
 not, realize that they were sufficient for each other 
 when they were necessary to her. All that was in 
 her, all that belonged to her, she consecrated to the 
 fulfilment of her object. Did she recognize the truth? 
 At this time, no. She desired to be the confidante of 
 both Agatha and Filippo ; to join forces with them 
 both ; to form, as it were, a triple alliance. w Yet here 
 was the rub ; for she believed that to women as a
 
 IN THE VILLA BOEGHESE. 227 
 
 class friendship is a thing as colorless as the perfume 
 upon their handkerchiefs ; that they know as little of 
 the true glory of that affinity of which Goethe wrote 
 as they do of the possibilities of political science. 
 
 While she did not question the sincerity of 
 Agatha's affection for her, she began to fear that 
 her cousin might not be able to emancipate herself 
 from the limitations common to her sex, and, putting 
 aside petty jealousy and wifely selfishness, rise to 
 such a conception of friendship as that which Mer- 
 cedo herself claimed to have, and which she believed 
 Filippo to possess. She did not base her opinion of 
 Filippo's friendship upon his responsiveness alone, 
 for, with blind inconsistency, while resenting deeply 
 Agatha's gentle opposition, Mercede gloried in the 
 frankness with which Loreno sometimes opposed her 
 when he believed her to be in error, either of opinion 
 or action. This was also Goethe's idea of a friend. 
 No one but Loreno dared beard the lioness in her 
 den ; but he seemed to have no thought of fear. He 
 opposed Mercede's views quite as frankly as he did 
 those of Agatha. With every one save Loreno, Mer- 
 cede assumed the initiative ; him she seemed willing 
 to follow. Had she not been so inclined, the result 
 would have been interesting, for he would have gone 
 on in his own way just the same, there being but one 
 person on earth whom this young Marquis suffered to 
 lead him, that person being Agatha. Yet, so strange 
 is life, Mercede felt that in either judgment or power 
 of will Agatha was a mere child in her presence. For 
 this reason, although exasperated by her cousin's unde- 
 fined but firm method of keeping the vantage-ground
 
 228 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 of her husband and herself sacred to themselves, 
 she had no doubt that in the end her desire would 
 be accomplished. Nevertheless, it was rather a hurt 
 to the pride of a woman so courted as she, to have 
 even a small part of her friendship repelled. Had 
 Mercede permitted herself to examine the facts coldly 
 and judicially, she would probably have recognized 
 the plain fact that her desire to occupy a relation 
 toward Agatha closer than that of a sister would 
 scarcely have been so keen had her cousin been 
 unmarried. But her wilfulness was too great to 
 permit her to stop and dissect her motives. If any 
 suspicion of the truth ever perplexed her mind, 
 she dashed it from her with an indignant disclaimer, 
 prompted, she assured herself, by shame at having 
 tainted the purity of friendship with an unworthy 
 suspicion. Thus we ofttimes juggle with the truth 
 as Hamlet juggled with the cloud, and our servile 
 reason is as eager in agreement and about as sin- 
 cere as was that other courtier, Polonius.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 SOME PASSING FACTS. 
 
 AKISTOCRATIC Rome was gathered at a ball in 
 the palace of the Spanish Embassy. Loreno and 
 Mercede had been dancing together, and the latter, 
 complaining of the excessive heat, asked if they could 
 not get out of the crowd for a few moments. Filippo 
 thereupon led her to an anteroom, in a recess of 
 which they seated themselves. 
 
 " I 'm glad to get away from it," said Filippo, 
 glancing back at the room they had left. 
 
 " You don't seem quite yourself to-night;" and his 
 companion looked at him anxiousl}'. 
 
 " I 'm a little tired." 
 
 Her eyes closed slightly, and she tapped her foot 
 impatiently. 
 
 " That 's not unnatural," she said. " Your parlia- 
 mentary work is enough for one man, and you add to 
 it half a dozen charities, not to mention your social 
 duties." 
 
 *' The charities count for very little, and," he 
 added, laughing quietly, " the social duties for even 
 less." 
 
 " But, Filippo," she leaned forward and gazed into 
 his face earnestly, " don't you know that you are
 
 230 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 burning the candle at both ends ? You should take 
 more exercise, and of a sort that will help you to 
 forget your work." 
 
 " But I do exercise." 
 
 " You walk to Parliament and home again, less 
 than ten minutes each way. You should be in the 
 fresh air at least two hours every day." 
 
 " ' Two hours ' ! Where are they to come from ? " 
 
 " From whatever you do outside of Parliament." 
 
 " Impossible ! Before Parliament I arrange the 
 accounts of Agatha's new society ; and after I leave 
 the House I join her, wherever she is, help her for 
 an hour or so, and then bring her home." 
 
 "It's all very ideal and commendable, and I 
 shouldn't like to interfere with it; but you must 
 manage somehow to get more air and exercise, or }ou 
 will break down." 
 
 " But how am I to do it ? I can't neglect my par- 
 liamentary duties unless I resign altogether; and I 
 have told you how the rest of the day is filled." 
 
 " Can't you take exercise in the morning and do 
 your accounts in the evening ? " 
 
 " On many evenings, yes ; but I cannot rely upon 
 them. The evening is my time for social duties and 
 of preparation for my public work." 
 
 " You can if you will only make up your mind to 
 it. Won't you try ? " 
 
 " I won't promise." 
 
 "I think you are positively unkind ! If you haven't 
 any regard for yourself, you might have for your 
 friends." 
 
 " There is no reason for anxiety about me. I feel
 
 SOME PASSING FACTS. 231 
 
 splendidly, as a rule, and when Parliament is not in ses- 
 sion I have many hours in the air. Only to-day Agatha 
 tried to make me promise to drive or walk with her 
 three times a week, and I refused on the ground that 
 I don't need it. Here she is now," he said, as he 
 saw his wife approaching on the arm of Mr. Dow. 
 " You and she can console each other." 
 
 " No, not now," she replied in an undertone. 
 
 " Come, Filippo," said Agatha, " I want a waltz 
 with you." 
 
 Mercede's mouth grew serious, and she hastily ad- 
 dressed Mr. Dow, but she did not fail to notice the 
 alacrity with which Filippo .arose in spite of his 
 fatigue. 
 
 " I 'm invited to waltz," he said to Mercede, nod- 
 ding familiarly as he moved away. 
 
 " Then I '11 say good-night ; I 'm going in a few mo- 
 ments," she called quickly, scarcely knowing why. 
 
 " Going, so early ! " and he turned with surprise. 
 
 "Yes, I'm tired ; and the swing of the affair does n't 
 catch me." 
 
 " Then jump into it," suggested Mr. Dow, practi- 
 cally. " Begin by giving me a waltz." 
 
 Her plan changed as quickly as it had been con- 
 ceived. 
 
 " With pleasure," she said, rising. 
 
 Half an hour later Filippo found that her dancing- 
 card was filled. He was surprised at this, for she 
 usually declined to engage herself ahead, avowing 
 frankly that she disliked to be compelled to dance 
 whether she would or no. He complained good- 
 naturedly at her not reserving another waltz for
 
 232 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 him ; to which she replied suavely that in future she 
 would engage herself conditionally. 
 
 Mr. Dow, who was hovering near her, chuckled 
 with amusement, and as usual drew his own conclu- 
 sion. As her partner was a little tardy Mr. Do\v 
 joined her. 
 
 " That was a delicious answer you gave the Mar- 
 quis," he said. 
 
 "Yes? It was accidental then. But I 'm opposed 
 to nepotism on principle." 
 
 " Well, the Marquis does n't seem to be. There 
 he goes, dancing with his wife again. That 's the 
 third time this evening." 
 
 " Why not leave the acts of the Marquis to the 
 recording angel ? " she said haughtily. " You would 
 entertain me better by telling me what you are smil- 
 ing at." 
 
 He smiled more broadly than ever. 
 
 " A little verse occurred to me that I saw in a 
 magazine the other day : it seems to fit the Mar- 
 quis." 
 
 "Indeed! What is it?" 
 
 " It is called * Moderation,' and runs as follows : 
 
 ' I ask not, oh my God, for worldly fame, 
 For love, for fortune, for the thousand things 
 My neighbors' restless prayers forever claim, 
 Vexing thine ear with vain importunings. 
 All these may pass, nor will they pass lamented ; 
 Give me the moon, and I will rest contented.' " 
 
 Mercede laughed lightly. " It 's not inapplicable, is 
 it ? " she said. 
 
 " No," he replied, with keen appreciation of his
 
 SOME PASSING FACTS. 233 
 
 humor. " For if he took a fancy to the moon he 
 would n't hesitate to ask for it." 
 
 " There is certainly but little left on earth that the 
 Marquis has need to ask for," she said proudly. 
 
 Mr. Dow was bewildered, and wondered if she 
 quite knew which side she was on ; but that was be- 
 cause Mr. Dow did not comprehend very well the 
 feminine nature. It never entered his mind that 
 Mercede's momentary and distinctly personal irrita- 
 tion would not give warrant to another's criticism. 
 He was too blind to read the heart she had unguard- 
 edly laid bare to him, although even a moderately 
 clever woman would have comprehended her feeling 
 instantly. What we call " woman's intuition " is 
 often logical although rapid deduction, and while her 
 quickness may be surprising, our dulness is more 
 so. No doubt she is prone to wonderful impressions, 
 to which she commonly hangs with grim faith ; but 
 every mystery is not a miracle. 
 
 As they stood silent, looking at the dancers, Agatha 
 again glided past, guided by the Duke Faviola. 
 
 " I did n't know the Duke ever danced," Mr. Dow 
 remarked. 
 
 " I have seen him dance occasionally," was the 
 reply. " He understands the arts of civilization, 
 even if he does n't always practise them." 
 
 Her companion turned with genuine surprise. 
 
 " It was a rude remark," she said, meeting his eye, 
 " but I 'm a little cross to-night ; don't think of it 
 again." 
 
 As a matter of fact, the Duke was one of the few- 
 men of Mercede's acquaintance who seemed imper-
 
 234 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 vious to her charm. She had exerted all her power 
 of fascination upon him in vain. He remained always 
 sedate and unresponsive, although so perfectly cour- 
 teous that she could find no just cause of complaint 
 against him. But with Agatha his manner was quite 
 different: he sought her society, he laughed with her 
 frankly, and seemed to find his tongue readily enough. 
 What occasioned this marked difference in his treat- 
 ment of Agatha and herself Mercede could not fathom, 
 and she was tired of trying. Yet it was mortifying, and 
 it rankled. She had been too proud heretofore to resent 
 the fact, and was vexed at her present indiscretion. 
 
 A few evenings later, while Filippo was calling 
 upon the General and Mercede, a visitor's card was 
 presented, and Mercede, pleading a headache, re- 
 quested her father to excuse her. Then, turning at 
 the door, she suggested that Filippo should entertain 
 her until the visitor departed. 
 
 He promptly followed her to a sitting-room where 
 she had sometimes received him. 
 
 " Have you thought over my suggestion at the 
 ball ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Well, I confess it has n't disturbed my dreams." 
 
 " I 've a new and brilliant idea," and she paused to 
 impress him duly. " I have not been practising what 
 I preach, and my sins of omission have begun to bear 
 fruit. So I consulted Dr. Maretti this morning, and 
 he says I must ride for at least an hour every day. 
 Now, I propose that we encourage each other by good 
 example, and at the same time avoid the monotony 
 of exercising alone. Come, ride with me; it's the 
 very thing you need."
 
 SOME PASSING FACTS. 235 
 
 Loreno had been fond of the saddle before his 
 marriage, but as other occupations claimed his time 
 he gradually gave up riding. Mercede's proposition 
 was tempting, and forgetful for the moment of his 
 excuses to Agatha, he embraced it with characteristic 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " Do you propose to ride in the morning, or after- 
 noon ? " he asked. 
 
 " In the morning, early, if you don't mind." 
 
 " Not in the least." 
 
 " About eight ? " 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 Mercede hesitated a little. " I don't suppose Aga- 
 tha will object," she said. 
 
 "Why should she?" 
 
 " She should n't ; but I did n't know." 
 
 " What a strange idea ! I sha' n't disturb her in 
 the morning." 
 
 " Oh, very well ; then we will call it settled. And 
 now, how about my horse? Will you help me to 
 find one?" 
 
 " Why not use one of mine ? I 've one that a lady 
 can ride." 
 
 " You are very kind, but I want a horse of my 
 own." 
 
 " Well, use mine until you find one that pleases 
 you." 
 
 " Thank you very much ; I '11 think it over, and 
 tell you to-morrow if you will meet me as I leave the 
 studio at five. I 'm going to walk home every night 
 for exercise." 
 
 " I 'm afraid I must deny myself that pleasure : I
 
 236 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 really can't spare the time ; but use one of my horses, 
 and let us begin to-morrow morning." 
 
 " I can't possibly ; I haven't my habit yet." 
 
 " When will you have it? " 
 
 " I can't tell exactly ; but drop in on Thursday 
 evening. I think I shall know by that time." 
 
 Agatha did not receive the suggestion with the 
 unreserved pleasure Filippo had hoped for. She was 
 hurt that after refusing all her proposals looking to 
 the same end, he should so quickly and complacently 
 adopt Mercede's plan, and not even suggest that she 
 should join in it. 
 
 He was not without consciousness of his inconsist- 
 ency, but excused it on the ground that Agatha had 
 never proposed a plan which, like this one, should 
 not interfere with his regular occupations ; and as for 
 not including her in it, he would do so, of course, as 
 soon as Mercede found a horse. He had but one 
 that a lady could ride. 
 
 " I thought you would be glad," he said gloomily. 
 
 " I am'glad ; I 'm really very glad that you will get 
 the exercise." 
 
 " Then why are you so solemn about it ? " 
 
 "I don't intend to be solemn. I'm sure I've 
 urged you often enough to get more fresh air." 
 " Your approval seems rather reluctant." 
 
 Turning away, he went to his desk and busied him- 
 self with some letters until Agatha left the room. 
 Then he brushed them aside and sat thinking.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 SHADOWS. 
 
 THE experiment of riding proved to be a success, 
 and morning after morning Loreno and Mercede 
 dashed over the Campagna for about two hours. 
 Their intimacy could scarcely fail to grow rapidly 
 under such favorable conditions, and at the end of 
 a few weeks they both looked forward eagerly to the 
 morning ride, and late hours at night never prevented 
 them from meeting promptly in the morning. 
 
 The genuine light-heartedness which Mercede felt 
 in Filippo's society made her a most charming com- 
 panion ; and as she rode well (the lieutenant having 
 early taught her to be an excellent horsewoman), 
 Loreno invariably found the keenest enjoyment in 
 her companionship. 
 
 On her side, Mercede found in Filippo a companion 
 far more sympathetic than any she had before known. 
 His directness of method responded to her wilful- 
 ness, his breadth of judgment challenged her respect, 
 while his genuineness commanded her confidence. 
 
 She believed him capable of taking a very high 
 place in the State : and that he should expend his 
 power and time upon extraneous work seemed to 
 her little better than wanton waste. To convince
 
 238 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Agatha of this she felt to be impossible, and there- 
 fore gradually conceived the plan of herself being 
 Loreno's mentor, and of influencing him to sacrifice 
 non-essentials to essentials. 
 
 " 1 must be wise," she exclaimed to herself one 
 night as she sat pondering anxiously, " I must be 
 wise and patient, for the work is worthy of me ; " 
 and going to the mantel she stood looking intently at 
 a photograph of Filippo. Then with her eyes upon 
 his she repeated the lines : 
 
 " I am thy friend, and hold it for my duty 
 To slow the speed that spurs thee to thy wrong." 
 
 Of course it is an open question how far the pre- 
 tence of such a mission deceived Mercede ; yet the 
 fact that she sought any justification of her course 
 indicates much. The keynote of her character was 
 self-exaltation, shown through a confidence, well- 
 nigh absolute, in her inability to think wrongly or 
 act unworthily. She was possessed and governed by 
 a belief that the spontaneous out-giving of her true 
 nature must be both lofty and right. If her opin- 
 ions and conduct were sometimes at variance with 
 the accepted opinions and customs of the world, 
 this did not shake her faith in herself, but merely 
 proved her superiority. Even when she submitted 
 to Filippo's judgment, it was not because of uncer- 
 tainty regarding her own, but simply because it gave 
 her joy to bend her will to his, and because it cre- 
 ated a relation which it gratified her to bear toward 
 him. Hers was a character incompatible with a 
 quick conscience ; therefore, though forced to admit
 
 SHADOWS. 239 
 
 that her nature had two sides, she assured herself 
 that the bad side was distinctly subordinate, re- 
 quiring friction to make itself felt, for which rea- 
 son it could in no wise affect the infallibility of that 
 which was spontaneous in her. She believed herself 
 worthy to be a law unto herself. Consequently the 
 voice of self-condemnation had been quickly stifled 
 when it made itself heard, and her present studied 
 attempt at self-justification marked a new epoch in 
 her life. She had hitherto begun her campaigns by 
 burning her bridges behind her, and then carving 
 her way right through opposition to the object upon 
 which her mind was fixed ; and quick success had 
 left no reason for retrospection. But now for the 
 first time she found herself baffled by a force mightier 
 than any she had yet attacked, the force of Lo- 
 reno's love for his wife. This necessitated a new sort 
 of warfare ; she must substitute patient siege for sud- 
 den onslaught, a form of attack so deliberate, com- 
 bined with conditions so new (for she could always 
 retreat), that she could not prevent occasional out- 
 breaks of insubordination from the moral powers 
 which had heretofore been dominated by her will. 
 Like other commanders, after crushing the spirit 
 of revolt again and again, she was at last com- 
 pelled to recognize, even to parley with it, and that 
 she might quiet it, often resorted to injudicious ac- 
 tivity. Yes, Mercede was at last compelled to parley 
 with her moral forces, to listen to the voice of con- 
 science protesting against her infidelity and ingrati- 
 tude to her cousin, even against trifling with the 
 sanctity of marriage. Startled, she declared she could
 
 240 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 not be so base as this ; that her honest heart could 
 not be unfaithful, her warm nature ungrateful, nor 
 could her high principle be made to bend. She could 
 have no motives save those which a noble nature 
 like hers would naturally conceive. Besides, were 
 not Loreno and Agatha equally dear to her? 
 
 To gain an accurate knowledge of one's bearings, 
 one has only to note carefully the thoughts that press 
 themselves upon the mind during a walk or any quiet 
 hour of meditation. Had Mercede applied this test, 
 she would have been surprised to find how constantly 
 the image of her cousin's husband crowded out all 
 thoughts of others and of her art. Her mind dwelt 
 ever upon Filippo, directly or indirectly ; for when 
 she thought of herself or even of those near to her, 
 it was in connection with him, or when she seemed 
 to be absorbed by her art, still he was not shut out. 
 
 It was scarcely to be expected that Agatha, thrown 
 so constantly as she was into Mercede's society, 
 should fail eventually to catch some suspicion of all 
 this. Yet her awakening was not so much the re- 
 sult of the growing intimacy between Mercede and 
 Filippo, as of the change in Mercede's conduct to- 
 ward herself; for conflicting emotions caused Mer- 
 cede to blow both hot and cold toward her cousin, 
 the tokens of love given to-day being frequently 
 offset to-morrow by undisguised annoyance at some 
 thoughtless invasion of the privacy which Mercede 
 coveted when with Loreno. Mercede did not believe 
 these invasions to be intentional, but all the same 
 they were annoying, and she resented them. This 
 spirit, of course, aroused Agatha's wonder, and she
 
 SHADOWS. 241 
 
 was inclined to be watchful. Yet when stricken by 
 misgiving, her apprehension would be allayed by 
 some fresh token of love, to doubt which would be 
 to believe her cousin a cool hypocrite. And indeed 
 Mercede's affection for the woman who had stood by 
 her so loyally was still strong, although as a directing 
 force it had but little value. 
 
 From this point they no longer moved in unison,, 
 Mercede striving with all the intensity of her throb- 
 bing soul to press closer to that ideal life the breath 
 of which had fanned her; while Agatha, startled, 
 drew away. 
 
 Filippo might have relieved the tension of affairs 
 had he recognized the full import of the drama of 
 which he was the central figure ; but he failed to 
 give the subject its due weight, and heedlessly led 
 Mercede into fresh indications of her partiality, thus 
 giving Agatha new cause for perplexity. 
 
 As the weeks passed, Mercede, forced on by her 
 natural impatience of restraint, and influenced by 
 the fact that Filippo seemed always to keep step 
 with her advance, grew constantly more aggressive ; 
 and there came a time, ere long, when there was a 
 distinct lack of repose in the relation between her- 
 self and Agatha. Yet Mercede clung to her purpose, 
 although the new conditions forced her once more to 
 shift her ground. She compared herself to a magnet : 
 Filippo was her armature ; and as the power of the 
 magnet is felt through its armature, so should it be 
 now : she would confine her power to Filippo and 
 leave to him the task of drawing Agatha. Thus, at 
 last, did she put away the theory of equality. 
 
 16
 
 242 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Following this new line of conduct. Mercede 
 could scarcely fail to make her relations with Aga- 
 tha more and more strained ; and before another 
 month had passed, the two cousins were exceedingly 
 watchful of each other. 
 
 While the trustful wife by no means comprehended 
 the actual condition of affairs, the little she did realize 
 went a long way. The fact that any woman, and 
 least of all her beloved cousin, should conceive it 
 possible to separate Filippo from her in the warmth 
 of friendship sought and given, was difficult to com- 
 prehend and almost impossible to accept. It must 
 break upon her mind slowly. It must be a growth; 
 and a growth it was, slow, very slow, but yet a 
 growth. With budding realization came great bit- 
 terness of feeling, bitterness which at times almost 
 made her forget the pain ; for Agatha was not a 
 saint, and may Heaven keep all true wives from 
 being saints under such circumstances, except in the 
 exercise of saintly wisdom and patience, without which 
 their chance of happiness is likely to be wrecked. 
 
 Probably no internal force so nearly destroys the 
 mind's balance as that of jealousy, and yet it hangs 
 over most of us held by a mere thread. Once cut 
 this thread, and the dread force falls, seeming to 
 crush both heart and reason. Then must the suf- 
 ferer have self-control and faith to a rare degree. 
 Yet happily both are possible to all men and women, 
 and even in a grave crisis a firm use of them makes 
 the chance of happiness bright. It is, indeed, a com- 
 bat of human nature, and hope lies in the fact that 
 human nature is good as well as vicious. If the
 
 SHADOWS. 243 
 
 conditions be kept favorable through incessant vigi- 
 lance and unfaltering self-control, and the result 
 awaited with patience, while the result may be far 
 from sure, the course of conduct chosen offers the 
 best, almost the only, chance of happiness. 
 
 Many a stung heart is culled upon to decide what 
 to do when love, either from desire to roam or be- 
 cause enticed, seems about to fly out of the window ; 
 and, like a child in pursuit of a truant bird, it often 
 crushes the life it is striving to retain. 
 
 This was the crisis approaching in Agatha's life, 
 and she felt the chill of its shadow. 
 
 Mercede realized equally that an epoch of impor- 
 tance was at hand, and fortified herself by the assur- 
 ance that her position was impregnable. 
 
 " It is surely not ray fault," she reasoned, " that 
 Agatha is less my friend than is her husband. I cer- 
 tainly had no wish to make a distinction between 
 them, but Agatha would have it so. She repelled 
 my advances, checked my impulses, and drew a 
 magic circle around Filippo and herself, within which 
 I was not to step. Nor did I ; I simply stood back 
 and waited, until at last Filippo has stepped with- 
 out her circle and come to me. Is that my fault? 
 Am I beyond my bounds ? Not at all ! Surety I 
 have the same right as Agatha to think and speak, to 
 live my life ; and if any one comes voluntarily and 
 wishes to share its pleasure, shall I deny him? What 
 for, I should like to know? Because he is the hus- 
 band of another? I am not seeking to estrange a 
 husband, but to keep a friend. He knows it ; I know 
 it: no one is robbed, and there is no wrong. But 

 
 244 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 suppose I banish him ? Is there no wrong then ? 
 Should I permit Agatha's petty selfishness to stand 
 in the way of duty to my friend, a duty, too, the 
 aim of which is to make him whom she adores more 
 truly useful and happy ? Moreover, is my happiness 
 nothing ? I can be as unselfish as any one when there 
 is need, but am I to make the selfishness and nig- 
 gardly desire of another woman my law and gospel? 
 I cannot see why ! Agatha has her rights as a wife, 
 and I am the last one to dispute them ; but I have my 
 rights as a woman, and she must respect them. I '11 
 not encroach upon her territory, provided she keeps 
 out of mine. But in my home, as in heaven, there is 
 no marriage or giving in marriage. Friendship reigns 
 there, and I '11 not degrade it by putting it in a 
 strait- jacket." 
 
 Agatha felt keenly Mercede's increasing absorption 
 of Filippo's time and thought. His morning rides 
 with her cousin was but one of a number of causes 
 for this wifely suffering. The truth is that she had 
 unconsciously absorbed almost all her husband's spare 
 moments before Mercede's arrival, and had grown so 
 accustomed to his constant companionship that she 
 felt the present division of his free hours more than 
 she otherwise would have done, and at times showed 
 a soreness which, although not surprising, had an 
 effect contrary to that which was desirable. Upon 
 such occasions Mercede showed no resentment, and 
 thereby, in Filippo's eyes, became a martyr to what 
 lie began to regard as Agatha's unworthy and un- 
 warranted selfishness. He persuaded himself that 
 Agatha, whose nature was not so social as his, had
 
 SHADOWS. 245 
 
 been somewhat spoiled by the entire devotion he had 
 always given to her, and now that circumstances 
 had brought their life into contact with another life, 
 well fitted to give as well as to receive happiness by 
 the union, she was unreasonable in her reception of 
 the new conditions. He believed, however, that the 
 goodness of her heart would lead her to overcome 
 this ungenerous feeling, and teach her how natural 
 it was that one whose life had been so clouded should 
 creep into the sunshine of their life, and that then 
 she would join in his full welcome. 
 
 While disapproving of Agatha's occasional signs of 
 reluctance, he sincerely regretted the pain which 
 prompted them, a pain he felt to be none the less 
 real because uncalled for. Therefore he often tried 
 to palliate her moments of depression by including 
 her in any plan which he and Mercede might have 
 made ; but while his attempt bore good fruit at first, 
 he was puzzled to find that it was gradually becoming 
 less effective. The reason for this, he was forced to 
 acknowledge, rested in some part upon Mercede's 
 shoulders, for of late when Agatha had appeared 
 upon the scene, Mercede seemed to lose her spirits 
 and to become unaccountably silent. 
 
 " What 's the matter with you nowadays ? " said 
 Filippo to his wife one evening. " You don't seem 
 quite yourself. I wonder if a ride in the morning air 
 would n't do you good. Since Mercede has her own 
 horse, why not join us, and keep the bay mare in, 
 practice ? " 
 
 "Would you like to have me go?" she said eagerly.
 
 246 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Certainly, it will double my pleasure ; why not 
 try it?" 
 
 " I have n't ridden for a long time." 
 
 " Yet you can try." 
 
 After a moment's reflection she looked up brightly, 
 and said, 
 
 "I will, that is, if I can find my old riding- 
 habit." 
 
 So the following morning, when Mercede came be- 
 low to mount, she found a surprise awaiting her. She 
 had, however, the good grace and good judgment 
 to welcome Agatha cordially. They left the city by 
 the Porta del Popolo, and dashed off at a rapid pace. 
 As it was Agatha's first ride, she tired quickly, and 
 after they had crossed the Ponte Molle she suggested 
 that they should take the road to the left, which leads 
 along the banks of the Tiber back to Rome. Mercede 
 protested that it was too lovely a day to make their 
 ride so short, and Agatha then declared that, while 
 sorry to take them home, she did not feel equal to a 
 longer ride. 
 
 "It is wise not to overdo it," Loreno said ; " but 
 in a few days you will be as eager as we are." 
 
 A shadow crossed Agatha's face instantly. " If 
 you are so eager," she said, " I 'm all the more sorry 
 to disappoint you." 
 
 Why she said it she did not know, but in truth she 
 was worn and consequently nervous. Filippo's first in- 
 clination was to correct her impression ; but his pride 
 was touched and it ruled him, so he said nothing. 
 
 Agatha thought he might have been more amiable, 
 if only to keep Mercede from misinterpreting his
 
 SHADOWS. 247 
 
 silence. Her feeling was divided, therefore, between 
 self-reproach and chagrin. They rode on without 
 speaking, Loreno wondering what had provoked 
 Agatha's caustic remark, and Mercede wondering if 
 he would not contrast this ride with those he had 
 taken with her alone. 
 
 " How lovely the shadows are toward Monte 
 Mario ! " Agatha said after a time. 
 
 " Yes, are n't they ? " Loreno replied cordially. 
 
 But Mercede held her peace. She was not going 
 to help her cousin redeem the effect of her presence. 
 
 " It will soon be time to think of going to Varese, 
 won't it?" Agatha continued, anxious to atone for 
 her ill-humor. 
 
 It was Loreno who answered, 
 
 " Yes ; did I tell you that I had a letter from 
 Varese ? " 
 
 " No ; what is the news ? " 
 
 He hesitated before replying. 
 
 " I forgot." he said ; " I made a compact with 
 Mercede, the first day, not to speak of my affairs 
 during our rides. I suppose there is no exception to 
 be made ? " and he looked toward Mercede. 
 
 " The only object," Mercede answered, " was to 
 make this outing as complete a rest as possible for 
 you ; but I doii't suppose our rules should govern 
 Agatha." 
 
 Agatha's cheeks felt hot. "I think the rule a 
 very good one," she replied quickly. 
 
 Mercede made no answer, and again they all be- 
 came silent. 
 
 " How are you getting on with that mysterious
 
 248 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 new work of yours?" said Agatha presently, turning 
 to her cousin. " We are wild to know the subject, 
 are n't we, Filippo ? " 
 
 He hesitated again, and Agatha looked at him 
 with surprise. 
 
 " That 's another of our forbidden topics," he said. 
 
 " Still, our rules are null and void now," Mercede 
 remarked. " I hope to have it finished in a month 
 or six weeks." 
 
 It was Agatha's turn to be silent. "Always our!" 
 she thought bitterly. " ''Our rules' and 'our topics.' " 
 
 " If our rule is suspended," Loreno began, turning 
 to Mercede, " I 'd like to know something more about 
 the statue ; is it marble, or bronze ? " 
 
 "When it's finished, I '11 invite you and Agatha 
 and a few others to come and find out." 
 
 " Won't you tell me so much now ? " 
 
 " Don't you think, Filippo," Agatha broke in, " that 
 you would make me feel much more comfortable if 
 you would not suspend all your rules and regulations 
 simply because I am with you? They are as wise this 
 morning as they have been for the past month." 
 
 " We were taking a holiday," he said, with a propi- 
 tiatory smile. 
 
 Again the objectionable plural pronoun. She won- 
 dered if Mercede were conscious of its effect upon 
 her, and thereupon foolishly did what she could to 
 emphasize this effect ; for she made no further attempt 
 to break the monotony of the homeward journey, and 
 Filippo, out of patience with her ill-humor, left her 
 to it and talked with Mercede.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 
 
 ANYTHING pertaining to Madame Andr interested 
 Rome, and it was not to be expected that her growing 
 intimacy with the Marquis Loreno could long fail to 
 be commented upon. The criticism did not flower 
 in a day, but, increasing steadily, had now become 
 a full-blown bit of gossip. 
 
 It soon reached the ears of the Duchess, and she 
 immediately laid the facts before the Duke. 
 
 " This thing will injure Filippo," was her sad 
 comment. 
 
 " Not much." 
 
 " ' Not much ! ' How can it fail to do so ? " 
 
 " Because he 's a man." 
 
 " But he 's a husband ! " 
 
 " ' In men, mortal sin is venial ; only in women is 
 venial sin mortal.' ' 
 
 " But it 's disgraceful ! He 's no longer a boy, and 
 should behave himself." 
 
 " Go tell him so ; it will console you." 
 
 " Can Filippo be flirting with this woman, indiffer- 
 ent to Agatha and the rest of us ? " 
 
 " No ; he 's probably as bothered as he can be with 
 Agatha and the rest of us."
 
 250 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Then why does n't he stop ? " 
 
 " Because he has n't got through." 
 
 " Then he is contemptibly selfish." 
 
 "Not necessarily. It's the taste most men have 
 for exploring." 
 
 " Did you ever do such things ? " 
 
 " I spent my proportion in New Guinea. In beaten 
 tracks I use an atlas or a guide," he added, smiling 
 fondly. 
 
 " Do you mean to tell me that my brother is com- 
 promising himself with his eyes open ? " 
 
 "Men don't often compromise themselves with 
 their eyes shut." 
 
 "Well, I believe it's more than half that horrid 
 woman's fault." 
 
 " About half." 
 
 " And that Filippo is simply drifting." 
 
 " Probably. But he 's in her boat." 
 
 " Oh, don't be so horrid ! " 
 
 "Now, I 'm in her boat." 
 
 "Well, she is horrid; and you are as aggravating 
 as you can be." 
 
 " So was Solomon ; at least in the opinion of one 
 lady of his time." 
 
 She shrugged her shoulders impatiently and walk- 
 ing to the window stood looking into the street as 
 she revolved the subject. 
 
 " I believe I '11 send for Filippo," she said, turning 
 toward the Duke, who had resumed his reading. 
 
 " Quite right." 
 
 She wrote a note asking her brother to call upon 
 her during the day, and despatched it immediately.
 
 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 251 
 
 It was late in the afternoon when Filippo appeared. 
 She led him into her boudoir and closed the door. 
 
 " Filippo, my dear brother," she began, " do you 
 know that you are making yourself talked about 
 disagreeably ? " 
 
 " In what connection ? " 
 
 " Your intimacy with Madame Andre*." 
 
 "Has she complained of it?" and his voice was 
 perfectly calm, his manner undisturbed. 
 
 "Of course not. Don't be frigid with me. You 
 know how such a report would cut me." 
 
 He paused before speaking. " There is nothing in 
 it," he said. " If there were reason to talk of us, I 
 would tell you ; but while Agatha does n't object, 
 who else should ? " 
 
 She sat and looked at him silently while she re- 
 flected. He puzzled her. " There are several rea- 
 sons," she replied, " why Agatha may not object. 
 The strongest is her confidence in you ; and another 
 reason may be her wifely pride. But you certainly 
 are imprudent in riding almost every morning alone 
 with this lady, and in " 
 
 " But Agatha often goes with us," he interrupted. 
 
 "Well, this is Saturday; how many times has 
 Agatha been with you this week ? " 
 
 He thought a moment. " Twice." 
 
 " And you have ridden every morning. In fact, 
 you are always with her. Every one speaks of it, 
 and I 've noticed it myself." 
 
 He made an exclamation, and seemed about to 
 protest. 
 
 " Don't be annoyed, my dear boy," she pleaded ;
 
 252 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " reraember our old relations, and what friends we 
 have always been. Surely I may speak frankly 
 without giving you offence ! " 
 
 His mouth, which had become very firm, relaxed, 
 and his eyes lost their sudden light. 
 
 " Well," he said, evidently struggling to suppress 
 his anger, " I will listen to you, Costanza ; but it is 
 more than I would grant to any other woman living, 
 even to Agatha." 
 
 " That 's not right," was the firm answer. " Aga- 
 tha, as your wife, has a peculiar right to speak to you 
 of such a subject. Any way, I wish to speak, and 
 that very frankty." 
 
 She went and seated herself beside him upon the 
 sofa, and looking fondly into his face continued, 
 
 " Filippo, dear, I '11 tell you what I believe, and 
 after you have listened patiently, then correct me if 
 I 'm wrong. I believe you, like most men, find 
 Madame Andre very interesting. You are indulg- 
 ing your old propensity, and with no more restriction 
 than before you were married. At that time your 
 conduct occasioned gossip ; now the same thing 
 creates scandal. Then you were judged by the 
 standard used to measure the conduct of young 
 bachelors, while now you are judged by the stand- 
 ard used for men who are married. Your motives 
 then and now seem to you identical ; but their 
 result is vastly different. Then it was called flir- 
 tation ; now it is called immorality. I know it 's 
 plain speaking, Filippo dear, but we have always 
 been frank with each other. Why not be more 
 cautious in the future?"
 
 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 253 
 
 " My dear Costanza," and his eyes looked into 
 hers with affection and truth, " I would not have 
 believed that I could sit quietly and hear any one 
 on earth speak as you have done ; but I understand 
 your motive and I appreciate it. That I am far from 
 indifferent to Agatha's feelings you know, and I am 
 scarcely less anxious to please you, for the simple 
 reason that my heart is instantly enlisted in whatever 
 affects either my dear wife or you. Therefore if my 
 intimacy with Madame Andre' gave reasonable occa- 
 sion for your disapproval I would modify accordingly 
 my relations toward her. But remember that she is 
 more than my wife's cousin , they are practically 
 sisters. Mercede's history you know, and you must 
 sympathize with her misfortunes and admire her 
 courage. Probably the world thinks that her art 
 should absorb all her thoughts and aspirations, while 
 her success should satisfy every possible craving 
 of her soul. But how differently would the world 
 think if it knew the real woman ! Her art is but 
 a means to a worthy end. She aims to create a 
 name that her son may bear without the shame that 
 belongs to her own, and to keep herself from being 
 a dependent. But while an artist, and, you must 
 acknowledge, a great one, she remains a woman, 
 longing, like Agatha or like you, for sympathy and 
 affection. To whom would her heart turn if not to 
 the sister who had stood by her in her darkest hours 
 with a loyalty that I never think of without my 
 pulse quickening ? It was glorious, and appeals 
 irresistibly to Mejcede's warm heart. With Agatha 
 she naturally almost inevitably associates me.
 
 254 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 She looks upon me almost in the sacred light of a 
 brother, and I regard her as coming next to my own 
 family and to you. Agatha fully understands and ap- 
 preciates all this, and the only cloud that ever crosses 
 the perfection of our relation arises from the disin- 
 clination of a peculiarly worshipful nature to lose a 
 single hour or thought that might be hers. I only 
 speak of this under the press of the unusual circum- 
 stances which have led to this interview; and I do 
 assure you, Costanza, that according to my sincere 
 belief this same feeling on Agatha's part, both in its 
 quality and its extent, might apply as well to you as 
 to Mercede. Shall I then obey the buzzing of care- 
 less tongues and disregard the silent pleading of a 
 noble, suffering woman ? Is that your advice, my 
 other sister? " 
 
 The appellation shocked her, and a vigorous pro- 
 test against dividing the cherished relation with this 
 stranger rose to her lips. But her rare wisdom and 
 good sense asserted themselves, and she held her 
 peace, giving her mind to that which was really im- 
 portant, the spirit which prompted the use of this 
 sacred term concerning Madame Andre", and the 
 outcome of the new-born scandal. 
 
 In view of her brother's evident sincerity she saw 
 how hopeless a task it would be to urge him to 
 regard the opinion of the world, clashing as it did 
 with what she regarded as the sympathy and chivalry 
 of his nature. While he never courted unpopularity, 
 he was not afraid of it, nor would it disturb him. 
 Her quick wit told her that there was but one hope, 
 his disillusion by Madame Andre* herself. But
 
 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS. 255 
 
 this would be a question of time. Ebbene ! One 
 must be contented with what one can have, and 
 this seemed the best that was possible ; at^ least, it 
 was the only reasonable hope that presented itself at 
 the moment. She appreciated the need of making 
 no mistake, and dared not follow up the matter. 
 She desired, however, to leave the subject in a 
 position to be reopened should she so wish. 
 
 " What you have said," she began, " requires, of 
 course, my fullest consideration. It is evidently a 
 conviction in your mind, but before accepting it I 
 need time. Let us leave it so ; and if in the future 
 I wish to consult you again I may do so frankly, 
 may I not?" 
 
 He hesitated, but after a moment's reflection told her 
 that she might ; so they spoke of other subjects, and 
 when Gaeta entered the room a few moments later 
 she found them chatting with their accustomed free- 
 dom. 
 
 " Well, little woman," said her uncle, cordially, 
 " how is the music ? " 
 
 " I think it would be more civil to ask after the 
 musician," she replied pertly. 
 
 " I know he is well," he retorted ; " I saw him in 
 the flesh this morning." 
 
 Gaeta flushed slightly. "Our thoughts 'agree 
 like the town clocks,' " she said with a little toss of 
 her pretty head. 
 
 He enjoyed sparring with her, but never tried her 
 scant patience too sorely. 
 
 " I stand corrected," and he held out his hand. 
 " Now tell me how my musician is."
 
 256 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 She kissed him, and then looking up brightly, 
 replied, 
 
 " Let;me rather tell you again how much I enjoy 
 the lovely piano. Every one admires it, and I 'm 
 quite celebrated as the Signorina who owns the 
 American piano. Signer Veltri says he is never 
 tired of playing upon it." 
 
 " Your aunt Agatha will be jealous, for he never 
 said that of her piano." 
 
 " That 's because he can praise her." 
 
 "Bravo! I'll remember to tell her your dutiful 
 compliment." 
 
 " Don't forget, for I 've a favor to ask of her." 
 
 " Confide it, and win an ally." 
 
 "I want so much to hear 'Lohengrin.' It's to be 
 given a week from next Wednesday, and papa and 
 mamma go to a dinner that night." 
 
 " By all means come with us. We have invited 
 no one yet, and the box holds six." 
 
 " May I, Mamma ? " 
 
 " We will talk about it," was the maternal answer. 
 
 "I must be going," Loreno said, rising ; " I '11 leave 
 the invitation open for a week, and you must tease 
 mamma until she consents." 
 
 " Don't teach the child such nonsense," protested 
 his sister. 
 
 " Knowledge is power, you know," he persisted. 
 " Receive this testimony, Gaeta, from an experienced 
 parent." 
 
 " I '11 try to be worthy of such an uncle," she said 
 meekly. " I '11 try to give dear mamma no peace until 
 she writes, and thanks you as you deserve."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 A SIGNAL OF DANGER. 
 
 IT was a bright warm afternoon at the end of April 
 when Madame Andre's guests began to arrive. She 
 had invited thirty or forty friends to see the unveil- 
 ing of her last work, the first important work she 
 had done in Rome. 
 
 The building occupied by Madame Andre* was in 
 the grounds of a villa, several outhouses of which 
 the needy proprietor had turned into studios. 
 
 As Loreno and Agatha left their carriage and 
 walked up the short path leading to the building, 
 they saw Mercede's guests seated at a number of 
 small tables placed under the trees near the studio. 
 A dozen pretty children, models in their gay cos- 
 tumes, flitted here and there serving tea from a 
 table, at which stood the hostess looking very pictu- 
 resque in a dull red costume of soft Indian stuff and 
 a velvet turban of a darker shade. The company 
 was chatting merrily, and Mercede while attending 
 to her duties, addressed first one and then another 
 near her, doing what she could to make the occasion 
 informal. 
 
 Upon catching sight of her cousins, Mercede came 
 forward eagerly, and immediately bespoke their assist- 
 
 17
 
 258 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 ance, Agatha being put in charge of the tea, and 
 Loreno instructed to make himself generally useful. 
 
 Agatha wore a spring costume, mauve in color, with 
 a bunch of Parma violets fastened in her bodice, 
 and Mercede was obliged to confess that she looked 
 extremely well. The young wife, conscious of the 
 curious glances that followed her, was quick to seize 
 this opportunity to make a public display of cor- 
 diality toward Mercede. Filippo's neighbors found 
 him formal in manner and unresponsive. He knew 
 them well, and understood their furtive glances 
 toward his wife. He was an uncomfortable com- 
 panion, and they were glad when, presently, he 
 urged the artist to lead the way to her atelier, and 
 offered her his arm. The others rose, and falling 
 into pairs followed Mercede and Filippo into the 
 building. 
 
 " Why did you not come last evening? " she asked 
 in a low tone as they passed through a suite of rooms 
 filled with statuary. 
 
 "I didn't suppose you really expected me." 
 
 " I wanted you to be the first to look upon the 
 finished work." 
 
 " I 'm very sorry to have disappointed you ; but, 
 after all, we could n't have seen it well at night." 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I have a strong light thrown upon it ; 
 everything else is in shadow, the group standing out 
 alone. It is strangely effective." She looked behind 
 her. " One feels," she added in a still lower voice, 
 " as though one became a part of it. I never before 
 so entered into a work." 
 
 " Indeed ! I 'in very impatient to see this mys-
 
 A SIGNAL OF DANGER. 259 
 
 terious ' it,' " he replied, as they halted before the 
 atelier. 
 
 Disengaging her hand from his arm she pushed 
 aside the portiere. 
 
 The work was so placed that Loreno did not see it 
 until fairly inside the room, where he was quickly 
 surrounded by the eager guests. Mercede heard the 
 hum of admiration that sounded around her, but she 
 was indifferent to it. Laying her hand unconsciously 
 upon Filippo's arm, she stood with fixed gaze eagerly 
 searching his face. 
 
 "How beautiful!" "How exquisite!" were the 
 words that resounded on all sides, but neither Mer- 
 cede nor Agatha seemed to hear them. 
 
 " What is the subject ? " asked Filippo presently, 
 without turning from the statue. 
 
 " Tristan and Isolde ; " and the artist's voice 
 trembled. 
 
 He stood silent, intently studying the group for a 
 long time, and then turning to her exclaimed cor- 
 dially, " It is very fine ! " 
 
 A look of disappointment and pain shot across her 
 face, but she banished it instantly as others gathered 
 about her to offer their congratulations. 
 
 Filippo's first glance at the group had startled him. 
 The intensity of the subject so powerfully depicted 
 was a departure from the severe classic that had 
 hitherto characterized Mercede's work. She had 
 evidently put into it all she knew of human passion, 
 and the electric spark seemed to flash from the 
 dead clay to the living flesh. A second glance con- 
 vinced him that in Tristan his own features were
 
 260 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 clearly suggested. The incident chosen was the 
 moment just after the drinking of the love potion, 
 when recognition of their love first comes to the ill- 
 fated pair. 
 
 While no one could look unmoved upon the group, 
 since the breath of genius wedded to a woman's pas- 
 sion had created it, Loreno's sensations were not un- 
 mixed. It was more calculated to stir him than most 
 others, because of his keen sensibility to art, the 
 strong human element in him, and the fascination 
 which the artist had for him : yet the first sensation 
 which thrilled him was almost instantly suppressed 
 by the chill of an undefined antipathy. He felt that 
 he had been degraded. Even Mercede's genius and 
 their close friendship did not warrant the liberty she 
 had taken. But as he reasoned further, he began to 
 frame excuses for her until he was able at least to 
 conceal any evidence of his feeling, and to praise the 
 group as earnestly as the rest of her friends. Yet he 
 kept his eyes away from the face of his wife. 
 
 Later in the afternoon, however, when the first 
 impression had somewhat worn away, he joined 
 Agatha as she was stepping through an open window 
 to the lawn. She was unusually pale, and he in- 
 quired if she were tired. 
 
 " Yes," she answered, " very ; and I was going out 
 for a breath of air." She took Ins arm as she spoke, 
 and they strolled across the lawn beyond the other 
 guests and entered a grape-arbor. Seating them- 
 selves upon a bench, Agatha threw her head back 
 against the vines, and Filippo, lighting a cigarette, 
 left her to her thoughts.
 
 A SIGNAL OF DANGER. 261 
 
 She had received a severe shock, and was bewil- 
 dered. It had taken weeks to convince her that her 
 cousin's feeling was really warmer for her husband 
 than for herself, and only after periods of keen self- 
 condemnation at the suspicion, hud the truth been 
 forced upon her. But she had clung loyally to the 
 belief that Mercede's affection was very deep for her 
 as well. Implicit confidence is not easily shaken, 
 and Agatha had pondered and struggled through 
 many dark hours and days, trying to reconcile Mer- 
 cede's conduct with the exalted opinion she had 
 always held of her character. The high-minded wife 
 could not believe the logical result of facts which 
 she was obliged to recognize. She could not, there- 
 fore, comprehend Mercede's aim. Indeed, even at 
 this moment, as she leaned her aching head against 
 the vines, she arrived at no definite opinion except 
 that Mercede's regard for Filippo blinded her to 
 common prudence. Yet it is to be remembered that 
 Agatha was dependent for her opinion upon the 
 complex workings of a wilful woman's mind, for so 
 long as she did not cross Mercede's great wish, the 
 latter manifested toward her undiminished although 
 spasmodic warmth of feeling, thus stilling many a 
 passing doubt that, permitted to live, would have em- 
 barrassed Mercede's purpose. 
 
 The Italians have a proverb which says that 
 good repute is like the cypress, once cut, it never 
 puts forth leaf again ; and it is equally true of 
 confidence. Mercede felt this instinctively, and was 
 wise enough to do. what she could, consistent with 
 her own aims, to preserve the faith that she had once
 
 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 prized for itself alone. But this day's signal of 
 danger was one not to be mistaken. It told Agatlia 
 that, no matter what Mercede's opinion of her might 
 be, her cousin's attitude toward Filippo was one 
 which fully justified the whispers now floating about 
 Rome. Leaving right and wrong entirely out of the 
 question, she could not understand Mercede's reck- 
 less disregard of public opinion ; it confounded her. 
 She wondered what Filippo thought of it, and waited 
 for him to speak. She could not believe that he 
 had failed to recognize the resemblance of Tristan 
 to himself; while, this similarity once suggested, it 
 was easy, in spite of the classical type which had 
 been chosen for Isolde's face, to see that the pose 
 and lines of the figure bore a distinct suggestion of 
 the artist herself. 
 
 " What does it mean ? " the distressed wife asked 
 herself again and again ; but even now this question 
 failed to hold her rnind. The shock was too recent 
 for her to realize fully its true cause, and her mind 
 reverted to the less important cry, " What must the 
 others have thought? What will the world say ?" 
 
 She bit her lip and clenched her fingers tightly to 
 restrain the indignation which possessed her. Pres- 
 ently Filippo threw away his cigarette, and rising 
 walked restlessly to the door of the arbor. 
 
 " Shall we go back ? " Agatha asked. 
 
 "Perhaps it will be best; Mercede may be won- 
 dering where we are." 
 
 " Is it such an extraordinary thing," she could 
 not help saying, "for a husband and wife to go 
 off together for a stroll?"
 
 A SIGNAL OF DANGER. 263 
 
 " Of course not ; but some of the guests are going. 
 I saw them leaving a moment ago, and our absence 
 will be the more conspicuous." 
 
 She kept back the reply that sprang to her lips, 
 and rose instantly. Indeed, she preferred that as 
 many of her friends as possible should see her hus- 
 band and herself together. 
 
 " By the bye," she said, as they left the arbor, 
 " we have n't spoken of the group. It 's very strik- 
 ing, is n't it ? " 
 
 " Very and wonderful in its art ; but " 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 " I 'm sorry that the face of Tristan suggests mine, 
 and several people say that it does." 
 
 " Did you sit for her ? " 
 
 " Why, Agatha ! " he exclaimed sharply. Then 
 he added, quite calmly, " No ; and you could not 
 have been more surprised than I was." 
 
 She pressed his arm tightly. " Forgive me, dear- 
 est ; I really did not mean what I said." 
 
 " I should hope not," he replied. 
 
 At the threshold they met friends going away, 
 and passed from room to room until they found 
 the artist taking leave of her guests. They went 
 forward and joined the Duke Faviola and Gaeta (the 
 Duchess had sent her regrets), who were standing 
 near their hostess. Presently Mercede turned and 
 joined the group. Her color was high, for the ex- 
 citement of the occasion was not without its effect 
 upon her. 
 
 If she had deluded herself with the hope that 
 Filippo's features would not be generally recognized
 
 264 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 in the statue, she was now awakened to the truth, 
 for the resemblance had been commonly remarked.* 
 She therefore boldly took the bull by the horns. 
 
 " Are you not going to thank me, Filippo," she 
 said gayly, "for having perpetuated you?" 
 
 " Thus far it 's only clay," he replied ; " and as 
 you work over it the chance likeness may be lost." 
 
 She raised her eyebrows slightly. "Do you think, 
 then, that it needs working over?" 
 
 " I supposed that sculptors always worked over 
 their statues, at least a little." 
 
 " Did you ? " and her eye grew cold, for she be- 
 lieved this to be the result of his absence with Agatha. 
 " This work is finished ; I don't intend to touch it 
 again ! " She looked around the silent group and 
 laughed quietly but defiantly. Then she realized 
 that she was putting Filippo in opposition to her- 
 self. Therefore, with surprising intrepidity, she 
 completely changed her tactics, and as though she 
 had been jesting, declared that the fancied resem- 
 blance of Tristan to Filippo should have quite dis- 
 appeared when next her friends had an opportunity 
 of comparing the two faces ; and as she took leave 
 of Agatha she kissed her upon both cheeks in the 
 Italian fashion, with no trace of the bitterness which 
 in truth she felt. 
 
 As Loreno led his wife away, Mercede turned with 
 a bright smile to the Duke. 
 
 " Filippo is altogether too modest," she said ; 
 "don't you think so?" 
 
 " No," said his Grace, bluntly. 
 
 " No ? "
 
 A SIGNAL OF DANGER. 265 
 
 " No ; Tristan was a poacher." 
 
 " You are too literal. One cannot judge heroes of 
 romance as a magistrate does reprobates." 
 
 " I don't ; but that group, while effective, perpet- 
 uates dishonor." 
 
 "No, no! not dishonor, but love, that sacred 
 force which has ruled the destinies of all ages, and 
 which will last as long as the bronze which personi- 
 fies it." 
 
 " This may be love," he answered ; " but there is 
 love of another sort which scorns selfishness and 
 builds better than it knows. Such love is pleasing 
 in the sight of God, and shall be more lasting than 
 bronze." 
 
 This was positive eloquence for the taciturn Duke, 
 and it must indeed have been a deep feeling which 
 impelled him to forsake his accustomed reticence. 
 
 An hour later' Mercede arose from the chair into 
 which she had sunk as her last guest left her. Going 
 to her new creation, she stood before it for a long 
 time, drinking in its eloquence. Then she spoke as 
 if to a living spirit. 
 
 " Are you deceiving me ? " she said.
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " FIDELIO." 
 
 FILTPPO felt that he had wronged Mercede the 
 day before, and he was eager to make amends to 
 her, at least in his own mind. She had said quite 
 plainly that the resemblance of Tristan to himself was 
 accidental, and he did not question her word. He 
 was surprised and somewhat offended, therefore, that 
 Agatha had not seemed to accept fully her cousin's 
 statement; at least she had been noticeably quiet, 
 not only while driving from the studio, but during 
 the evening. 
 
 Gaeta had told them at the studio that she would 
 go with them to the opera, and Filippo decided to 
 suggest to Agatha that Mercede and the General 
 should be of the party. 
 
 He had given unusual consideration as to the best 
 method of making this suggestion, and determined 
 to express his wish without circumlocution or inde- 
 cision. He was quite prepared, if not for protest, ;it 
 least for demur on Agatha's part, and was propor- 
 tionately surprised when she quietly but cordially 
 assented. He was inclined to think that he might 
 have misinterpreted her silence of the previous night. 
 It is not surprising, perhaps, that he reflected thus
 
 "FIDELIO." 267 
 
 superficially upon the incident of the day before, for 
 it was not to his mind, as to Agatha's, an incident of 
 great suggestiveness. Indeed, after Mercede's ex- 
 planation, he had practically dismissed it from his 
 mind, for his faith in her integrity was absolute. 
 
 But Agatha was now fully aroused. At last she 
 felt that there was danger. Nevertheless, while a tu- 
 mult was raging in her heart, she realized that what 
 was needed, and what she must bring to the task be- 
 fore her, was a cool head and a patient trust. She had 
 the wisdom to know that in all peril, whether physi- 
 cal or moral, excitement is worse than inaction. She 
 felt as though she were rescuing a somnambulist from 
 a threatened fall ; should she stumble or cry out, all 
 might be lost. Throughout her homeward drive, 
 throughout the long hours of a sleepless night, she 
 had revolved the matter again and again, until she 
 compassed its gravity, and seemed to receive sufficient 
 light to guide her wisely, at least for the present. 
 Her first inclination had been, naturally, to snap off 
 the intimacy which had sprung up between her hus- 
 band and her cousin ; but she quickly realized that 
 even were this possible, it would be a confession of 
 weakness. Nor was this idea in accordance with the 
 line of conduct upon which she had decided. She 
 would not trifle with her future happiness by playing 
 the part of a jealous wife. Also, she reasoned truly, by 
 having Mercede near her she could study her purpose 
 more intelligently, and to be forewarned would be an 
 important advantage. Nor would Mercede's presence 
 make any real difference in the end, for there was 
 nothing to be gained by delay. Sooner or later she
 
 268 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 must stand or fall upon the strength of her husband's 
 manhood and love. 
 
 Then the will that had once subdued that of her 
 uncle rose in its might, fortified by the greater matu- 
 rity of its mistress and the vital gravity of her cause. 
 She decided that her faith in Filippo should be as 
 an anchor to hold him firm ; and further, that come 
 what might of temptation or peril, no woman should 
 ever become an issue between her husband and herself. 
 
 It was in obedience to this purpose that she ac- 
 cepted without hesitation her husband's suggestion 
 that Mercede should be included in the opera party, 
 and she herself sent the invitation to her cousin. 
 
 The Apollo Theatre was thronged with an expec- 
 tant audience as the Lorenos and their guests took 
 their seats, for " Lohengrin " had not often been heard 
 in Rome, and the German company was well liked. 
 
 Before the overture began, Agatha outlined the 
 story to Gaeta, since the libretto did not contain the 
 " argument " to which English and American audi- 
 ences are accustomed. Mercede listened also, and as 
 Agatha finished, remarked quietly, " Elsa was served 
 rightly." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," Agatha responded, " for she 
 should not have doubted. Yet what a punishment ! " 
 and her voice trembled slightly. 
 
 " I mean," added Mercede, " that she seems to me, 
 from your story, to be a miserably weak little thing, 
 frightened lest she had made a mdsalliance." 
 
 " That 's one way of putting it ; but to me she 
 seems overcome by an uncontrollable desire to justify 
 her faith in her husband."
 
 "FIDELIO." 269 
 
 "No man," and Mercede spoke very distinctly, 
 a will, or at least should, permit his wife to be 
 his inquisitor, nor, for that matter, his monitor 
 either." 
 
 " Whether that is the moral this story teaches or 
 whether it is not, I quite agree with you." And 
 Agatha's manner betrayed no comprehension of the 
 personal suggestion of the comment, much to the dis- 
 gust of Gaeta, who instantly took up the cudgels. 
 
 " I don't agree with you," she said boldly. " I 
 should think it would depend upon the man, and 
 how he behaved himself." Then, fearing she had 
 spoken too plainly, she added, " I only hope that my 
 knight if ever I have one won't try me as Elsa 
 was tried, unless he prefers to go away from me." 
 
 " A wish.it is difficult to imagine," and Mercede's 
 lips parted with one of her charming smiles. " Yet 
 a man should not be too much hampered by our 
 sensitive vanity. He must necessarily have a life 
 somewhat apart from that of his wife. For example, 
 do you suppose that diplomats confide all their com- 
 ings and goings to their wives ? And if you once re- 
 cognize this principle, where will you draw the line ? " 
 
 " At what they keep to themselves, not from duty, 
 but from lack of duty." 
 
 Madame Andre raised her eyebrows ominously, 
 although she smiled again. " And pray, what con- 
 ception of a man's duty has your experience taught 
 you ? I am interested." 
 
 Gaeta's little nose crept up in the air, and she 
 looked haughtily out of the corners of her eyes, in no 
 wise discomfited.
 
 270 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 "He should treat me as he would compel me to 
 treat him," she replied. 
 
 u Indeed ! You take a most serious view of mar- 
 ried life. One might suppose you expected to marry 
 a Turk." 
 
 "Well, whether I marry a Turk, or only a man who 
 is tempted to behave like one, I wish to know it be- 
 forehand ; otherwise," and she gave a defiant toss 
 of her head, "my curiosity will more than annoy 
 him." 
 
 The General and Filippo laughed heartily, and 
 the latter, asking Mercede for her lorgnette, hast- 
 ened to comment upon some persons in the opposite 
 box. 
 
 At this moment the conductor wielded his baton 
 and the music began. When Elsa came upon the 
 stage, and before she had sung a note, Mercede saw 
 Filippo turn and look at Agatha with a significant 
 smile. Agatha flushed with pleasure, and nodded 
 assent. 
 
 " We heard her sing at Munich," he explained to 
 Mercede. *' She is a fine artist." 
 
 Agatha's interest in Elsa was overshadowed by the 
 memories awakejied. 
 
 They had heard this singer during their wedding 
 trip, an ideal episode in Agatha's life, to which she 
 looked back with the fullest joy. Then the opera 
 was " Fidelio," and she remembered saying to her- 
 self upon that night, so many years ago, as she was 
 carried on by her ardent sympathy with the noble 
 heroine, that she would do the same were her hus- 
 band spirited away, and that the power of her love,
 
 "F1DELIO." 271 
 
 like that of Fidelio, could not fail to rescue him. 
 The suggestion now startled her, and her breath 
 came fast ; but the others were intent upon the 
 peril of Elsa, and did not observe her excitement. 
 
 At the end of the act visitors kept the conver- 
 sation in safe channels until the curtain rose again. 
 As the second act ended, Mr. Dow entered the box, 
 soon followed by Veltri. 
 
 " I think 1 11 go and pay some visits myself," 
 Filippo remarked, rising. 
 
 " Won't you give me a turn in the corridor first ? " 
 asked Mercede. " It 's very warm here." 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " A good idea," said Agatha, impulsively ; " let us 
 all go, that is, if agreeable to every one." 
 
 So, with the exception of the General, who pre- 
 ferred to remain, the entire party left the box, Mer- 
 cede on Filippo's arm, while Mr. Dow captured Gaeta. 
 Indeed, Mr. Dow had of late become more and more 
 a thorn in young Veltri's side. Since the episode re- 
 garding Veltri, Mr. Dow had not only ceased to think 
 of Gaeta as a child, but had utterly revised his con- 
 ception of her character ; in fact, he stood rather in 
 awe of her. As his acquaintance with her had in- 
 creased, he found more and more interest in her soci- 
 ety, and was becoming more and more assiduous in 
 his attentions to her, although no one except Veltri 
 seemed conscious of the fact, not even Mr. Dow 
 himself. But Veltri's brown eyes were often clouded 
 and his heart was made heavy by just such incidents 
 as that which now caused him to follow the tall 
 figure of his rival with bitter envy.
 
 272 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I 'm afraid I ought n't to have suggested leaving 
 the box," said Mercede in a low voice as Filippo and 
 she walked on before the others. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 "I don't know; but it seems strange that they 
 should all throng after us." 
 
 " There is room enough for all," he replied rather 
 formally. 
 
 "I only meant," Mercede hastened to add, feeling 
 that she had blundered, "that you mustn't let my 
 coming embarrass you. Papa is still in the box, and 
 I '11 go back after a turn or two." 
 
 " I '11 walk with you as long as you wish ; there 
 is n't any one I really care to see." 
 
 She bowed mockingly. " Thank you for the 
 compliment." 
 
 " I meant," and as his eyes met hers all trace of 
 annoyance disappeared, " that no one else offers suffi- 
 cient counter-attraction." 
 
 "I refuse to accept it," she said with pretty dignity 
 " Compliments and mirrors cannot be mended." 
 
 " Yet both are sometimes to be trusted." 
 
 " I hate anything that even suggests a mirror to 
 me," and her voice lost its tone of banter ; " my whole 
 life seems made up of reflections. If I try to look 
 ahead, if I even try to catch a glimpse of the hearts 
 about me, I find only my own fears, my own hopes, 
 thrown back at me. It 's horrid ! " 
 
 " What fears can you possibly have for the future ? " 
 he asked incredulously; "and as for the hearts of 
 those about you, whose do you doubt ? " 
 
 She paused, and then laughed nervously. " I don't
 
 "FIDELIO." 273 
 
 suppose I really fear anything or doubt any one ; but 
 have you never known anxiety about something that 
 reason told you was scarcely possible certainly, not 
 probable ? " 
 
 " Often, concerning the children, for example, 
 and Agatha." 
 
 At that name her lips compressed. 
 
 " Precisely," she said. 
 
 They were passing the box, and opening the door 
 she suddenly disengaged her arm and stepped inside. 
 
 " Are you tired of it? " Filippo asked. 
 
 " Yes," she said with strange emphasis. 
 
 18
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. 
 
 " MERCEDE," said the General, one evening about 
 two weeks later, "have you changed that face of 
 Tristan yet?" 
 
 She looked up from her book, but did not turn her 
 head. 
 
 "No; I haven't taken off the cage except to 
 sprinkle the clay ; why ? " 
 
 " Nothing ; " and the old man relapsed into silence. 
 
 " There must have been some reason for such a 
 question," she said. 
 
 " Well " and the General hesitated. 
 
 " ' Well ' ? " she echoed impatiently. 
 
 " Have you heard any report, my daughter, that 
 relates to you and Filippo? Something about " 
 
 "There, father, that will do!" and closing her 
 book she flung it upon the table. " I know all about 
 it, and I 'm amazed that you should offer me the 
 affront of mentioning it to me." 
 
 " Our silence will not make the world dumb." 
 
 " ' The world ' ! " she exclaimed bitterly. " Oh, how 
 you tremble before it! And it's not the first time," 
 she added significantly. 
 
 " No, Mercede, it's not fear of the world, but fear of 
 being in- the wrong, that prompts me to speak. I 'm
 
 DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. 275 
 
 not concerned about Blanche and Tray and Sweet- 
 heart, but about our Agatha." 
 
 She sprang to her feet and faced him. 
 
 "It's Agatha! Agatha! Agatha! morning, noon, 
 and night. Does it never occur to you to think of 
 me a little, even at the expense of your idol?" 
 
 " Oh, Mercede ! " and the old man raised his hand 
 reproachfully while his face grew pained. " How 
 can you use such language of one who is almost a 
 sister to you ? My only happiness in the few years 
 remaining to me is in you both, and I never wish to 
 see the tie loosened that has bound you together." 
 
 " Very well ; then don't take her part against 
 me." 
 
 " In what, my child?" 
 
 " In this report. You hear that her husband is too 
 friendly with me. You know how little truth there 
 is in it, and should scorn to annoy me with it." 
 
 "That's the trouble ; I don't think it's all smoke." 
 
 " Father, I beg of you to have a care, or you will 
 deeply offend me ! " 
 
 The old man rose and lit a cigarette ; then he 
 resumed his seat and blew a cloud of smoke. 
 
 " Now, Mercede," he said quietly, " I 've made up 
 my mind to speak," he fixed his eyes upon hers, 
 " and I insist upon your being dutiful and listening. 
 I have never approved of your riding alone with 
 Filippo, morning after morning ; I thought it would 
 create remark, and I was right. I have never ap- 
 proved of Filippo's meeting you day after day, as you 
 leave your studio, and walking with you. I have 
 never approved of the devotion he shows you in
 
 276 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 society. It 's all very well to say he is the husband 
 of Agatha ; but you are both young, and already 
 the strength of your influence upon him is shown by 
 the fact that he is absolutely neglecting other affairs 
 to enjoy these tete-a-tetes with you. This is a mat- 
 ter of common knowledge, and it is undeniable; 
 and this thing, like any other wrong thing, should 
 stop ! " 
 
 The directness of his words shocked her; but a 
 shock is an effective method of treatment under cer- 
 tain conditions, moral as well as physical. She was 
 quite calm when she spoke. 
 
 " My dear Father," she began, " you hurt me more 
 than you can know. I am not a reckless coquette, 
 but merely a woman peculiarly dependent upon kind- 
 ness and sympathy. I have, I know, both you and 
 my dear child; but, as you say, I am still young, and 
 I need companions of my own age. Where should I 
 more naturally find them than in her who is almost 
 rny sister, and in her husband? I long to see them 
 botli whenever I can ; but I am busy all day and so 
 is Agatha, therefore neither can wait upon the other. 
 Filippo happens to have a free hour in the morning 
 and another in the afternoon, and he seems to enjoy 
 the companionship of a disinterested and loyal friend 
 beyond that of a set of fawning politicians or foolish 
 philanthropists." 
 
 "He used to help Agatha in her charitable work 
 in these hours," interposed the General. 
 
 "At the expense of his health. No one can re- 
 proach him with idleness," she went on; "but it 
 seems that they do wish to dictate how he shall use
 
 DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. 277 
 
 the little freedom he has ; while as for me well, 
 as Goethe says, 
 
 'Laziness, you know, is not my sin, 
 But somehow, when great things I would achieve, 
 I find some fool from whom I must ask leave.' 
 
 As, witness my Tristan ; I happen to choose a type 
 which to the vulgar herd suggests a familiar face. 
 Basta ! I must change it. And now the dear souls, 
 finding how omnipotent they are, wish to direct all 
 my affairs, and not daring to come to me they sneak 
 in behind my back to you. Do you blame me for 
 resenting it ? Can you wonder that I am pained at 
 your giving them your sympathy and using jour 
 authority to humble me ? " 
 
 " God keep me from humbling you, my child !" he 
 responded ; " I have it only in my heart to keep you 
 from humbling yourself." 
 
 " But I am not a child." 
 
 " Yes, you are my child, and I would stand between 
 you and future sorrow. Friendship is a relation rest- 
 ing on honesty, a relation upon which the blessing of 
 God may be invoked each day. Sentiment and ardor 
 attend it, but they should ever be its servants ; other- 
 wise it becomes indefensible license." 
 
 She was silent a long time, sitting with fixed eyes, 
 pondering deeply. 
 
 " What do you suggest?" she asked presently. 
 
 " That you should deny yourself some present 
 pleasure for the sake of the truer happiness of all." 
 
 " I cannot see the necessity," she replied. " You 
 look at the relation between Filippo and me in a
 
 278 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 most distorted way. Is he not devoted to Agatha? 
 Am I likely, even had I the right, to encourage a 
 sentimental relation with any man ? But friendship, 
 in other words sympathy, is as essential to some char- 
 acters as is sunshine to the growth of flowers. My 
 nature can either be opened under the warmth of a 
 friendly force, or be shrivelled up by the chill of 
 timidity and prudery." 
 
 She rose, and began to pace up and down the room. 
 
 " Why am I so ? " she continued ; " and if I beat 
 down these natural impulses and deny myself the 
 little happiness granted me, what will the world give 
 me in exchange ? Don't for Heaven's sake reply 
 piously, ' A calm conscience,' or suggest, ' The sweet 
 consciousness of right doing.' I deny both! I need 
 and I deserve some real, living, present force, which 
 can draw my sore heart from its incessant repining. 
 For me this force is not to be found in work nor in 
 religion, nor does it hide even in obscure places need- 
 ing only patient seeking. It has revealed itself; I 
 have found it; I have even stretched out my hands 
 to it. And now I am bidden to deny this, my purest 
 instinct ; to fold my arms across my breast and make 
 a mockery of resignation." Then turning suddenly 
 she advanced toward him with absolute defiance in 
 her manner, her eyes blazing, her face white with 
 passion. " I refuse to make this sacrifice," she cried, 
 her voice deep and clear as a bell. " Do you under- 
 stand me? I will not make it. I will not!" 
 
 It was in vain that her father tried to argue with 
 her ; she continued to pace the room, but would not 
 open her lips. Presently he went to her and gently
 
 DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. 279 
 
 laid his hand upon her arm. She paused and looked 
 at him inquiringly, she had even forgotten his 
 presence. Then going towards the door and with- 
 out looking back, she left him and went to her own 
 room. 
 
 Before sleeping, however, she decided, as a sort 
 of sop to her conscience, to make another effort to 
 draw nearer to Agatha. The next day this resolu- 
 tion was somewhat distasteful to her, but still she held 
 to it, and in so doing felt that she merited commen- 
 dation. That afternoon, as she was leaving her studio, 
 she saw, as usual, Filippo walking toward her. 
 
 " I 'm going to make a call," she said. 
 
 His face fell. " Then are we to lose our walk ? " 
 
 " I am going to see Agatha ; but perhaps she will 
 not be home so early ? 
 
 " Not before six. She has her violin class this after- 
 noon. She is teaching eight or ten children." 
 
 *' Very well. Then let us walk a little until I find 
 a cab ; I want an old-time chat with her, and you 
 would be in the way." 
 
 Filippo seemed disappointed. "I'm sorry you 
 chose this time. I 've had a vexatious day, and an- 
 ticipated the change." 
 
 Her face brightened, but her tone was solicitous. 
 
 " What has been the matter ? " she asked. 
 
 " I 've had some important work and could n't bend 
 my mind to it." 
 
 " I don't wonder ; it is difficult to do two things 
 well." 
 
 " I don't understand you." 
 
 " Why, you are trying to combine statesmanship,
 
 280 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 which taxes all the resources that any man can bring 
 to it, with philanthropy, which is an occupation of 
 itself. They interfere with each other, and the com- 
 bination takes too much out of you." 
 
 " I don't agree with you ; and if I did, I should n't 
 see my way clear to drop either." 
 
 " You amaze me ! " and she regarded him with 
 genuine surprise. " I don't see how you can hesitate 
 an instant. Cut off the luxury, and devote yourself 
 only to work worthy of you." 
 
 " Both are worthy, equally so," he replied earn- 
 estly. " They have the same end, the good of 
 one's fellow-citizens." 
 
 Her nostrils dilated slightly. " Yes," she said, her 
 voice singularly clear, " perhaps they may be said to 
 have the same object, like man and wife laboring for 
 the common family. But the statesman stands before 
 his fellowmen and measures his strength with the 
 strongest, while Philanthropy remains at home look- 
 ing after the house, and the children, and the flower- 
 pots." 
 
 He winced a little at the picture. "In fashioning 
 a great work," he said, " many tools are needed ; don't 
 you think it juster to regard statesmanship and phi- 
 lanthropy as two of them, each fitted for its especial 
 purpose ? " 
 
 " Possibly ! " 
 
 This adverb is to a nimble disputant what the pali- 
 sade is to a chulo. When the animal we are worry- 
 ing lowers his horns, we have only to vault behind 
 this word and we leave him discomfited, with nothing 
 to hit. Mercede had too much knowledge of human
 
 DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. 281 
 
 nature to pursue the subject further. She reasoned 
 rightly that it would be better to leave the contemp- 
 tuous impression which she had created, to work its 
 way into his mind, rather than by driving it further 
 (as was her inclination and habit in dispute) to risk 
 putting him into an antagonistic mood. Daylight, 
 she knew, will creep through a small hole. 
 
 Therefore she branched off suddenly to other 
 topics, and he believed that she was trying to atone 
 for her sarcasm. It is curious how black a man 
 can paint the devil, and how brightly he will gild 
 a sympathetic woman. 
 
 There was no indication of bitterness in Agatha's 
 manner as she received her cousin. 
 
 " Did you see Filippo this afternoon ? " she asked. 
 
 Mercede flushed slightly. " Yes ; I met him on 
 my way here." 
 
 " You meet every afternoon, I believe." 
 
 Mercede hesitated. " Yes, we do ; that is, nearly 
 every afternoon." 
 
 " He often speaks of your walks. He seems to 
 enjoy them very much, and they do him good. He 
 doesn't get enough fresh air." 
 
 " So it seemed to me, and I felt the same about my- 
 self. Indeed, it was under Dr. Maretti's advice that 
 I decided to take more exercise." 
 
 " Yes, I remember ; do you feel its good effects ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes ; I am much better than I was." 
 
 " I have a plan in mind that I think will put you 
 quite right again. Has Filippo told you that we are 
 going to the country next week? "
 
 282 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " No," and Mercede's lips lost their color. 
 
 " That 's his frightful memory. Yes, we go next 
 Tuesday to Varese. The people there really seem to 
 need us." 
 
 Mercede tried to smile. "It sounds charming," 
 she said. " I quite envy you." 
 
 " Do you? Then I hope that you will consider the 
 plan I have to propose. Why won't you run away 
 from work for a month and come to us ? " 
 
 The dark eyes opened with genuine surprise. 
 " It is very kind of you," and she paused to collect 
 her ideas, " but it is so unexpected ! I have n't 
 thought of abandoning work so soon, and I don't see 
 how I can leave just yet, but " 
 
 " Does the idea tempt you ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ! It would be a most grateful rest, 
 but I fear I can't spare the time. Yet I 'd like to 
 think it over." 
 
 She had little realized until now, when the matter 
 stared her in the face, what it would be to have day 
 after day drag itself slowly by without bringing 
 Filippo to her. This was what she kept before her 
 mind all that evening, and the more she thought of 
 it the less tolerable it seemed. Ugh ! what miserable, 
 heavy, hopeless hours they would be, whole days and 
 nights full of them. She needed all her sophistries, 
 all her self-deceiving theories, to disguise the feeling 
 that now stirred her so powerfully ; for ere she slept 
 that night she knew that were she compelled to 
 choose between abandoning her artistic career forever 
 and losing this month with him whose presence was 
 her chief delight, she would not hesitate ; and she
 
 DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW. 283 
 
 marvelled as she remembered that when with Agatha 
 only a few hours before, her hesitation had been genu- 
 ine. These two fixed points startled her, bringing as 
 they did vividly before her mind the distance she had 
 moved in her moral orbit during these intervening 
 hours. Yes, the realization startled her, but it did 
 not frighten her; it did not even grieve her. On 
 the contrary, her mind whirled with joy. In addition 
 to the excitement of the theme was the buoyancy 
 which so often comes with decision, a buoyancy 
 enhanced in this instance by Mercede's impatience 
 under self-denial. 
 
 " Shoot your own thread right through the earthly tissue 
 Bravely : and leave the gods to find the issue." 
 
 This was the thought that possessed her. She at- 
 tempted no justification, she made no apology in the 
 present hour ; she simply nerved herself with these 
 lines. They seemed inspired and addressed to her. 
 They were of the wisdom of Goethe.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 LOOKING NORTHWARD. 
 
 MERCEDE did not sleep well. Nearly the entire 
 night she lay with her open eyes fixed upon the flick- 
 ering night-light, thinking. Slowly, but with hopeless 
 certainty, there had crept over her joy a sullen cloud. 
 Finally she arose from her bed and tried to throw 
 off her wretchedness, but the cloud hung about her. 
 Nervous from lack of rest, and worn by intense men- 
 tal excitement, she suddenly flung herself upon the 
 sofa and wept. 
 
 She was oppressed and torn by self-dissatisfaction 
 which only a proud struggle kept from becoming 
 self-condemnation ; but at last she throttled her bet- 
 ter nature, and then her mind was seized with a mor- 
 bid jealousy that utterly mastered her. She no longer 
 denied that she envied her cousin to the depths of her 
 nature, and felt that she could not bring herself to 
 enter Filippo's house to be an hourly witness of 
 Agatha's exercise of her wifely rights yet the 
 thought of separation from Filippo was unbearable. 
 
 What, then, should she do ? Time and again her 
 better self struggled for recognition ; but this only 
 added to her torment, and with obstinate fury she 
 crushed it down.
 
 LOOKING NORTHWARD. 285 
 
 Throwing on a wrapper, she opened a window and 
 leaning her throbbing head upon her arms tried to 
 think. How could she accomplish these conflicting 
 purposes? How could she have Filippo without be- 
 coming Agatha's guest? At last with the gathering 
 light of dawn came relief to her perplexity, and rising 
 to her full height, she stood with her hands folded 
 behind her head, gazing at the dim stars that faded 
 without her knowledge. 
 
 Presently a noise in the street below recalled her 
 from her oblivion, and she watched with strange in- 
 terest the trifling incidents that mark an awaken- 
 ing city. Her mind was clear ; her purpose taken. 
 Filippo must come to Erba, and since Agatha seemed 
 to have conquered her desire to monopolize her 
 husband, the peculiar sentiment she felt for Erba 
 would probably induce her to accept an invitation 
 to go there for her usual summer visit. In regard 
 to the invitation to Varese, which would undoubt- 
 edly be pressed further, Mercede decided to post- 
 pone a definite reply. She felt that a happy solution 
 of her difficulty had thus been reached ; for while 
 she should secure Filippo's society, she would be 
 spared the humiliation of being in Agatha's home 
 under circumstances which would scarcely be hon- 
 orable is what she meant, but the word she used was 
 " agreeable." 
 
 Nothing remained, therefore, but to see her father 
 and secure his co-operation. She looked at her 
 watch, he would not breakfast for three hours ; 
 so, lowering her cu-rtains, she lay down upon the bed 
 and soon fell into a deep sleep. When she awoke, it
 
 286 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 was late, and hastily ringing for her maid she learned 
 that the General was still at home ; whereupon she 
 sent him word that she wished to speak with him, 
 and would dress immediately. Her sleep had not 
 refreshed her much, and her head ached viciously ; 
 but she swept into her father's presence with a bright 
 smile and bade him a cheerful good-morning. 
 
 "Papa dear," she began, "you have invited Aga- 
 tha to Erba every summer since her marriage ; why 
 have n't you invited her this year ? " 
 
 " Well," and he hesitated. " Perhaps I ought to 
 do so." 
 
 " Why, papa ! you speak as though it were a 
 duty." " 
 
 " You see, my dear," and he avoided her eye, 
 "things are a little different this year." 
 
 " Different ? In what way ? " 
 
 " You are with me, and I don't need Agatha so 
 much." 
 
 " That is not your reason. Why not be frank 
 with me?" 
 
 The old gentleman lighted a cigarette and smoked 
 rapidly, as was his habit when in trouble. Then, after 
 a few moments' consideration, he answered her. 
 
 " If you will have the truth, Mercede," he said, " I 
 was n't quite sure that you would find it pleasant to 
 have Agatha with us. You know she is devoted 
 to her charities, and they pertain to Erba as well 
 as to Varese ; and I feared you might disapprove, 
 and " 
 
 " And make my disapproval offensively known ? 
 Now I Understand. But what an injustice you do
 
 LOOKING NORTHWARD. 287 
 
 me ! I trust I am a better hostess than that. Be- 
 sides, I don't object to charity in its right place ; and 
 the country is just its place, for there one is away 
 from one's other duties." 
 
 The General's eye brightened, and he protested 
 that he needed no urging to invite Agatha to Erba. 
 It was soon arranged, therefore, that he should 
 see her during the day, and then go to Mercede's 
 studio. 
 
 The General called upon Agatha in the afternoon, 
 and later made his promised report to Mercede. 
 Agatha had recounted the pressing demands of Va- 
 rese affairs, but offered no personal opposition to the 
 proposed delay, agreeing to leave the decision to her 
 husband. As Mercede listened, her heart grew light ; 
 she felt that her desire was practically accomplished, 
 and when a few hours later she joined Filippo for 
 their usual walk, her step was light, her face bright 
 with happiness. She lost no time in unfolding her 
 plan, scarcely paying him the compliment of putting 
 the matter suggestively. 
 
 To her amazement he received the idea with ob- 
 jections, but not, as she had expected, based upon 
 Agatha's probable opposition to it. He had, he 
 said received news from Varese that morning, and 
 his presence there seemed necessary. Mercede, an- 
 noyed at the need of argument, nevertheless yielded 
 to the inevitable ; but her words seemed to make 
 no impression upon his resolve. As she argued, her 
 purpose grew more intense, for behind this strange 
 opposition she believed Agatha to be intrenched. 
 Agatha, she thought, desiring to take her husband
 
 288 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 away, had played upon his kindness of heart for her 
 own purposes ; and now he believed himself to be 
 guided by his own sense of duty, and was as obstinate 
 as he could be. 
 
 As the realization of parting from him came to 
 Mercede afresh, she shifted her ground and began 
 to plead, appealing to him not to disappoint her 
 father; and thereupon she drew so touching a pic- 
 ture of the Count's happiness at gaining Agatha's 
 consent, that for the first time Filippo showed signs 
 of faltering. By a skilful use of this potent argu- 
 ment, for Loreno was very fond of the Count, and 
 felt that Agatha owed to him the duty of a daughter, 
 reinforced by the power of her own personality, 
 which came into full play through the emotional 
 direction which the discussion had taken, Mercede 
 succeeded in gaining two points : He consented, 
 first, that Agatha should visit Erba before going to 
 Varese ; then, that he would write immediately to 
 Varese, and if possible would himself accept the 
 Count's invitation. Exultant, she pressed him hard- 
 er, all her influence over him, all her fascination 
 for him vivified by the full intensity of her aroused 
 jealousy. Little by little she won her victory, the 
 most noteworthy by far she had yet won with him. 
 He promised unconditionally to visit Erba for at least 
 a few days. 
 
 Rome gossiped a little more sharply when it be- 
 came known that Madame Andrd and Filippo were 
 to be together at Erba; but sober second thought 
 gradually asserted itself, as the critics began to ask
 
 LOOKING NORTHWARD. 289 
 
 themselves what was more natural than that the 
 Marchesa Loreno should visit her uncle at the villa 
 which had once been her home ? Even the most 
 eager fault-finder could not justify criticism of this 
 fact, and was, moreover, obliged to admit that 
 Loreno's absence would be more noticeable than 
 his presence. 
 
 The principal actors in the affair did not, however, 
 stay to note the ebb and flow of the gossip, but took 
 themselves off to the sweet air and sweeter moral at- 
 mosphere of the Northern hills. Their going made 
 at least three hearts that were left in Rome very 
 heavy, because it suggested the approach of another 
 parting. One heart was Gaeta's ; another was that of 
 Signor Veltri ; while the third belonged to Mr. Peter 
 Dow. 
 
 There are certain flowers containing small glands 
 in which a drop of etheric oil is secreted. When the 
 flower is young, these glands are but little developed, 
 but they grow with the flower, and become fully 
 developed only when the blossoms begin to fade. If 
 at that time a light be held near, a flame is kindled 
 which flashes vividly like miniature lightning. And 
 there seem to be hearts closely analogous to such 
 plants. They are susceptible to the touch of love 
 only when the blossoms begin to wither ; but then, if 
 the conditions serve, they answer bravely, and sud- 
 denly illumine with exhaustless bounty the darkness 
 which has hung over them. 
 
 Of some such species must have been the heart 
 of Mr. Peter Dow: for not until now, when the 
 blossoms of his youth were undeniably fading, had it 
 
 19
 
 290 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 responded to the ever-searching flame. Yes, Mr. 
 Dow had at last become the victim of a new and 
 most incautious habit, he thought day and night 
 of the fascinating little creature who of late luid 
 treated him so kindly. He knew that the great dif- 
 ference between their ages was against him so far as 
 Gaeta herself was concerned ; but Italian girls are 
 not so bigoted as American girls about that sort of 
 thing, and he assured himself that the continental 
 idea of marriage was much more prudent, if some- 
 times less sentimental, than that which prevailed in 
 his own country. Gaeta had developed wonderfully, 
 and was mature and wise beyond her years. Mr. 
 Dow acknowledged that she had an enthusiasm for 
 her young music-teacher; but this enthusiasm, ap- 
 parently, was shared by her father and mother, and 
 surely they would not smooth the way of their only 
 child to a mesalliance. Therefore it was most un- 
 likely that Veltri was to be regarded as a rival, 
 whereas Mr. Dow, in fairness to himself, felt bound 
 to admit that there was much to justify the hope in 
 his heart. Although he had no title, he had money, 
 and so far as birth was concerned well, it was 
 something to have been born in Boston. Then his 
 thoughts were wont to fly away to the future, and 
 he smiled with grim anticipation as he pictured to 
 himself the hospitable way in which exclusive Boston 
 doors would be flung open to receive the daughter of 
 a Duke. Not that Bostonians value titles as New- 
 Yorkers do, making themselves breathless in their 
 eager seeking after the imported luxury ; but then 
 no one : not even a Bostonian would hesitate at
 
 LOOKING NORTHWARD. 291 
 
 a Faviola. Why, Gaeta's ancestral tree would make 
 the best one in Boston seem like a blackberry-bush 
 beside a Salem elm. No ; Mr. Dow had no concern 
 about Gaeta's reception at home ; and besides, they 
 would only cross "the pond " now and then for a lit- 
 tle change. America would n't be bad, taken in that 
 way, especially with a Duke's daughter. 
 
 But Mr. Dow was not merely ambitious, he was 
 genuinely in love. It seemed as though life had 
 been dark until the presence of Gaeta bright eyes had 
 fired the hidden treasures of his soul. Of late, when 
 he awoke, and looked upon the mellow Southern sun- 
 light, it seemed to him to be indeed blessed, for it 
 brought a renewed hope of seeing the little maid 
 to whom his thoughts turned always. The flowers 
 seemed more lovely than before, as he walked around 
 the Piazza-di-Spagna, gazing into the baskets of the 
 flower-boys or into the windows of their more pre- 
 tentious rivals, seeking for a bunch that might fitly 
 be offered to her whose color rivalled that of the 
 rich dark roses which he so carefully selected. Then, 
 too, what joy to see her fresh beauty, and watch 
 each new indication of her increasing regard ! That 
 she did not always greet him with fervor meant ab- 
 solutely nothing, for she was a little queen in her 
 domain, doing precisely as she chose, and appar- 
 ently having no concern regarding the impression 
 she might create. But usually she was most gra- 
 cious and winning toward him, and he felt that her 
 variableness of manner was evidence of their inti- 
 macy. She always seemed glad to receive the flow- 
 ers he brought to her, and now and then had put
 
 292 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 some of them in her dress. True, he had twice 
 known of her giving the young musician a flower 
 from her bunch ; but, after all, that was nothing. 
 Indeed, Mr. Dow told himself, it showed a very 
 platonic feeling toward Veltri, otherwise she would 
 not dream of showing him such an attention. Mr. 
 Dow dreaded the summer, since the daily glimpse of 
 Gaeta, to which he had acquired the habit of look- 
 ing forward so eagerly, must necessarily cease unless 
 he could manage to be near her. He hoped the Duke 
 and Duchess would invite him to make them a short 
 visit ; and that it would be a momentous visit he felt 
 sure. Yet another and bolder plan crossed his mind ; 
 but he postponed its consideration, at least for the 
 present. He would sit a little longer on the bank 
 before actually taking the plunge. True, in this case 
 it did not seem a likely way of " getting there ; " but 
 something might happen to reveal to him the depth 
 of the water into which he proposed to venture.
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 JUNE DAYS. 
 
 TEN days later Padre Sacconi stood on the porch 
 of the Villa Ricci with Mercede, who was waiting to 
 receive her guests. The General had gone to the 
 station to meet them, and now they were here. 
 
 As Agatha caught sight of the priest she kissed 
 her hand to him, and having greeted Mercede, came 
 to him with the old happy look in her eyes. But 
 she seemed rather nervous of manner, and turning 
 back even as he answered her, looked toward Mer- 
 cede. The latter was standing at the side of Filippo 
 while he gave some directions about the hand lug- 
 gage. Presently he finished and turned to her. She 
 extended both her hands, which he took, and for 
 an instant they stood looking into each other's eyes. 
 They spoke a few words, and as the Marquis came 
 forward to speak with Padre Sacconi, Mercede turned 
 and slipped her hand familiarly through his arm, her 
 face radiant, her manner denoting security. 
 
 The keen glance of Padre Sacconi had followed 
 that of Agatha, and now as he looked again into 
 her troubled eyes he read her distress. Nor was 
 his judgment shaken by the rapidity with which her 
 expression changed, nor by the light-hearted manner 
 she assumed as her husband and cousin approached.
 
 294 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " This is like old times ! " exclaimed Filippo hear- 
 tily, as he shook the priest's hand. 
 
 " Yes, and may the present leave as pleasant a 
 memory." 
 
 " It cannot be more pleasant ! " was the cordial 
 reply. There was a sudden pressure upon his arm, 
 and he added, " Except because of Madame Andrews 
 presence." 
 
 " You overpower me," she replied with a light 
 laugh ; then pausing an instant, added with peculiar 
 seriousness, " I sincerely trust, Padre, that your wish 
 may come true, and that this visit may leave memo- 
 ries worthy to be compared with those already asso- 
 ciated with the old place." 
 
 " Talking of memories, Agatha," said Filippo, 
 "you must dress yourself in white some afternoon, 
 take your violin down to the iron gate, and with the 
 Padre give Mercede a full-dress representation of a 
 certain tableau that is worthy of her genius." 
 
 "Pray excuse me," interposed Mercede, whose 
 smile suggested bitterness, " but no more family re- 
 semblances for me ! An experienced monkey is 
 never tempted twice by a cabomba." 
 
 " Come, Mercede," called the General, stepping 
 outside the door, " bring in the travellers, or they 
 will be late for dinner, and the children must not be 
 kept waiting." 
 
 " But surely, papa," she protested, " the children 
 are not to eat at our table." 
 
 " Now, don't oppose me," he said amiably, " for 
 it is useless. They ha^e been invited and have 
 accepted;"
 
 JUNE DAYS. 295 
 
 " But not the baby," said Agatha, who saw that 
 Mercede was annoyed. 
 
 " And why not ? " demanded Filippo. 
 
 "Why not, indeed?" said the Count. "I have 
 invited Miss Teresa to sit at my right hand." 
 
 "There is really no reason except your fatigue, 
 Agatha dear," said Mercede, changing front as she 
 caught Filippo's wish ; " I '11 sit next the baby." 
 
 Agatha felt the hot blood fling itself to her cheeks, 
 but without deigning to answer, she turned and went 
 indoors. Filippo thought she might have thanked 
 her cousin. * 
 
 Yet dinner was a merry meal ; every one seemed 
 in good spirits, and only the fleeting expression which 
 now and then darted into Agatha's eyes, and au occa- 
 sional slight contraction of the lips as her glance fell 
 upon Filippo, told Padre Sacconi that her heart was 
 heavy. The young Marquis was certainly impru- 
 dent. He could have been friendly enough without 
 devoting himself so ardently to his engaging neigh- 
 bor ; but both Mercede and he seemed, with occa- 
 sional intervals, to forget that they were not dining 
 apart. 
 
 During the evening, also, they showed the same 
 inclination to be alone. First, they strolled off to- 
 gether while Agatha was upstairs in the nursery ; and 
 later, when the moon rose, Mercede, leaving the group 
 upon the veranda, walked to the edge of the terrace 
 overlooking the lake, where Filippo soon joined her. 
 Presently Padre Sacconi suggested that they should 
 all go and see the effect of the moonlight upon the 
 distant water ; but after a few general remarks both
 
 296 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Filippo and Mercede became quite silent, and pres- 
 ently Mercede, saying that she was chilly, took 
 Filippo's arm and they walked back and forth be- 
 hind the rest of the party on the broad path which 
 skirted the terrace. 
 
 The next morning, when Agatha awoke, she was 
 startled to find that Filippo had already risen, and 
 glanced hastily at her watch. It was not yet eight 
 o'clock, and the breakfast-hour was nine. She looked 
 into her husband's dressing-room, and a sharp pain 
 shot through her heart as she saw that he was not 
 there. As breakfast was announced, Filippo and 
 Mercede came across the lawn, and seeing Agatha 
 upon the veranda, gayly waved their hands. 
 
 " We 've been to the lake, and Filippo has been 
 teaching me to row," exclaimed Mercede. 
 
 " You must be hungry ; " and Agatha strove hard 
 to appear natural. 
 
 " Ech cosi, cosi," and she shrugged her shoulders 
 slightly. " I did so well, that Filippo has promised 
 to give me another lesson before dinner." 
 
 Agatha turned to her husband. " Shall we be back 
 so early from Villincino ? " 
 
 " I think so," he answered. "We can go immedi- 
 ately after luncheon, and if we give two hours, it 
 will be enough." 
 
 " But it 's our first visit this season, you know, and 
 we have usually found a great deal to do." 
 
 " I suppose," he said doubtfully, " that it 's really 
 necessary for me to go with you. Yes, of course it 
 is," he added quickly, " for the houses have to be 
 gone over for the winter prizes ; I forgot them."
 
 JUNE DAYS. 297 
 
 " Then let us give up the row," Mereede said 
 grimly. ^ It 's of little consequence as compared 
 with the pleasure of these contadini." 
 
 " Could n't we postpone our visit for a day ? " 
 Filippo suggested. 
 
 " No," and Agatha spoke firmly. " I '11 go alone 
 willingly, but I won't neglect these poor people ; 
 knowing that I arrived yesterday, they will expect 
 me." 
 
 " Then that settles it ; and if I am late to-night, 
 I '11 give Mereede a lesson to-morrow." 
 
 Further discussion was postponed by the appear- 
 ance of the Count ; but Filippo soon found that he 
 was out of favor with Mercede. 
 
 "I'm going to explore some of my old haunts," 
 said Agatha to her husband, when alone with him 
 after breakfast ; " don't you want to come wiA 
 me?" 
 
 " Are you going alone ? " 
 
 " Not if you will come with me, dear." 
 
 " I 'd like very much to go," he began ; " but M 
 
 This was more than she could stand. 
 
 " But what ? " she demanded. 
 
 " I have something some writing to do this morn 
 ing," and he smiled mysteriously. 
 
 " I will go alone," she said gravely, and turned 
 away to hide the trembling of her lip. 
 
 As she left the house it happened that she saw 
 her husband bending over Mercede's shoulder, read- 
 ing a passage from a book, while his companion 
 watched his face earnestly. Agatha had often seen 
 the book in Mercede's hands, and knew it to be the
 
 298 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Elective Affinities." Filippo watched his wife fur- 
 tively until she disappeared ; then he left Mercede 
 and went to the library, where he busied himself 
 writing some verses. 
 
 By and by Mercede entered the room as though 
 unconscious that he was there. As he looked up she 
 apologized and made a show of withdrawing. 
 
 "Don't go," he said, " I wish to say something to 
 you." She returned, and he continued, "I'm very 
 sorry, but I think we must postpone our rowing." 
 
 " I don't mind such a trifle," she replied ; " you 
 could n't have done differently, since Agatha was so 
 firm. Perhaps we had better not go at all." 
 
 " Why not, pray ? " 
 
 " Not unless Agatha can go with us." 
 
 He paused a moment, looking at her with an 
 incredulous expression. 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 Mercede shrugged her shoulders in her expressive 
 way. " She is a young wife, and young wives some- 
 times have strange notions." 
 
 " Then they are different from Agatha ; she 's 
 above such nonsense." 
 
 " Are you sure, Filippo ? " and she watched him 
 closely ; " are you quite sure ? Not that Agatha 
 would willingly yield to a weak or selfish notion ; 
 but may she not be narrow, like most other women, 
 in her views of friendship ? Happily, I have forced 
 my way out of this terrible conventionality, and am 
 able to stand with you on the higher plane ; but is 
 she also able to do this?" 
 
 " Agatha's idea of friendship," he replied sternly,
 
 JUNE DAYS. 299 
 
 " is shown by her loyalty to you. That plane seems 
 to me to be high enough for any one." 
 
 Mercede was frightened. " Doubtless my fears 
 make a coward of me," she said hastily ; " but I have 
 too little of the happiness of life to spare any impor- 
 tant factor," and she studied his face intently. 
 
 " No one begrudges you any factor of your happi- 
 ness, Mercede, so put such notions out of your mind ; 
 they are not worthy of you. Agatha is definite when- 
 ever duty comes in. That is all her decisive words of 
 to-day meant ; and to-morrow you will see how little 
 she will trouble herself whether I give you a rowing- 
 lesson or not." 
 
 "I don't doubt you are right ; but can't you under- 
 stand that I am tenderly sensitive to anything like a 
 rebuff?" 
 
 He made a gesture of impatience. " For Heaven's 
 sake, Mercede, don't be morbid ! " he said. " If there 
 is anything I can't stand, it's that. Don't get into the 
 habit of looking over your shoulder for spooks, or 
 you '11 knock your head pretty often, besides the 
 wear and tear on your nerves. If you would be rid 
 of spectres, drive them once and forever out of your 
 mind ; that 's where they are fed and made strong." 
 
 Mercede was not clear as to whether he was un- 
 willing to acknowledge Agatha's jealousy, or still 
 partly blind to it. Of one thing, however, she was 
 convinced ; that he would not permit any reflection 
 upon his wife, no matter what he thought of her 
 conduct. She deemed it wise to throw a sop to 
 Agatha's jealousy, and thereupon set herself the 
 task of framing some method whereby the young wife
 
 300 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 might more often accompany her husband without 
 embarrassing his freedom. She decided that an es- 
 cort for Agatha must be provided ; it mattered little 
 who he was so long as his presence secured a fourth 
 member to the party. Mr. Dow seemed the most 
 practicable person for the purpose, as he had nothing 
 to keep him in Rome and would probably come with- 
 out delay. 
 
 In Rome, the weather had become enervating, and 
 the Faviola's were on the eve of their departure for 
 Erba. 
 
 Gaeta had just finished her last music lesson, when 
 her mother came into the room. 
 
 " Of course you will keep the same hours for me 
 next autumn," said Gaeta to her master. 
 
 " With pleasure, Signorina." 
 
 " That reminds me," the Duchess interposed. u I 
 intended speaking with you, Gaeta, about your music 
 next winter. I doubt if you will be able to take two 
 lessons a week." 
 
 "And why not?" 
 
 " You will be much more occupied, now that you 
 have been presented. 
 
 " I'ut I prefer not to neglect my music." 
 
 " We had better discuss the matter another time. 
 For the present, Signer Veltri will perhaps permit us 
 to leave the hours open." 
 
 " I am at your service," he replied ; "pray take your 
 own time." Then he went to Gaeta and extended his 
 hand. " Good-by, Signorina," he said. 
 
 " Are you not coming to the train ? "
 
 JUNE DAYS. 301 
 
 " Remember, dear," the Duchess said, " that Signer 
 Veltri is a busy man." 
 
 " But not too busy to come to the station if you 
 will permit, Signora." 
 
 " Certainly, come if you can ; but don't let the 
 child's wish influence you." 
 
 " It will be a pleasure." And he bowed and left 
 the room. 
 
 "Now, mamma, what does it mean?" asked Gaeta, 
 dramatically. 
 
 " That you must go more into society next season, 
 darling. You are becoming a young lady, and must 
 do as the others do." 
 
 " But, mamma, at the expense of my music ?" 
 
 " Not necessarily ; but at the sacrifice of a lesson a 
 week." 
 
 " Oh, I am beginning to hate society ! " and Gaeta 
 clenched her fingers viciously. 
 
 " Don't be a silly girl. Most girls would be de- 
 lighted at the prospect." 
 
 " But most girls don't care for music as I do. I 'd 
 rather take a lesson than than there is n't any- 
 thing else I care a fig for." 
 
 "Then that shows the necessity of broadening 
 your interests." 
 
 " But it is n't necessary to break my heart doing 
 it ; " and she flung herself upon the sofa, and burying 
 her face in the cushion, sobbed bitterly. 
 
 "Why, my darling," exclaimed her mother, going 
 to her and stroking her hair, " what does it mean ? 
 You surely can't feel so badly at the mere thought of 
 taking fewer lessons. It 's most extraordinary ! " and
 
 302 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 her brows contracted. " What is it, darling ? tell 
 me." 
 
 " I don't know," sobbed Gaeta, " but I 'm very 
 unhappy." 
 
 " * Unhappy' ! Come, Gaeta, look up and talk with 
 me ; " and the Duchess seated herself beside her 
 child. 
 
 The sufferer heaved a convulsive sigh, and lifting 
 her head laid it upon her mother's shoulder. 
 
 " Tell me, pet, why this suggestion affects you so 
 strangely." 
 
 " I don't know, I 'm sure, except that I love 
 my music." 
 
 " But I have n't proposed that you give it up." 
 
 " Not in so many words, no ! But the effect will 
 be the same ; it will kill the enthusiasm," and she 
 sighed deeply. 
 
 " Then you don't truly lovemusic ?" 
 
 " Well, then I must be crazy, and you 'd better 
 have the doctor," was the smothered comment. 
 
 " Why crazy, dear ? " 
 
 " To go on so about something I don't care for." 
 
 "I don't wish to make you unhappy," she said, 
 playing with the black tresses ; " but think the mat- 
 ter- over. We will speak of it again in the course 
 of a week or two." 
 
 "No, I don't want to wait," and Gaeta sat up- 
 right. "I'd a hundred times rather settle it now. 
 I couldn't endure the uncertainty." 
 
 u What would you propose ? " 
 
 " Would you not agree to two lessons a week until 
 Befana."
 
 JUNE DAYS. 303 
 
 " Well, perhaps so. And then possibly you will 
 find one a fortnight sufficient." 
 
 " No, I sha' n't," was the positive reply. " But I'll 
 try to reconcile myself to one a week." 
 
 " Very well, dear, then arrange it so." She hesi- 
 tated a moment, and fixing her eyes closely upon her 
 child's face, added, " But why not take an occasional 
 lesson from Sgambati ? " 
 
 " No, no, mamma ! " and her face grew pale. " Don't 
 suggest my changing. I 'm perfectly satisfied with 
 Signer Veltri." 
 
 "I think you must be;" and the mother's eyes 
 grew anxious.
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 SOMETHING OP A HERO. 
 
 WHEN Mr. Peter Dow received an invitation to the 
 Villa Ricci he regarded it as a special grace, since he 
 had failed to win from the Duchess Faviola anything 
 more than an expression of the general hope that 
 they might meet somewhere during the summer. 
 Then his maxim, like a white-winged angel, had 
 beckoned him to a phantom seat where he should 
 as usual " sit down to get there." And now, lo ! the 
 unfolding hours had either brought to him the oppor- 
 tunity for which he was waiting, or had carried him 
 abreast of the coveted chance ; he knew not which it 
 was, nor did he care. 
 
 He was more powerfully impressed than ever with 
 the fact that his maxim rested upon a great principle; 
 and going to the Piazza-di-Spagna he decorated him- 
 self with a blushing rose such as had often rested 
 upon the heart of her to whom a beneficent fate 
 seemed to be canning him. Then jauntily swinging 
 up the hill leading to the Pincio, he found a shaded 
 seat near the fountain which splashes upon the 
 chubby little Moses in his wicker ark, and settling 
 himself comfortably he re-read Madame Andrews 
 most welcome invitation.
 
 SOMETHING OF A HERO. 305 
 
 " My cousin and her husband are with us," she wrote, 
 " and we are bronzing ourselves like your Indians with 
 our outdoor life. But my father is scarcely inclined for as 
 much exercise as the rest of us, and thus occurs an " open- 
 ing," as you sometimes say, for a congenial friend who 
 will enjoy our quiet and informal life, and share our pleas- 
 ure in this respite from society. Do we mistake in turn- 
 ing to you to complete our party ? If not, send me a line 
 to announce your early arrival." 
 
 Agatha had been consulted about the invitation, 
 but instantly fathoming its purpose, had assented 
 without hinting at the surprise she would otherwise 
 have felt ; for Mercede, while civil enough to Mr. Dow, 
 had never shown any special desire for his society. 
 On the other hand, the Count enjoyed the compan- 
 ionship of the American, who had a fund of quaint 
 anecdotes of which the former never tired; and this 
 fact gave Mercede an excuse for her proposal. Loreno 
 was indifferent, but readily accepted Mercede's right 
 to invite any one whom she chose to her home. And 
 thus a week from the day the plan was broached, 
 Mr. Peter Dow became the guest of General Ricci 
 and his distinguished daughter. 
 
 The new-comer, however, scarcely fulfilled the 
 expectations of his hostess. He early developed a 
 tendency to wander off on his own account, and when 
 no pre-arrangement was made he vanished with vexa- 
 tious regularity in the direction of the Villa Faviola. 
 One afternoon, a few days after his arrival, he found 
 the Duchess alone and evidently preoccupied ; for 
 although she tried' to sustain a conversation with her 
 visitor, it was evidently not easy for her to do so. 
 
 20
 
 306 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Seeing this, Mr. Dow was about to make an excuse 
 for returning to the Villa Ricci, when he summoned 
 up courage to ask if Gaeta were at home. 
 
 "Yes, I think she is at the coffee-house," the 
 Duchess replied ; " at least, she went in that 
 direction." 
 
 * Is the Duke with her ? " 
 
 " No, she is alone." 
 
 " Would you mind my strolling over your lovely 
 place ? " 
 
 " Go, by all means, if you wish to ; but it 's rather 
 warm, and you '11 pardon me if I remain here, won't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Certainly ; I may look Gaeta up later." 
 
 " Yes, do so," was the quick response ; for the 
 Duchess was not sorry to have her daughter's mediT 
 tations disturbed, while she had hesitated to be the 
 intruder. 
 
 Mr. Dow's pretence of taking a roundabout course 
 to the coffee-house was a hollow fraud, and with- 
 in ten minutes he stood behind the pensive figure 
 of Gaeta seated upon a bench near the spot where, 
 as the Duchess had told him, Loreno and Agatha had 
 come the day they first met. 
 
 As Mr. Dow went forward Gaeta sighed and turned 
 listlessly. 
 
 " You have certainly chosen a charming spot for 
 a retreat," he said, lifting his hat, " but is n't it a 
 trifle warm?" and he regarded solicitously the dark 
 head bared to the powerful sun. 
 
 " Oh, it does n't make any difference," said Gaeta, 
 sadly.
 
 SOMETHING OF A HERO. 307 
 
 "No?" 
 
 "No; I'm indifferent." 
 
 He took a chair near her, braving the sun for the 
 sake of his purpose, and sat looking at her silently 
 for a minute or two. 
 
 " What makes you so reckless ? " he ventured. 
 
 u Trouble," was the laconic reply. 
 
 " ' Trouble ' ? Why, what has gone wrong ? " 
 
 " I 'm not understood." 
 
 " What a pity ! I wish I might help you." 
 
 " It 's too late," and her tone was lugubrious. 
 
 Mr. Dow lacked nothing of sympathy, but he was 
 utterly non-plussed. 
 
 "It is never too late," he remarked on general 
 principles. 
 
 " Then it 's you who are too late," she said 
 cynically. 
 
 His heart gave a bound. Could the misunder- 
 standing refer to him ? 
 
 " Let me understand you clearly," he exclaimed. 
 " In what way am I too late ? " 
 
 " The storm has broken, and no one can recall its 
 shock." 
 
 "Who is at the other end of the storm?" he in- 
 quired, trying to grasp the facts without sacrificing 
 the metaphor. 
 
 " You would n't believe me if I told you ; no one 
 would it 's too unnatural." 
 
 " You know how much your friend I am." 
 
 " Yes ; but if love be but a name, what a mockery 
 is friendship." 
 
 He sank back into his chair bewildered. He tried
 
 308 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 twice before he could command his voice. " Has 
 some one been deceiving you ? " 
 
 " No ; even that would have been better." 
 
 44 Who has hurt you so, a man, or a woman ? " 
 
 She continued to look far off upon the opposite 
 hills without replying. Then she said stoically, 
 44 Never mind." 
 
 His heart was deeply stirred by her misery, and he 
 failed to see the childishness of her mood. Moving 
 nearer, he leaned forward and tried to look into her 
 face. 
 
 44 When did it occur?" he inquired sympathetically. 
 
 " After luncheon." 
 
 44 Did any stranger lunch with you ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 44 Then the trouble was, as it were, domestic ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 44 In that case I ought not to press the matter." 
 He waited, and then moved a trifle nearer. 44 Ga- 
 eta," he said nervously, " my dear Gaeta, I wish I 
 had the right " as he called her by her Christian 
 name she turned and looked at him in a way that 
 quite disconcerted him, 44 I wish, I say, that I had 
 the right," he steadied himself and proceeded boldly, 
 44 to share even your domestic trials." 
 
 44 It 's very kind of you, and in a world of dis- 
 appointment a stanch friend is not to be under- 
 valued." 
 
 44 1 am some years older than you are, Gaeta 
 
 44 1 know that," she interrupted with marked dig- 
 nity, 44 or I should n't permit you to address me so 
 familiarly."
 
 SOMETHING OF A HERO. 309 
 
 " Yet you know that a companion of experience is 
 often a wise counsellor and guide." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so ; and I '11 tell you frankly that 
 I 'd trust you in this especial thing before any one 
 else in the world, not excepting Aunt^Agatha." 
 
 He stared at her in amazement. 
 
 "And the reason I'd trust you," she continued, "is 
 because we spoke of the matter once before, and I 
 won you over to my side, and you 've been perfectly 
 lovely ever since." 
 
 " Have I ? " he murmured. 
 
 "I need advice to-day," she continued freely; "I 
 feel that I need it very much, and as you are a man, 
 and say you 'd be glad to aid a helpless girl, I 've 
 half a mind to confide in you." 
 
 His heart was sinking, but his consequent gravity 
 seemed to her quite appropriate. 
 
 " You 've heard about ' The Pilgrimage of the Rose,' 
 to be given at Varese on Aunt Agatha's festa ? " 
 
 Although his throat was dry, he managed to utter 
 the expected assent. 
 
 "Well, it's really about that, but indirectly about 
 something " she looked again steadily at the hills 
 " about some one else." 
 
 Hope fluttered again in his heart, and he waited 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Mamma, like all mothers, I suppose, is always on 
 the alert to guard her daughter from committing some 
 faux pas, and to-day she went too far ; " and the dark 
 eyes grew bright with indignation. 
 
 He did not trust his voice, but his face convinced 
 her of his sympathy.
 
 310 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Yes ; I regret to say such a thing, but mamma 
 forgot herself." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " You know, of course, that Madame Andrd is get- 
 ting up some tableaux to illustrate the music, and 
 she very kindly asked me to be the Rose. Now, of 
 course I 'm going to the festa, and the rehearsals 
 would only take me to Varese a few days earlier, and 
 Aunt Agatha urged mamma to let me go with her 
 when she goes, and and mamma simply won't.'" 
 
 " She has some good reason, I suppose." 
 
 " That 's what one would suppose ; that 's what I 
 supposed, and that's what I must deny. Her reason 
 is shocking ! " 
 
 The listener pursed his lips, but discreetly kept 
 silent. 
 
 "At first she was merely negative, and mamma 
 can be negative and positive at the same time, but 
 little by little I got at the truth ; it 's because she 
 has your old prejudice against Signor Veltri." 
 
 " Ah ! he lead's the orchestra, does n't he ? " 
 
 " He leads the orchestra ; and naturally he will 
 also be there a few days before the performance," - 
 she turned away her flushed face, "and mamma 
 does n't think it nice for me to be so friendly with 
 one whom she calls a mere music-teacher." 
 
 Mr. Dow smiled slightly in spite of his low spirits. 
 " Egad ! she 's in the dock this time, and things have 
 a different look to her," he thought. He failed, how- 
 ever, to understand how the Duchess had committed 
 the indiscretion of stating her objections so frankly; 
 so he questioned Gaeta on this point.
 
 SOMETHING OF A HERO. 311 
 
 " I saw through her veiled objection in a moment," 
 she said, " and hating nonsense, I put the truth to her, 
 and she could n't deny it ; and so I left her and came 
 out here to have a good cry." 
 
 Peter Dow rose abruptly, and walking to the wall 
 on the brink of the steep fall to the valley, stood 
 leaning upon it for fully five minutes, reasoning with 
 himself and trying to regain his self-control. Pres- 
 ently he turned back and went to the young girl. 
 His eye shone kindly, and he answered her inquir- 
 ing look with a slight smile. 
 
 " Gaeta, my child," he said firmly, " I understand 
 it all now, and perhaps I can help you. Will you 
 trust so delicate a mission in my hands ? " 
 
 " Yes, if you are willing to bother about the troubles 
 of a mere girl like me." 
 
 " Yes, I 'm quite willing," and there was a quality 
 in his voice which she failed to understand. " 'If you 
 don't win, at least cheer the victor,' is my motto," he 
 continued somewhat blindly ; " and I '11 try to say a 
 good word for our friend Veltri, and rescue a sweet 
 rose from a frost that threatens to nip it in the 
 bud." 
 
 " How will you manage ? " 
 
 " I can't tell without thinking it over ; but if you 
 wish to help me, you must be good friends with your 
 mother and avoid seeming to take her words too 
 much to heart." 
 
 " But mamma reflected upon Signer Veltri ; and I 
 want her and every one to know that I 'in willing, if 
 it 's necessary, to stand right up and say that I 'm his 
 friend."
 
 312 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I don't doubt it ; but that is n't necessary, and 
 under the circumstances it wouldn't be friendly." 
 
 The young girl remained silent, evidently consid- 
 ering his words. 
 
 " I agree with you,-' she replied presently, " and 
 I '11 act upon your advice." Then turning impul- 
 sively, she put both of her hands into his, and added 
 fervently, 
 
 " Thank you so much, you dear old friend I "
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 
 
 IT was the afternoon of the feast of the Virgin, and 
 the guests at the Villa Ricci went with their offerings 
 to the little church of San Pietro, where, in obedience 
 to an ancient custom, the parishioners were gathered 
 in force to participate in the ceremony. 
 
 Although simple in its furnishing, the church was 
 made gay with crimson hangings and flowers, while 
 many candles illumined the building, from which the 
 sunlight had been shut out. 
 
 A.S is usual in northern Italy, there were rows of 
 wooden benches for the congregation, and these were 
 filled with swarthy men and boys, and bright-eyed 
 women and girls, the heads of all females being cov- 
 ered with shawls or scarfs of bright colors. An ex- 
 cellent copy of Guido Reni's Crucifixion a gift from 
 the Count Ricci hung over the first altar to the 
 left, while on either side of the chancel were two 
 interesting frescos, one illustrating the conversion of 
 Saint Paul, the other Christ blessing the Apostles. 
 The altar was of gray marble, and this had been dec- 
 orated with lovely flowers sent by Agatha's orders 
 from Varese that morning, while about the chancel- 
 rail of red marble the Duchess and Gaeta had wound 
 garlands of white roses.
 
 314 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 After vespers had been sung, Padre Sacconi an- 
 nounced that offerings would now be received. Then 
 the people filled the aisle and moved slowly to the 
 altar, before which they left their gifts, while the 
 organ pealed merrily, and the priest sprinkled holy 
 water upon the procession. Mr. Dow, who had never 
 before seen this ceremony, noted the gifts with great 
 interest. There was every sort of produce, all deco- 
 rated with nosegays; some givers offering only a 
 gourd or a turnip, in which, however, a sum of money 
 was known to be hid. The richer members of the 
 parish bore gifts of greater value, from wax torches 
 to pieces of plate. 
 
 When all the donors had regained their places, 
 Padre Sacconi blessed the gifts, and then (as was his 
 privilege) proceeded to select one for himself. The 
 choice was watched with anxiety and hope by all, 
 and a murmur of approval arose as the honored father 
 selected a little linnet in a cage, which a child had 
 brought. 
 
 Then he announced that in accordance with cus- 
 tom the offerings would be sold to the highest bidder, 
 for the benefit of the church, and he exhorted thoso 
 present to bid often and liberally. In the sale which 
 followed each youth tried to gain possession of the 
 gift of his sweetheart, the result telling many a deep 
 secret and causing many a pretty blush. The gourds 
 and turnips created genuine excitement, but were 
 usually captured by their donors, unless the sum bid 
 exceeded the sum of money hidden within them, in 
 which event the buyer was the object of great laugh- 
 ter. And now a rich mouchoir-case, which Agatha
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 315 
 
 had made, was put up ; and Mr. Dow, whose mercan- 
 tile spirit was revived, and who permitted nothing 
 to go cheap, girded his loins anew. As Loreno bid, 
 Mr. Dow followed him ; and thus they vied with 
 each other until the prize reached a figure at which 
 Filippo thought it best to resign, leaving Mr. Dow 
 in possession. 
 
 Agatha was greatly disappointed, for she had made 
 the case for Filippo. Yet she gave no sign of her 
 regret, and was grateful that she had not when Mr. 
 Dow, bringing his prize to her, said, 
 
 " Now, Marchesa, you can make your husband a 
 veritable gift ; no, don't decline it ! I bought it with 
 that idea." 
 
 There was no time for further words, for he placed 
 it in her hands and turned eagerly toward the priest 
 to bid on Gaeta's gift. It was a gold pencil, and 
 Mr. Dow, who was over-anxious, occasioned wonder- 
 ment as he exclaimed hastily and in English, 
 
 " I bid twenty-five dollars ! " 
 
 "I said twenty-five dollars ! " he repeated, as Padre 
 Sacconi paused, bewildered by the unfamiliar tongue. 
 
 " You mean lire, I think," suggested Gaeta, behind 
 him. 
 
 " No, I don't," he persisted ; " I mean dollars." 
 
 " Why, that 's ever so many lire," she said. 
 
 "Well, I 'm crushing opposition," he replied, with 
 a nod. " Let me see," he continued, as the priest 
 waited expectantly. " Five times five twenty- 
 five ; five times two ten ; and two are twelve 
 oh, call it one hundred and fifty lire ! " he announced 
 aloud in Italian.
 
 316 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 The peasants looked at him as though he were 
 crazy. " The Signore offers a year's rent for a 
 pencil-case," they said one to another. 
 
 There was naturally no opposition, and he serenely 
 tucked away his prize in his pocket. " I 'd like to 
 keep it myself," he thought ; " but when you 've 
 once put your hand to the plough, it 's a bad habit to 
 look back." 
 
 Presently a small wax figure made by Mercede 
 was offered for sale, and again Mr. Dow and Loreno 
 were rivals ; but this time Loreno showed no sign 
 of faltering, and fairly routed his rival. 
 
 As Mercede turned and looked into his eyes her 
 own eyes sparkled, and her color was uncommonly 
 high. 
 
 " I think I '11 go now," said Agatha, gravely. 
 
 " I shall wait to buy the drawing Francesco made,'' 
 Mercede replied. 
 
 But Agatha was too much hurt to regard appear- 
 ances, and without another word moved away. 
 Seeing Filippo about to follow her, Mercede laid 
 her hand upon his arm. " Wait, won't you ? " she 
 said; "I have counted on you to bid on the picture 
 for me. I am sure Mr. Dow will gladly go with 
 Agatha." 
 
 " Certainly," Mr. Dow replied, hastening after the 
 retreating figure. 
 
 " Why did n't you buy Agatha's gift also ? " M<r- 
 cede asked in a low voice ; " you should have done 
 so, in spite of that idiot." 
 
 " I thought I should contribute enough by buying 
 this statue."
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 317 
 
 " Oh, you men ! you men ! " and Mercede tapped 
 her foot impatiently. 
 
 They had not long to wait before Francesco's 
 drawing was displayed. 
 
 " Bid ten francs for me," Mercede whispered, "and 
 then find Francesco and we will go." 
 
 Loreno made the bid, which was instantly answered 
 by another for double the amount. 
 
 They looked at each other incredulously. 
 
 " Bid twenty-five," she whispered. 
 
 " Fifty ! " answered the strange voice from the 
 other side of the church. 
 
 "Who is it?" asked Mercede; "the drawing is 
 of no value." 
 
 " Shall I bid again ? " Filippo inquired. 
 
 " No," she said ; " if some one else wishes it, let 
 it go." 
 
 As she rose to her feet to leave the church, she 
 looked toward the purchaser to see who he was ; she 
 saw Francesco talking to a gentleman, as they both 
 examined the sketch, and at that moment the stran- 
 ger looked up and their eyes met. 
 
 Mercede stood as though petrified, her cheek 
 blanched, her lips slightly parted. 
 
 " What's the matter?" Filippo asked in alarm. 
 
 When she spoke, it was with great effort. 
 
 " I was looking for Francesco," she said ; " but 
 never mind let us go." 
 
 .The following morning General Ricci received a 
 visitor. He was a square-shouldered man of about 
 thirty-three years ; his eyes were blue, he wore a large
 
 318 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 moustache, and his bearing was soldierly. He came 
 to the villa on foot, and upon receiving his card the 
 General gave orders that he should be shown to 
 the library. They were together for more than an 
 hour, when the General went upstairs and presently 
 returned with Mercede ; then another hour passed 
 before the door was swung open, and the General 
 accompanied his visitor to the loggia where the oth- 
 ers were sitting. 
 
 The stranger was not only a handsome man, but 
 there was also something essentially easy and amia- 
 ble about him that prepossessed one in his favor. As 
 he bowed and walked away, Francesco came around 
 the corner of the house, and catching sight of his 
 friend of the previous night ran joyously toward him. 
 
 "That's a friend I haven't seen for years," ex- 
 claimed the General as he joined the others ; " and 
 here he turns up straight from Africa, where he 's 
 been burying himself ; and strangest of all, happen- 
 ing in at the church last night he made friends with 
 Francesco, and then discovered that he was talking 
 with a grandson of mine." 
 
 While the General was speaking, the visitor was 
 chatting with Francesco as they walked away hand 
 in hand. 
 
 After waiting a few moments, Filippo entered the 
 house and looked into the drawing-room. It was 
 empty, and he went to the library. No one was there, 
 and he wandered on through the other rooms with 
 growing dissatisfaction. 
 
 " I wonder where Mercede is," he muttered. " It 
 doesn't seem reasonable that my thoughtlessness
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 819 
 
 about the mouchoir-case could so upset her. Yet 
 she certainly has not been herself since last night. I 
 wish she would come down ! " he said half aloud. 
 " I believe I '11 send and ask her to go for a walk/' 
 
 Thereupon he rang the bell and sent his invita- 
 tion ; but the maid brought back word that Madame 
 Andre' was resting, and begged to be excused. He 
 was disappointed, and inclined to be cross. Going to 
 the library, he threw himself into a chair near the 
 window and tried to read ; but he found his eyes 
 wandering from the book, and his thoughts reverting 
 to Mercede " resting " in the room over his head. 
 " It 's a strange way to rest ! " he exclaimed half 
 aloud, for the sound of footsteps in her room, as of 
 some one walking back and forth, did not cease. 
 
 Meroede was pacing the room, her face drawn, her 
 eyes burning. Now and again she would sob con- 
 vulsively, as though her nerves were unstrung, and 
 several times she wrung her hands in helpless an- 
 guish. She had expected the visitor, and was quite 
 prepared to be summoned to the library ; but for 
 the question suddenly laid before her she had not 
 fortified herself. 
 
 " This gentleman is now a colonel," her father 
 had said to her after she had bowed formally to the 
 visitor, ignoring the hand he extended. 
 
 " Mercede," he exclaimed, " I acted shamefully 
 toward you and the child. I have come to ask your 
 pardon, and to do what I can to repair the wrong 
 you have suffered. My uncle is dead, and with his 
 property the title of Baron has come to me. I have 
 not played a game of cards since you last saw me,
 
 320 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 nor have I a debt. Will you not let me make 
 amends to you and the child?" 
 
 " You may not be aware, sir," was the cold re- 
 sponse, " that I have made a name far more honored 
 than yours, and far more to be prized by my son 
 than a title ; therefore we are now independent of 
 you. Furthermore, I am no longer a mere woman, 
 but an artist ; and my art is sufficient unto itself." 
 
 " That cannot be, Mercede," interposed her hus- 
 band ; " your art has only what you bestow upon it. 
 Its effect is relative to its borrowed power ; through 
 it you lift or cripple those to whom you appeal. Your 
 art is most sensitive to your life, and the nearer you 
 fashion your life to God's natural laws, not only the 
 more happy you will be as a woman, but the more 
 influence you will have as an artist ! " 
 
 " You will pardon me if I deny point-blank that 
 marriage has any effect upon art except a mischiev- 
 ous effect." 
 
 " You misunderstand me," he explained. " Of 
 course marriage bears no direct relation to art, but 
 character does ; and I say that your life has been 
 gnarled and unsymmetrical, that it must have affected 
 your character and been woven into your art. What I 
 urge is, that you should make your life as near the 
 ideal life of a woman as is possible, if yon would catch 
 the living spirit of Truth and stamp it upon your 
 work." 
 
 "I don't understand you," she said indifferently; 
 " and, any way, all this seems irrelevant. Be good 
 enough to come back to the original subject." 
 
 * You have missed the .application of what I said ;
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 321 
 
 I hoped to show you that even in your art-life the 
 resuming of your full wifely relations would serve 
 your purpose better than the life you propose 
 leading." 
 
 " I do not agree with you," was the firm reply. 
 
 "But, Mercede, for God's sake don't be rash!" 
 exclaimed her father. " Think of your son ! " 
 
 " He being my son, the son of Mercede Andre 
 needs nothing and asks nothing," was the proud 
 answer. 
 
 " But," asked the visitor, " will Francesco think so 
 when he is no longer a boy?" 
 
 She drew herself up haughtily. " God only knows 
 what he may become, with such blood as is in him ! " 
 
 " I have n't come to anger you, Mercede," was the 
 soft answer, " and I wish we might consider this 
 grave matter without bitterness." 
 
 " So we may, sir, if you and my honored father 
 will only grasp the question as it is. Once I was 
 dependent upon my father ; now I am not. Once I 
 was dependent upon you ; now I am not. I have 
 made unaided position, money, and an honored 
 name. You come and ask me to sacrifice the result 
 of my labor by exchanging independence for a bond 
 from which I have worked so hard to escape ; to 
 take again a name I have striven to bury ; to ac- 
 cept a condition it has been my aim to annihilate. 
 Ask this for my own sake, and I laugh at you : you 
 are wise, therefore, in asking in the name of Fran- 
 cesco ; for his sake, I should, perhaps, consider before 
 refusing." 
 
 " Cannot you forgive me, Mercede ? " and he 
 
 21
 
 322 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 looked at her yearningly. " It is not duty alone, but 
 love that brings me back. Once you came to me of 
 your own free-will ; you obeyed your heart. Will 
 the old love avail me nothing now ? Let me try to 
 bring it back to life. It was only when temptation 
 overcame me that its fulness and sincerity were 
 challenged. For my conduct I offer no excuse, yet 
 can I never atone for it? That you have suffered 
 terribly I know, and this knowledge has scourged me 
 through all these years. Only my determination to 
 wait until I had something to offer you and the child 
 has kept me from coming to you long before. I am 
 again regarded with respect as a man and as an 
 officer ; I am wealthy ; I am able to offer you a posi- 
 tion equal to your own. As a husband, I feel that I 
 can make some amends for the past ; as a father, that 
 I can aid you in making our son what you would 
 have him, and thus secure your present joy in him." 
 
 Such words could not fail to impress her. As she 
 listened, her face lost its hardness, and for the first 
 time she kept her eyes upon the speaker. 
 
 " If," he continued, " you have not a spark of love 
 left for me, which God forbid ! still let the lad's 
 love be mine. Give him a father and me a son. Be 
 generous, Mercede. Don't visit the sin of the father 
 upon the child I Don't for pride's sake risk the 
 future of your child" 
 
 She started. His words were the very words with 
 which Filippo had warned her in Paris. This repe- 
 tition made her superstitious. 
 
 " What do you mean by that about the child ? " 
 she asked.
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 323 
 
 "That a son needs the guidance and advice of a 
 father as well as that of a mother ; and also, that if 
 we live apart his position will soon become painful 
 if not intolerable to him. You call yourself Andre 
 his name is Finelli. Does he never ask about his 
 father?" 
 
 " Sometimes, in a childish way. But if you care 
 so much for his happiness, why enlighten his present 
 ignorance ? " 
 
 " Because he is my son and heir." 
 
 " Born out of wedlock." 
 
 " Legitimatized by our subsequent marriage ; and 
 I am his legal guardian." 
 
 She grew white, and stared at him as the truth 
 rushed over her. 
 
 " Then you mean to insist upon your rights as his 
 father?" " 
 
 " I do not mean to ignore my duty as his father." 
 
 " Whether I live with you or not ? " 
 
 " Your living with me is a matter which affects my 
 personal happiness, not my duty to my son," was the 
 firm answer. 
 
 " In other words, you intend if possible to coerce 
 me." 
 
 " Nothing is further from my thoughts. I shall 
 wait for you to come to me, longingly but patiently." 
 
 " Will Francesco be taken from me ? " 
 
 "Not necessarily. But I shall expect to see him 
 freely, and to have a voice in his education and 
 training." 
 
 No one broke -the silence that followed, and for 
 fully fifteen minutes each sat buried in thought.
 
 324 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Then their further communication was without bit- 
 terness, and resulted in the granting to Mercede of 
 such time for consideration as she might desire ; and 
 on her part she granted Colonel Finelli's wish to 
 come and talk with her again the following morning, 
 under the condition that he would not yet betray his 
 identity. 
 
 As Mercede paced her room, thinking of this inter- 
 view and its results, the new conditions only served 
 to quicken her passion for Filippo. Fight against the 
 truth as she would, the struggle was narrowed down 
 to her love for him and her love for her child. She 
 knew well what her duty was; and although she 
 lashed herself into a fury at a choice being forced upon 
 her, this did not cloud her perception. The issue 
 had become too grave for self-deception of any sort. 
 
 " Yet why not live with Ernesto?" she asked her- 
 self. " Why should it interfere with my friendship 
 for Filippo?" 
 
 With the rushing, throbbing answer all further pre- 
 tence or dodging was made useless. Every fibre of 
 her heart told her that she loved Filippo. Even to 
 think of joining her life to that of any other man was 
 abhorrent. But Agatha? Agatha had no reason to 
 complain. Was it not happiness enough to be Filip- 
 po's wife and the mother of his children ? Surely 
 Agatha need not begrudge the crumbs that fed a 
 famished heart! And Ernesto? He was not to be 
 considered. He had made his bed, let him lie in it ! 
 And little Francesco? "Good God, good God!" 
 was all the distracted mind could answer; " what : s 
 to be done ? what is to be done ? "
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 325 
 
 Thus she communed hour after hour, until at last 
 relief came in the suggestion of a compromise : she 
 would take her husband at his word, and postpone 
 either her refusal or consent. In the mean time, 
 hard though it would be, she would spare Francesco 
 occasionally that he might go to his father. This 
 would at least be a better arrangement than the one 
 which had been suggested six years before, when her 
 father, after paying the lieutenant's debts, had in vain 
 tried to reconcile her and her husband. Then the 
 young husband had unflinchingly insisted that his 
 wife must return to his home, while she had been 
 equally firm in refusing. She remembered that he 
 had quoted her letter implying that she would return 
 to him when his debts were paid ; to which she had 
 replied, that after this promise was made he had stolen 
 her marriage certificate, and used her maiden name in 
 telegraphing to her, thus insulting her beyond for- 
 giveness. In obedience to her father's wish she had 
 gone to Rome to consider the matter further, and 
 then her flight to Paris had put an end to the affair. 
 She did not know that immediately after her flight 
 her father had received a most penitent letter from 
 the lieutenant, to which in the first flush of anger 
 the General had replied that Mercede was no 
 longer daughter of his. Yet she did know that her 
 moral position had become vastly stronger, while her 
 husband's was relatively weaker. He came now as 
 a suppliant so far as she personally was concerned, 
 and she would take advantage of the time offered her 
 and postpone giving an answer. The necessity for 
 this beating about the bush was exasperating, and she
 
 326 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 longed to dismiss the wanderer and have done with 
 him ; but he was the child's father, and she knew him 
 to be a determined man. While he had hope con- 
 cerning her he would be much less exacting about 
 Francesco, and she must trust to future events to 
 guide her. At present, time was everything. 
 
 The more she considered this compromise the 
 calmer she became, until at last her perturbation left 
 her, and she prepared to go below and join Filippo. 
 
 Francesco had conceived a great admiration for the 
 stalwart colonel who had talked with him so amiably 
 at the church, who had bought the picture of the 
 rabbits for fifty lire and liked it so well that he had 
 said he would willingly have paid more, and who after 
 the auction had walked as far as the lodge, so in- 
 terested was he in hearing of the rabbits, and the 
 white peacock, and the pony that Uncle Filippo had 
 promised to send from Varese. After their greeting 
 to-day the Colonel suggested that as he had walked 
 to the lodge last night, it would be but fair for Fran- 
 cesco to accompany him to the lodge now. 
 
 " Oh, but I can show you a short cut," was the re- 
 ply, "by the iron gate." 
 
 " Which is nearer from here, the lodge, or the 
 gate ? " 
 
 " The lodge is a little nearer." 
 
 " Then show me the gate, if your rabbits can 
 spare you." 
 
 " I 've just left them. I don't suppose you 'd care 
 to see them now?" 
 
 " Would n't I, though ! Rut T don't think I will go
 
 FRANCESCO'S FRIEND. 327 
 
 to-day; but I hope sometime to see them and 
 before very long," he added with a peculiar wistful- 
 ness in his voice. 
 
 Then they chatted about birds, and this led the 
 Colonel to speak of a parrot that he had brought from 
 Africa ; and he told his wide-eyed listener several 
 little adventures which seemed to the boy to be 
 simply marvellous. 
 
 " I 'd like to go to Africa ! " Francesco exclaimed. 
 
 " Would you ? Do you know where it is ? " 
 
 " Yes ; it's where the nigger-minstrels come from." 
 
 " Perhaps it is ; although the minstrels look to me 
 as though they came from London." 
 
 "Are the people of London black like them? " 
 
 " No ; but the smoke of London makes one almost 
 as black as the minstrels." 
 
 " What a jolly place ! " and the youngster's eyes 
 glistened. Then he added with a look of admiration, 
 " You 've seen lots of places, have n't you? " 
 
 " I 've travelled a little, and so shall you when 
 you are older.'' 
 
 " My papa is away travelling," Francesco re- 
 marked. 
 
 The blue-eyed stranger glanced at him quickly, and 
 then his eyes lingered fondly on the innocent face as 
 the boy stood holding the gate open. 
 
 " Is he ? " he replied. 
 
 " Yes ; he 's been away a long time." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 " I wish he 'd come back," and the wish was em- 
 phasized by a little sigh ; " I 'd like to see him. He 
 must know heaps of adventures by this time."
 
 328 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Do you remember him at all ? " 
 
 " No ; that is, sometimes I think I do, but mamma 
 says it 's nonsense." 
 
 " What do you think you remember about him? " 
 
 The lad paused, and seemed as though trying to 
 recall a dream. 
 
 " I can just remember, sometimes, some one else be- 
 sides mamma, and I think he used to take me up with 
 him on a horse, because I remember how high it was ; 
 and I know he had spurs, although I did n't know that 
 he only fastened them on, for I was very little when 
 he went away." 
 
 The father's eyes looked eagerly into those of his 
 son, and his voice was fervent when he spoke. " Did 
 you love him ? " he asked. 
 
 The little chap closed his eyes, and had recourse to 
 the gentle hiss whereby the Italian gives token of 
 that which is inexpressible. 
 
 " But how can you remember ? " 
 
 " Because I love him now." 
 
 Impulsively joyously the father bent down and 
 kissed the upturned face. 
 
 " God bless you, little one ! " he said, " God bless 
 you for your loyalty ! "
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 IN THE GROVE. 
 
 UPON going downstairs Mercede went to the 
 library, where Filippo was still sitting with a book 
 in his hands. He rose instantly, and came toward 
 her. 
 
 " Don't speak to me for a moment," she said 
 gravely, waving him off and seating herself at the 
 writing-table. " I have a note to write." 
 
 She took up a pen, and quickly wrote the follow- 
 ing lines : 
 
 My DEAR FATHER, This grave affair is one which I 
 alone can decide, and the knowledge of which I alone 
 should control. Therefore I write to ask you neither to 
 mention it to me nor to any one without my consent. 
 Affectionately, 
 
 MERCEDE. 
 
 Enclosing the note in an envelope, she addressed 
 and sealed it, and going to her father's room left it 
 upon his table. 
 
 Now her heart was comparatively light, and as she 
 entered the library again her face wore the smile which 
 Filippo had missed since the previous evening.
 
 330 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Is all your business done ? " he demanded. 
 
 " Nearly, if not quite." 
 
 " I congratulate you ! You bore its weight badly." 
 
 " I hate business, and worry over it, I know." 
 
 " Rather a nice-looking fellow, that soldier ! " he 
 said nonchalantly. 
 
 " Yes, not at all ill-looking." 
 
 " Is he coming again ? " 
 
 " Yes ; to-morrow morning." 
 
 " Who is he ? " he asked bluntly. 
 
 "A friend of my father." 
 
 " But you had met him before this morning ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He was silent again, playing with a book upon the 
 table. 
 
 " He 's just from Africa, I believe ? " 
 
 " Yes. He has inherited some property and a title, 
 and now is going in for art." 
 
 " Oh, indeed ! " and Filippo's face brightened. 
 "What sort of a subject does he wish?" 
 
 " Two figures." 
 
 " There 's your Tristan and Isolde." 
 
 She hesitated, and then laughing nervously re- 
 plied, "I don't think that would suit him. Hagar and 
 Ishmael would probably be more to his taste." 
 
 " Is he lugubrious, then ? " 
 
 " Philanthropic ! But I 'm tired of business ; let 's 
 go for a row." 
 
 Colonel Finelli called the following morning and 
 found Mercede awaiting him. She had on her hat, 
 and proposed that they should walk away from the
 
 IN THE GROVE. 331 
 
 house. The suggestion gave him hope, and he cheer- 
 fully acquiesced. Mercede led him out of an ivy- 
 covered door at the back of the house, and crossing 
 a court containing fountains and beds, of flowers, 
 stepped upon the lawn, which, broken here and 
 there by cypress and palm trees, swept down to the 
 grove. This part of the wood was laid out in huge 
 aisles stretching far away until lost in the bend of the 
 grounds. Making their way across these, they came 
 suddenly upon a lovely outlook. They were upon 
 the edge of a slope thickly grown with trees; beneath 
 them the great plain of Lombardy stretched far away 
 to the hills in the hazy distance, the fertile vineyards 
 and poderi blending their harmonious tints until the 
 eye failed to distinguish between them, and turned 
 gratefully aside to the picturesque silhouette of 
 Alzate-con-Verzago, its ancient tower seeming to be 
 upheld by the clouds. 
 
 Mercede seated herself upon a rustic bench, and 
 both remained silent. " I should rejoice in this view 
 for one reason, if for no other," Mercede remarked 
 presently, "that the trees shut out Visconti's showy 
 monument and the grim unsightly pile of the Villa 
 Inverigo." 
 
 " I agree with you," was the reply. " I cannot 
 understand how such a barrack is considered one of 
 Cagnola's masterpieces." 
 
 " The gods can do no wrong, and Cagnola was 
 deified by his admirers." 
 
 He longed to introduce the subject by which his 
 thoughts were absorbed, but patiently awaited her 
 pleasure.
 
 332 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Several times she made up her mind to suggest the 
 compromise upon which she had decided, but some- 
 how she found it difficult to do so. As the minutes 
 passed, however, she realized that the ice must be 
 broken. 
 
 " After so many years of separation," she began, 
 "the principal influence in the affair you mentioned 
 yesterday is naturally our love for Francesco." 
 
 He watched her gravely, but made no reply. 
 
 " I have, of course, given the subject hours of most 
 anxious thought," she continued, " and I feel that 
 with a spirit of concession governing us both we may 
 easily come to a satisfactory conclusion." 
 
 She had spoken very slowly and distinctly, rather 
 as if she were reciting a prearranged speech, and as 
 she paused to moisten her dry lips she was conscious 
 of being very nervous. Her listener inclined his 
 head as she looked at him for response. 
 
 " Don't you agree witli me ? " she asked, unable 
 to bear his silence. 
 
 "I am not yet clear as to what you have in 
 mind." 
 
 " Then I will tell you simply and directly. It is 
 Francesco whom you love ; it is Francesco whom 
 you need, and whom you can serve. As for me, if 
 it were not for the boy I would not consider it." 
 
 She paused, but he only inclined his head again. 
 
 " But for the child's sake I am willing to consider 
 the question of waiving my well, my indifference, 
 provided by so doing I do not lose the results of the 
 terrible struggle I have made since you since we 
 parted."
 
 IN THE GROVE. 333 
 
 " For which," he said, repeating the words he had 
 used the day before, " I scourge myself day and 
 night." 
 
 She raised her eyebrows slightly. " Be that as it 
 may, the fact remains that I no longer need you." 
 
 " But, Mercede " 
 
 " Nor do you need me." 
 
 He leaned toward her, his eyes bent earnestly 
 upon hers and his hands trembling. " As God is my 
 judge," he exclaimed, " I do assure you " 
 
 " Pray remain calm," she interposed; " we can dis- 
 cuss the matter much more satisfactorily without 
 excitement." 
 
 " But is your love truly dead ? " he asked. " Is 
 there no living ember left ? " 
 
 " The sentiment I had," she replied with corrective 
 emphasis, "although it survived disgrace, was scarcely 
 likely to survive insult." 
 
 The calm reply struck deep, and his eyes fell. 
 
 '' Am I to understand," he said presently, " that 
 you will not consent to live with me ? " 
 
 " Not yet, I cannot ! " 
 
 " Oh, Mercede ! " and his voice showed the depth 
 of his disappointment. 
 
 " If you wish to withdraw your offer of time to me, 
 pray do so," she said quietly ; " or if you wish further 
 time to consider this subject, by all means take it." 
 
 " I need no time ! " he exclaimed, rising and stand- 
 ing before her. " It 's the old question, and I have 
 thought about it a thousand times. My duty is to 
 do justice to Francesco, and I will do it ; but my de- 
 sire is to prove my sincere love for you as well as for
 
 334 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 him. I have made your life bitter, Mercede ; may I 
 not make some atonement by years of devotion ? I 
 cannot believe that the old love is dead. We are 
 still j'oung, and I dare hope may have many years of 
 happiness. I shall rejoice in your great talent, and 
 never embarrass your artistic career in the slightest 
 way. Although now you feel that I am nothing in 
 your life, my love shall rekindle yours ! Your life 
 shall grow fuller and richer, and even your art shall 
 be the gainer." 
 
 u I will think about it," was her brief response. 
 
 He looked at her silently, and then sighed. " I 
 suppose," he said, " that the only course open to me 
 is to leave everything to your pleasure." 
 
 "Thank you," she said with chilling politeness. 
 
 He lingered, searching her face for some sign of 
 relenting. 
 
 " I suppose I must leave you and be patient," he 
 said ; " but may I see Francesco before I go ? " 
 
 " Yes ; but be guarded. He is at the lodge wait- 
 ing for you." 
 
 He stepped forward quickly, his face bright with 
 hope. " This was very thoughtful, Mercede," he 
 said. 
 
 " I am not without feeling ; I remember that you 
 are his father." 
 
 Impulsively he seized her hand. " Give me hope, 
 my darling ! " he exclaimed. " Give me hope that I 
 may also be a husband to you ! " He looked down 
 upon her longingly, hoping to seeder resolution fal- 
 ter ; but without sign of relenting she withdrew her 
 hand.
 
 7A T THE GROVE. 335 
 
 His eyes filled with pain. " Before I return, Mer- 
 cede," he said, " try to think more kindly of me, for 
 no one on earth loves you as I do." 
 
 " Possibly," she remarked. 
 
 He lingered a moment longer ; then summoning 
 his strength of will he turned away and left her.
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE VILLA LORE NO. 
 
 MR. Dow felt the weight of the responsibility he 
 had assumed in regard to Gaeta's theatrical career, 
 and having conned various plans for the fulfilment of 
 his promise, determined at last to follow his golden 
 rule, and await the development of circumstances. 
 His maxim seemed fraught with fortune, for a few 
 days later Agatha opened his way. 
 
 It was during a long ride, and the Marquis and 
 Mercede having galloped on ahead, Mr. Dow and 
 Agatha were left in the rear together. 
 
 Agatha had spoken of the fete to be given her at 
 Varese upon her birthday, and expressed the hope 
 that Mr. Dow would arrange to be present. He ac- 
 cepted with becoming gratitude, and this led them 
 to speak of the preparations which were making. 
 Among the other incidents of the occasion, Agatha 
 mentioned the " Pilgrimage of the Rose," describing 
 the tableaux which were to illustrate the music. 
 
 " Who will be the Rose ? " asked Mr. Dow. 
 
 " Gaeta." 
 
 " Then this is what she referred to," he said, 
 " when she told me that her mother objected to her 
 giving the time necessary for rehearsal at Vurese."
 
 THE VILLA LORENO. 337 
 
 " .Did she? " and Agatha seemed perplexed. 
 
 " Yes ; and I suspect that it was on account of your 
 charming conductor, Signer Veltri." 
 
 " What ! the Duchess objects to him ? " 
 
 " So I understood from Gaeta." 
 
 " How extraordinary ! Why ? " 
 
 " The Duchess thinks discretion is advisable, I 
 believe." 
 
 " How absurd ! Did you gather the impression 
 from Gaeta that there is any reason for this? " 
 
 " Her mind seemed full of the spectacle." 
 
 " Of course. I '11 see my sister-in-law and talk 
 with her. Gaeta must keep the part, for there is no 
 one to take her place." 
 
 " I hope you will succeed, for her heart seems set 
 upon it." 
 
 " Poor little thing ! " 
 
 " Yes," answered the hypocrite, blandly ; " it is n't 
 to be supposed that she comprehends her mother's 
 real reason, but all the same it 's the worst possible 
 course to pursue." 
 
 " You are quite right ; the Duchess will simply 
 suggest the thing to her." 
 
 "And by making it forbidden fruit, make the temp- 
 tation irresistible." 
 
 " Precisely." 
 
 Thus it was that Mr. Dow sat quietly " waiting to 
 get there," while Agatha wound the machinery. 
 
 That same afternoon she walked over to the Villa 
 Faviola, and while the General, who was her escort, 
 talked with the Duke in the library, Agatha argued 
 with her sister-in-law in the latter's boudoir. What- 
 
 22
 
 338 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 ever form of argument she chose, proved to be the 
 right one ; for at the end of thirty minutes the 
 Duchess agreed to permit Gaeta to go to Varese a 
 few days before the Duke and herself, provided 
 Agatha and Mr. Dow would watch her sufficiently 
 to keep her out of mischief. 
 
 " I shall be rather busy," Agatha rejoined, " but 
 I '11 delegate Mr. Dow, who will have nothing else to 
 do, to be her guardian angel until you come." 
 
 This decision Mr. Dow received with preternatural 
 gravity, but upon communicating it that same even- 
 ing to the eager Gaeta, his features relaxed. 
 
 Since Filippo's arrival at Erba nothing apparently 
 had been further from his thoughts than the idea of 
 shortening his visit and leaving Agatha behind him. 
 As the time drew near for the departure of her 
 cousins, Mercede grew more reconciled to the idea of 
 going to Varese. To be a mere guest in Filippo's 
 house, and to see Agatha presiding over it as its mis- 
 tress, would no doubt be hard to bear ; but Filippo at 
 any price was better than no Filippo. Besides, what 
 excuse could she give for absenting herself from 
 Agatha's fete ? 
 
 " I hear that Varese is greatly excited about the 
 fete," said Filippo to his wife one evening when they 
 were alone. 
 
 " I suppose so ; it is so quiet there." 
 
 " We shall have our hands full, shall we not, you 
 with the decorations and the rest, and I with the 
 open-air theatre ? " 
 
 " Yes, indeed ; but Signor Veltri wrote from Milan, 
 you know, that the orchestra is engaged, and he will
 
 THE VILLA LORE NO. 339 
 
 bring it with him next Monday, and my part of the 
 preparations is already well in hand. You are not 
 anxious about the stage, are you ? " 
 
 " No not about the stage itself," he said dubiously ; 
 " that can be arranged." 
 
 " About anything else ? " 
 
 " I must confess I wish the tableaux could be taken 
 off my hands." 
 
 Her heart sank, for she saw what was in his mind. 
 
 "Don't you think," he added, " that Mercede 
 might be willing to go over and help us ? " 
 
 She had been dreading this. She felt quite equal to 
 the task before her, provided her mind was relieved 
 from the strain of Mercede 's presence ; but simply to 
 transfer to Varese the galling trials of the past few 
 weeks would, she felt, blight her spirit and paralyze 
 her energy. 
 
 She felt that the wear and tear of this constant 
 self-repression was undermining her strength ; that 
 she should break down unless she had relief, if only 
 temporary, from the anguish of seeing Mercede's 
 complacency at her influence over Filippo. Yet she 
 did not lose sight of her general purpose, and believed 
 that to oppose her husband's wish would be most 
 unwise. If he were conscious that she had reason 
 for pain, he would be doubly sensitive to anything 
 that might seem a protest from her ; and his appar- 
 ent indifference, or, to say the least, his blindness to 
 her humiliating position, was a sufficient indication 
 that any protest even though indirect would 
 be most ill-timed and reactionary. Nevertheless, 
 she could not reconcile herself to the thought of
 
 340 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 losing her anticipated respite, and could have cried 
 with disappointment. The first temptation to op- 
 pose Filippo's wish was conquered, yet not com- 
 pletely : she did not lose sight of her purpose, but 
 risked a compromise. 
 
 " I think Mercede's aid would be invaluable in the 
 tableaux," she said, breaking the long pause, u but I 'd 
 rather not have her come until two or three days 
 after I get home. You see, she has never been to 
 the villa, and I should like to look it over." 
 
 " Still, Mercede is n't like company. You need n't 
 feel sensitive about her." 
 
 " Perhaps not ; but any woman will tell you that 
 after an absence of many months she would wish 
 time to glance over her house before receiving even 
 a near relative as a guest." 
 
 " I really don't see good reason for such formality. 
 If you have n't confidence in your housekeeper, get 
 another." 
 
 " Don't be impatient with me, dear boy ! " she said 
 pleadingly. " I only suggest that we go, say on 
 Friday, and ask Mercede and my uncle to follow on 
 Monday, the day Veltri arrives." 
 
 " How about Mr. Dow and Gaeta ? " 
 
 It had been her intention to take them with Filippo 
 and herself, but she changed her plan on the instant. 
 
 " They won't be needed before Monday, either." 
 
 He was somewhat surprised at her answer, but he 
 made no further opposition to her wish. 
 
 The Villa Loreno, overhanging the hamlet of Gaz- 
 zada, and four miles distant from Varese, was the
 
 THE VILLA LOEENO. 341 
 
 pride of its district, and when the family was absent, 
 visitors to the neighborhood were brought to see it. 
 The grounds were beautiful, and thirty gardeners 
 were always employed in keeping the place in per- 
 fect condition. This number was not indeed needed, 
 but the Marquis made it a training-school for young 
 men around Varese, who being trained at the Villa 
 Loreno, were in great demand, even as far as Como 
 and Lugano. He was opposed to the giving of 
 money without some return, believing it to be harm- 
 ful rather than beneficial to the recipient, and in. 
 obedience to this theory gave employment to as 
 many of the poor as he could. No young man felt 
 that he need be idle, with the chances opened up to 
 him by the Marquis ; and Filippo's efforts compared 
 very favorably with Agatha's work for the benefit 
 of the Varese damsels, the aggregate of their efforts 
 really adding much to the welfare of the surrounding 
 district. 
 
 Filippo had driven to the station to meet the 
 General, Mercede, Mr. Dow and Gaeta, the first 
 arrivals for the festa. Mercede seemed unusually 
 grave, and this fact was made conspicuous by the 
 high spirits of the others. When the carry-all swung 
 past the lodge and entered the grounds, an involun- 
 tary exclamation of delight sprang to Mercede's lips. 
 A vast English lawn, bordered by a dense grove, 
 swept up to the distant villa, beyond which the 
 swelling outline of the lower Alps climbed higher 
 and higher until its soft purple green merged into 
 dazzling white a3 it mounted to the tip of the 
 Fleischhorn, on to the peaks of the great Mis-
 
 342 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 chabel, and then shot upwards, verily to the clouds, 
 as it skirted the stupendous precipices of Monte 
 Rosa the Majestic. 
 
 " There it is ! Is n't it a magnificent view ? " ex- 
 claimed the General, who had been discoursing upon 
 it since leaving Erba. 
 
 *' It seems much the same that we have, ex- 
 cept that the mountains are nearer," Mercede re- 
 plied. 
 
 "Perhaps, just in front. But look, Mercede! 
 see how the range comes up as we move. See ! " 
 and the old man rose to his feet, carried away by 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 " Where does it end, Marquis ? " Mr. Dow asked 
 impressively, as mountain after mountain was re- 
 vealed, until the whole Pennine range was in sight, 
 while yet other ranges appeared beyond. 
 
 " Do you see that needle-point rising high beyond 
 the others?" Filippo said, pointing behind them ; "it 
 looks like vapor, but I can see it distinctly." 
 
 " Yes. Well, what is it ? " 
 
 " Monte Viso." 
 
 " Nearly two hundred kilometres from here ! " 
 exclaimed the General. 
 
 " How many miles is that?" asked the American. 
 
 " About one hundred and ten," said Filippo. 
 
 " And I see mountains even farther." 
 
 "Yes; from the tower yonder," and he indicated 
 a granite tower upon a knoll, " on a clear day, one 
 gets a fair view of the Maritime range." 
 
 " Yet one tires of such a long view," Mercede said 
 listlessly, " at least I do ; " and she turned her eyes
 
 THE VILLA LORENO. 343 
 
 away from the mountains and glanced critically at 
 the house which they were approaching. " There 's 
 Agatha!" and she waved her hand. 
 
 As Mercede entered the house she could not but 
 be struck with the splendor of its proportions and 
 effect. 
 
 Filippo joined her, and ushered the way into a large 
 ante-sala like that of some old feudal castle. The 
 ceiling was panelled, and from the centre hung a 
 chandelier of beaten iron. The walls were covered 
 with tapestries of rich design, and lined on two 
 sides by a carved wainscoting, against which stood 
 long and highly-carved benches, upon which a dozen 
 or more cushions were thrown. The floor was of 
 marble ; the doors were broad and built into the 
 room like storm-doors, the sides of the frames and 
 the doors themselves being triumphs of the carver's 
 skill. A long hinge of brass ran the entire width of 
 each door, both at the top and bottom, while a flat 
 handle of the same metal hung upon a hinge and 
 required to be lifted when used. Above each door 
 was an elaborate over-door rising, not unlike a cathe- 
 dral window, to the ceiling. Great brass fire-dogs 
 stood under a massive chimney built out into the 
 room and decorated with the Marquis's coat of arms. 
 In front of this fireplace stood another bench with 
 cushioned seat. The window-hangings were of an 
 antique fabric of dull colors that blended with the 
 general tone of the room, and at this moment the 
 casements of colored glass were thrown open to 
 admit the summer air. 
 
 Agatha, who had entered behind Mercede, glanced
 
 344 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 at her face with interest as she looked about her 
 critically. 
 
 " It 's charming," she said coldly. 
 
 " I suppose you are tired and would like to go to 
 your own room," said her hostess. 
 
 When Mercede was alone she sank into a deep arm- 
 chair and looked about her. The room was large, 
 the ceiling wainscoted, as were most of the rooms 
 through which she had passed, the fireplace was 
 open and large, with a cushioned bench before it, as 
 in the ante-sala. The walls were hung with fine old 
 silks from the looms of Varese, the floors were of pol- 
 ished wood, and the furniture of quaint design. The 
 bed was covered by a rich canopy, and protected on all 
 sides by damask curtains. Rising, she went through 
 a door leading to a luxurious dressing-room, beyond 
 which was a diminutive private chapel. She glanced 
 carelessly around it, pausing only to examine a carved 
 crucifix above the prie-Dieu, and then closing the 
 door she turned the key and went back to her bed- 
 room. 
 
 " It 's undeniably splendid," she thought, " but I 
 should think she would feel lost in it. A cottage, 
 with roses and a cat and some bird-cages, is more 
 in her style. This dwarfs a woman like Agatha, 
 * Agatha Page,' as he used to say in Paris." She lay 
 back in her chair, her eyes fixed upon the wall. 
 "Ah! what a fool I was!" she exclaimed, suddenly 
 clenching her fingers. " Yet how could I know ? I 
 played into her hands ; I praised her ; I excited his 
 fear of losing her. I must needs meddle, and now 
 I have my reward. He loves me, I love him ; and
 
 THE VILLA LORE NO. 345 
 
 she stands between us, she and Ernesto. But 
 what of it ? Which is better worth having, the 
 shadow, or the substance? What, I wonder, will be 
 the outcome of it all? On one thing, however, I 'm 
 determined," and her eye shone coldly, "neither 
 Agatha nor Ernesto nor any one nor every one shall 
 come between Filippo and me ! Let Agatha keep 
 his name and his keys ; his heart is mine." 
 
 It is to be hoped that Mr. Dow did his duty con- 
 scientiously during the next few days, for neither 
 Agatha nor Filippo had much time for anything ex- 
 cept the arrangements for the coming festival. The 
 music was entirely in the hands of Signor Veltri, 
 while Filippo devoted himself to the arranging of the 
 stage upon the lawn in front of the house. Yet an 
 orchestra, cannot rehearse without intermission, nor 
 can the most willing of subjects pose without rest. 
 Both Veltri and Gaeta, therefore, had many a tempt- 
 ing opportunity for pleasant chats and walks in which 
 Mr. Dow was supposed to participate, but as Gaeta 
 had unearthed from her uncle's library a famous 
 novel by Manzoni, which she advised him to read, 
 while the " youngsters," as he called them, talked 
 together, he became so absorbed in his book that he 
 failed to interrupt them. Then too he developed 
 a sudden lameness of the right leg, an incon- 
 venience too trifling to mention to his hostess, but 
 which soon after starting for a walk with his young 
 companions necessitated his resting upon some 
 shady bank which- they should repass on their home- 
 ward way.
 
 346 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Gaeta as the Rose was sure to be charming, while 
 the other characters of the tableaux were gladly 
 undertaken by young neighbors of the Marquis, 
 whose ardor and assiduous rehearsing under Mer- 
 cede's direction made amends for the shortness of 
 the time granted them for preparation, Mercede 
 certainly worked with enthusiasm, while Filippo was 
 here, there, and everywhere ; but both found fre- 
 quent need of consulting together, while Agatha 
 worked alone, with pain in her heart and a song 
 upon her lips.
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 
 
 AT last the morning of the festa broke, bright and 
 clear ; and as Veltri left his room for an early stroll, 
 he found the servants moving about noiselessly, strew- 
 ing freshly-cut flowers over the mosaic floors, and 
 twining garlands about the balusters of the stairs, 
 while growing plants and spreading palms almost 
 hid the walls, and outside upon the veranda thick 
 festoons hung between the pillars. 
 
 "It must delight her eye," thought the youth; 
 "but will anything gladden her heart, even on this 
 day?" Then he walked on slowly, thinking as he 
 went. " They are inseparable," he muttered ; " they 
 stroll together before breakfast; at the meal they 
 talk together; then she hovers about him while he 
 smokes ; when at work they are constantly consult- 
 ing together ; dinner finds them 'absorbed in each 
 other ; the evening emphasizes the devotion of the 
 day ; while the brave wife smiles into the faces of 
 her guests, and all try to ignore that which cannot 
 be hidden. What a painful time it has been ! I 
 fear there is trouble near for these dearest of my 
 friends."
 
 348 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 He heard a footstep approaching, and looked up. 
 It was the Marquis, who held in his hand a large 
 bunch of forget-me-nots. 
 
 " Good-morning ! " Loreno exclaimed cheerily ; 
 " are they not making the house beautiful ? " 
 
 " Beautiful indeed ! " 
 
 He held up the flowers. " And see these," he 
 said. " On the Marchesa's birthday I always gather 
 flowers for her with the dew upon them. It baptizes 
 the new year! " 
 
 " Then God's peace go with it ! " exclaimed the 
 youth, fervently. 
 
 Loreno raised the flowers admiringly, and as Veltri 
 looked at them his face became sad, a fact which 
 aroused his companion's interest. 
 
 " Don't they please you? " he asked. 
 
 " I recalled the old legend which gave the flower 
 its name, at least in poetry." 
 
 " I don't remember it." 
 
 " A knight in reaching for a bunch upon the 
 bank of the Danube fell into deep water, and as he 
 was swept away by a heartless current he flung the 
 flowers at the feet of his lady, crying, ' Vergiss mich 
 nicht ! ' Yes, they are very pretty, but it was a poor 
 exchange." 
 
 "You are more* poetical than I am." 
 
 " I confess flowers seem symbolical." 
 
 " And diabolical, I should think, from your point 
 of view." 
 
 "In some cases even that." 
 
 Their eyes met for an instant, and then Loreno, col- 
 oring slightly, moved away, but immediately turned
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 349 
 
 back, and said quietly, " I don't believe, Veltri, that 
 I interpret your meaning rightly. But I won't stop 
 longer, for I don't like your mood." And turning 
 on his heel he strode toward the house. 
 
 As he ascended the steps of the veranda Madame 
 Andre" came out of the door. 
 
 " Are these not lovely ? " he asked, holding up the 
 flowers. 
 
 She glanced at them and her manner changed. 
 
 "Yes, very pretty indeed," she answered coldly. 
 
 "I hope," he exclaimed, "that Agatha will appre- 
 ciate them more than the rest of you seem to." 
 
 She raised her eyebrows slightly. " Who else has 
 seen them?" 
 
 " Veltri ; they made him very mournful." 
 
 She evidently did not care to dwell upon the 
 flowers, and asked where he had met Signor Veltri. 
 
 " He was going toward the garden." 
 
 u I '11 go look for him," she said, walking down 
 the steps. 
 
 " Very well ; I '11 take these upstairs and then join 
 
 you." 
 
 " You 've evidently had your walk," she said, 
 without looking back ; " I '11 go alone this morn- 
 ing." 
 
 He stood looking after her with a puzzled expres- 
 sion upon his face. " Early rising does n't seem to 
 agree with this household," he muttered dryly, as he 
 went into the ^ouse. 
 
 When Agatha opened her eyes, her first glance was 
 toward her dressing-table, and as she saw the flowers 
 her heart gave a quick bound. Hastily going to the
 
 350 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 emblems of her husband's thoughtful ness, she bent 
 down and kissed them with a sense of joy she had 
 not known for many a long day. She told her maid 
 to lay out a white muslin dress ; and as she stepped 
 from her room with a bunch of the forget-me-nots 
 on her breast and the old bright expression light- 
 ing up her face, she seemed to have caught the 
 freshness of the morning. 
 
 Her heart beat rapidly as she saw her husband in 
 the corridor below awaiting her coming. He came 
 forward to meet her, and kissing her whispered, 
 44 Many happy returns Agatha Page." Then 
 tucking her arm within his own he led her forward 
 to receive the congratulations and compliments of 
 the others. 
 
 In the centre of the table was a huge basket of 
 flowers sent by the peasants of the neighborhood, 
 and around her plate were ranged various gifts. 
 
 She thanked each giver in turn, and at last gave 
 her attention to a lovely copy upon porcelain of the 
 Sistine Madonna, which did not bear any name. 
 
 * 4 Oh, how beautiful!" she exclaimed, "and my 
 favorite painting. Whom have I to thank for 
 this?" 
 
 No one spoke. 
 
 44 There seems to be something written on the 
 back," suggested Mr. Dow. 
 
 She turned the picture and read silently some 
 birthday verses written by her husband. 
 
 They were dated at Erba. This, then, was the 
 mj'sterious ' 4 writing " that one morning while there 
 he had remained at home to finish.
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 351 
 
 Agatha was humbled, and without comment turned 
 and kissed him fervently. It seemed as though a 
 new era of happiness had opened with the new year. 
 
 " Read the verses to us," suggested the General. 
 
 " I protest ! " exclaimed Filippo. 
 
 A chorus of entreaty, however, overruled his mod- 
 esty, and Agatha read the verses aloud. 
 
 "What sort of metre do you call that?" inquired 
 Mr. Dow, critically. 
 
 " Ante - Chinese Imperial," responded Loreno, 
 gravely. 
 
 Mr. Dow smiled, although doubtfully, for he rather 
 dreaded tilting with this scornful young Marquis. 
 
 " What do you mean? " the Count asked. 
 
 " Upon the Chinese stage," explained Filippo, 
 " royalty is expressed by the walk of the actor per- 
 sonifying it. He moves in a set fashion, lifting each 
 foot high and throwing it forward with a motion not 
 unlike that of a pawing horse. His movement, there- 
 fore, is embarrassed by the need of keeping to his 
 Imperial step. In the same way real poetry is recog- 
 nized by its metre. But mere poetical expression is 
 but a peasant, and may walk as naturally as it 
 pleases ; while my homely thought shuffles humbly 
 on in the way most easy to it, without for an instant 
 presuming to appropriate the recognized step of 
 royalty." 
 
 This explanation seemed to amuse every one ex- 
 cept Agatha and Mercede, the wife, because she 
 thought the lines were charming ; the artist, because 
 even this slight defiance of conventionality gratified 
 her.
 
 352 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 It had been arranged that the morning should be 
 passed quietly, as the afternoon and evening would 
 be fatiguing. At three o'clock the peasantry were to 
 offer their congratulations, and Loreno had arranged 
 to give them a luncheon in the grove, followed by 
 games for prizes until sunset. At dark there were 
 to be fireworks such as the simple peasants had 
 never dreamed of, and at nine o'clock a hundred or 
 more of the gentry of the surrounding country had 
 been invited to attend the performance of " The 
 Pilgrimage of the Rose," to be followed by a ball, 
 for which preparations had been making for several 
 days. 
 
 " Well, Agatha Page," said Filippo, taking both 
 her hands in his, " where shall we go, and what 
 shall we do this morning ? This afternoon, I fear I 
 shall be very busy." 
 
 " Let us go for a stroll," she said, " and then to 
 the boat-house, where you shall read to me." 
 
 So while Mercede was sitting on the piazza talk- 
 ing with Mr. Dow and Veltri, and wondering where 
 Filippo could be, she caught sight of him and Agatha 
 going across the edge of the lawn. 
 
 Suddenly her face lighted with pleasure. " He 's 
 coming for me," she thought, as she saw Filippo turn 
 and come back. " Shall I go, or shall I give him to 
 her for this whole long morning?" 
 
 He came straight toward her and ascended the 
 steps. She followed him with her eyes expectantly. 
 He smiled pleasantly and nodded. 
 
 " I forgot something," he said, and passed into 
 the house-
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 353 
 
 Mercede scarcely concealed her chagrin. Then it 
 flashed across her mind that his words were only a 
 cloak to his real purpose in returning, and that he 
 was waiting for her. Making an excuse she left her 
 friends, but Filippo was not in the corridor. She 
 smiled as she heard some one whistling in the library, 
 and glancing through the partly-opened door saw 
 him looking along a row of books. 
 
 She pushed the door open and entered. 
 
 " Can I help you ? " she inquired. 
 
 " Come in," he responded cordially. " You are 
 just the one I was wishing for." 
 
 " Yes? " and Mercede thought to tease him a bit. 
 " Do you wish me to help you to find some book ? " 
 
 " If you would be so kind." 
 
 She admired his sang froid, but appeared to take 
 him at his word. "What book is it ? " 
 
 "The one you asked me to read to you yesterday." 
 
 The hint seemed broad, but she kept her coun- 
 tenance. 
 
 " It 's in my room," she replied ; "I'll get it." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 As she brought it down and placed it in his hands 
 she waited curiously to see what he would do next. 
 
 " Au revoir," he said, moving toward the door. 
 
 " Good-by," she responded, with inward amuse- 
 ment. Then as he stepped into the hall she called 
 his name, and he stopped and looked back. 
 
 " Where are you going to read, in the grove ? " 
 
 " No ; Agatha suggested the boat-house." 
 
 Her eyebrows knit with genuine surprise. " Aga- 
 tha ! Are you going to read our book to her? " 
 
 23
 
 354 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I thought she would enjoy it ; don't you think 
 so ? " 
 
 She did not reply, but stood looking at him. 
 
 " I did n't suppose you wanted it for her," she said, 
 breaking the silence. 
 
 He came forward. " Perhaps you were going to 
 read it yourself." 
 
 " Never mind ; I can find something else." 
 
 " No, indeed ; I won't consent to take it. I did n't 
 think of your wanting it, for you said you wished to 
 read it with me." 
 
 She looked at him searchingly yet half smilingly. 
 
 "Are you serious?" she asked. 
 
 " Certainly ; did n't you ? " 
 
 " I mean about reading that book to Agatha." 
 
 " I confess I was looking for it, but something else 
 will do just as well." His eye fell upon a small vol- 
 ume on the shelf behind her. " There is De Musset, 
 I '11 take that ; " and he went and took down the 
 book. 
 
 Without another word or look Mercede arose and 
 left the room. He stood staring after her for a mo- 
 ment. " I suppose every genius is eccentric," he 
 said ; " but she seems particularly nervous this morn- 
 ing." Then he started to rejoin his wife. 
 
 As he rounded a bend of a shaded path he discov- 
 ered Agatha talking with what at first sight appeared 
 to be an animated cornucopia, for a huge basket of this 
 shape was strapped upon the back of a young girl, 
 its capacious mouth coming above her head, while its 
 point reached nearly to her ankles. As she turned 
 a little "he saw that her braided hair was adorned
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 355 
 
 with gay ribbons, while around her neck a white 
 cloth was pinned which fell to her waist and hung 
 loose about her arms like a primitive dolman. A 
 checked apron of coarse stuff nearly covered her 
 dress, which reached to the neatly-turned ankles, and 
 attracted his attention to the dainty feet clad in 
 striped stockings and shod with shoes of wood, the 
 soles of which were raised several inches from the 
 ground by what may be described as double French 
 heels, one at the curve of the foot and the other 
 at the toe. Above the latter a leather band nailed 
 on both sides of the shoe ran over the wearer's foot, 
 which enabled her by the aid of a gliding motion to 
 keep from casting the picturesque things. She held 
 a small wicker basket containing wild lilies-of-the- 
 valley, which she was offering to Agatha. As Filippo 
 drew nearer, he saw his wife accept the flowers, 
 whereupon the delighted girl kissed both the Mar- 
 chesa's hands, and with blushing cheeks and gleam- 
 ing teeth dropped a little courtesy and turned to go 
 away. 
 
 " Wait, little one ! " he called. 
 
 The girl turned in surprise. 
 
 " And who are you ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Bettina, the baker's daughter, Eccellenza." And 
 she dropped another courtesy. 
 
 " And why did you give the Marchesa these 
 flowers ? " 
 
 " I picked them for her festa, and brought them 
 now, as I cannot come this afternoon." 
 
 " You are very thoughtful, but the basket is 
 empty."
 
 356 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Yes, Signore ; the Marchesa insisted upon my 
 keeping it." 
 
 " Well, I will ask the Marchesa to accept it ; arid 
 in its place perhaps you will do me the favor of going 
 to Varese and buying a work-basket I saw yesterday 
 in a window near the post-office." He wrote a line 
 upon a card. " Give the shopkeeper this card, and 
 he will give you your basket." 
 
 " Oh, Signore, this is too much ! " 
 
 " I wish you to be reminded of us, since you must 
 stay away this afternoon." 
 
 She accepted the card with dancing eyes and 
 proper thanks, and glided down the path, turning 
 now and again to kiss her hand. 
 
 " What a sweet little thing she is ! " he said. 
 
 " And what a dear fellow you are ! " was the 
 proud answer. " I saw that work-basket and quite 
 coveted it." 
 
 They strolled on together and presently turned into 
 a small open space bordered by the thick grove. From 
 tree to tree ivy grew in low festoons, hiding each trunk 
 from the ground to its lowest branches. At one end 
 of the opening rose a low green bank upon which was 
 an aviary of rare birds, while the opposite bank con- 
 tained an open pagoda rilled with flowers and plants ; 
 birilli or tennis would find here an ideal home. At 
 the moment several brilliant peacocks lay in a slant 
 of sunshine which fell upon the turf, while others 
 with spread tails stalked slowly about ; doves circled 
 overhead, and the songs of birds filled the air. 
 
 " This is the historical spot," said Filippo, " to 
 which I brought Miss Agatha Page the night she
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 357 
 
 promised to be my wife. Do you remember the 
 walk down the mountain that night, and then the 
 ride home, and after dinner the stroll we took, and 
 our wonderful talk here ? " 
 
 Her eyes grew moist at the vivid recollection. 
 
 " I remember every happy moment," she said, press- 
 ing his arm tightly and laying her cheek caressingly 
 against it. 
 
 " Even the nightingale that sang to us from that 
 ilex-tree ? " 
 
 " Perfectly." 
 
 " And how I went for your violin, that you might 
 play Du bist die Ruh' ' to me ? " 
 
 " Everything Luitello." 
 
 He raised the happy face to his and kissed it 
 tenderly. 
 
 " Come," she exclaimed presently. " Let us go 
 down to the boat-house." 
 
 They followed a broad path to the edge of the 
 wood, where an undulating lawn led down to a lit- 
 tle lake that seemed like a sapphire dropped from 
 heaven. Skirting its shore for a short distance, they 
 rounded a curve outlined by trees, and came sud- 
 denly upon a low rambling building half buried in 
 wisteria which clung to its sides and covered its 
 porch, while the branches of great oaks bent ten- 
 derly over its gable roof. 
 
 Running up the half-dozen stone steps, Agatha 
 disappeared within the boat-house, but in a moment 
 threw open a lattice window, and leaning her arms 
 upon the sill, smiled happily upon her husband, who 
 stood just below rolling a cigarette.
 
 358 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Here is where I used to come and dream dur- 
 ing that first visit," she said ; and as his eyes smiled 
 back into hers she added, " The maidens of the 
 Brianza *say that when the wisteria rustles it is 
 Cupid dancing with delight. Do you wonder that 
 I came here ? " 
 
 " No ; I only wonder that such a lake had no 
 Luitello." 
 
 "Who knows? But my eyes could see only the 
 one seeking me," and as he looked up at her she 
 daintily threw him a kiss. 
 
 "Where shall we read," he asked, "iuthe old 
 place ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 So, going up the steps of the porch, he seated 
 himself upon a rustic bench, where Agatha joined 
 him. They sat and chatted as they looked through 
 the vines upon the rippling water and its wooded 
 banks, until an hour slipped by ; the charm of the 
 sweet poet failing to allure them from the spell of 
 their happy communion. 
 
 Their tete-a-tete was disturbed by the sound of 
 oars, and Filippo, going to the corner of the boat- 
 house, saw Gaeta calmly rowing a boat, in the stern 
 of which sat Veltri. 
 
 "Where have you two truants been?" he in- 
 quired, as the boat glided under the house and came 
 to rest. 
 
 " How do you do ? " and Gaeta nodded. " What 
 have you done with Mr. Dow ? " 
 
 " Have you been rowing around the lake looking 
 for him?"
 
 OLD ASSOCIATIONS. 359 
 
 " No ; we were misdirected by him. I wanted to 
 speak to Aunt Agatha, and Mr. Dow said she had 
 gone with you for a walk, and he and Signer Veltri 
 came with me to look for you. We came down here, 
 and Mr. Dow said he thought you were across the 
 lake, and that if we would kindly go and see, he 
 would wait for us. It 's been a terribly hot row." 
 And she made a great show of fanning herself. 
 
 Filippo was amused. " Perhaps he grew a little 
 alarmed at your protracted absence," he said cruelly, 
 " and has gone to the other side in search of you. 
 Had n't you better row over again and see ? " 
 
 "I came to find Aunt Agatha," was the dignified 
 response. " Is she here ? " 
 
 " Are you looking for me, dear ? " called a voice 
 from above. 
 
 Gaeta hastened up the steps, leaving Veltri to meet 
 the adversary single-handed. 
 
 " It 's very kind of you to take such trouble to look 
 for us," said Loreno, blandly. 
 
 " Oh, not at all; I was glad to be of assistance to 
 the Signorina." 
 
 " And on such a warm morning, too." 
 
 " Yet no warmer for me than for Donna Gaeta." 
 
 " True enough ; but why did n't Mr. Dow accom- 
 pany you ?" 
 
 " He said that he did n't care to go unless he rowed, 
 and that it makes him ill to ride backwards. Ah, 
 here he comes ! " 
 
 Mr. Dow reported the arrival of the Duke and 
 Duchess Faviola. . He had onl}' caught sight of them 
 in the distance, as he hurried away to inform Gaeta.
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 
 
 THE reception of the peasantry, the feast, and 
 fireworks had passed off most successfully, and al- 
 though rather tired, Agatha found herself borne up 
 by the excitement and her happy heart. Filippo had 
 devoted himself to her throughout the day ; for even 
 when he was engaged in furthering the pleasure of 
 her humble visitors he managed to return frequently 
 to her side, and she had been much interested in see- 
 ing how well he handled the large crowd, which he 
 directed firmly without emphasizing the fact. 
 
 Then, too, she had been justly proud of the reply 
 he made in her behalf to the toast proposed in her 
 honor by Padre Sacconi, who had come from Elba 
 that morning. Agatha had only heard her husband 
 speak publicly a few times, and she listened with 
 deep admiration ; and as he took his seat amid a vol- 
 ley of bravi and a storm of hand-clapping, she felt 
 that there was reason for her pride in the love of 
 such a man. 
 
 The neighbors and friends invited for the evening 
 began to arrive soon after nine o'clock. The trees 
 were illuminated, as far as the eye coul<\ penetrate, by 
 hundreds of colored lights, while the bright moonlight
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 361 
 
 upon the open spaces aided in creating a ravishing 
 effect. In front of the stage upon the lawn a hun- 
 dred or more chairs were placed for the audience; 
 and as the music rose gently in the uncertain light, 
 its effect was charming. The singers were profes- 
 sionals from Milan, and they rendered their parts 
 well ; no hitch occurred between orchestra, singers, 
 and those performing in the tableaux, while the 
 series of pictures which illustrated the words was 
 both vivid and artistic. 
 
 By eleven o'clock the last curtain fell, amid enthu- 
 siastic plaudits. Then some of the guests strolled 
 through the grounds, and others went to the ball- 
 room, allured by the strains of a waltz. 
 
 Gaeta was the belle of the occasion, and before 
 she was aware of what was happening, her dancing- 
 card was full. It was in vain that she mentally 
 upbraided Veltri for his delinquency : for some un- 
 known reason he did not enter the room, but she 
 several times saw his dark face peering in at one 
 of the open windows. At first she thought he was 
 merely resting after the fatigue of the cantata ; 
 but as dance after dance went by and he remained 
 outside, she became preoccupied, and it required an 
 effort to keep her mind upon her steps. At last she 
 caught sight of her aunt Agatha, and asked to be 
 taken to her. 
 
 " I wonder if Signer Veltri is n't going to ask you 
 or me to dance," she said with a show of gayety. " I 
 would n't care if it were any one else, but he 's such 
 a divine dancer." 
 
 Agatha took the hint. " I '11 see if I can find
 
 362 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 him," she replied ; " I think your uncle and he must 
 have strolled away together." 
 
 " No ; he has been outside that window nearest the 
 door for half an hour," said Gaeta, completely ignor- 
 ing her uncle. 
 
 " Then I '11 go presently and upbraid him." 
 
 " But don't let him know that I sent you." 
 
 " No ; I '11 talk to him entirely on my own 
 account." 
 
 She went outside, but Veltri was not to be seen. 
 She was about to enter the house again, when the 
 moonlight revealed a dim figure at the other end 
 of the veranda. She went toward it, and as she 
 approached saw that it was Veltri, sitting with his 
 elbows upon his knees and his hands supporting his 
 head, a picture of utter dejection. 
 
 Hearing her footstep, he lifted a pale unhappy 
 face, and seeing who it was rose hastily. 
 
 " Why, Signer Veltri," she said, " are you not 
 going to dance ? " 
 
 " Ah, Signora," he responded wearily, " I 'm not 
 well." 
 
 She was truly alarmed, and looking into his face 
 said, " Shall I send the Marquis to you ? " 
 
 "No, Signora," he burst forth with evident emo- 
 tion ; " it is of the heart." 
 
 " Poor boy ! " and she took his arm sympatheti- 
 cally. " Tell me what the trouble is." 
 
 " No, not here, Signora ; some one may overhear. 
 Will you walk a little?" 
 
 " Yes, for a few moments." 
 
 44 Let us go and hear the tower chimes from the
 
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 363 
 
 west terrace. The townspeople have brought the 
 great Sereno from Venice to ring them in your 
 honor." 
 
 " I know it. Was n't it kind of them ! The guests 
 are all enthusiastic about his playing. Come, let us 
 go and hear him." 
 
 They crossed the lawn before the house, and walk- 
 ing its length entered the belt of wood, through which 
 they passed to the edge of the hill overlooking the 
 town of Varese, several miles distant ; and while the 
 sweet voices of the bells floated up to them upon 
 the still night air, Veltri opened his heart and poured 
 out his hopeless love for his pupil. That his love 
 must be sacrificed to the welfare of Gaeta he de- 
 clared that he knew. His decision had been taken 
 that very day, and he would not again shrink from 
 its necessary woe. 
 
 Agatha believed that her young confidant had a 
 bright future, and that the time was coming when he 
 would be a composer of acknowledged merit, the ex- 
 tent of which no one could yet measure. But above 
 and beyond all else her heart was cast strictly in the 
 softer mould, and the proposed sacrifice of Cupid upon 
 the altar of false pride moved her to pour words 
 pleasant to hear into the ear of the youth, who gladly 
 modified his stern resolve. 
 
 " Go back to Gaeta," suggested Agatha ; " I really 
 don't mind being left, and I would like to sit and 
 listen quietly to the bells for a few moments. Don't 
 say anything about my being here, and no one will 
 miss me ; now, do as I say, or you will compel me to 
 return, for I told Gaeta I should bring you."
 
 364 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 So he left her, although not without protest, and 
 as his steps died away she leaned her head against a 
 tree and yielded to the charm of the silvery serenade. 
 It seemed the fitting close to a happy day. As she 
 sat listening, the outline of two promenaders appeared 
 in the moonlight not many yards away. They did 
 not approach nearer, but stood talking in low and 
 earnest tones. She watched them listlessly, until 
 suddenly the woman's voice grew louder and Agatha 
 recognized it to be that of Mercede. As the moon- 
 light fell full upon the man's face, indifference fled, 
 and her heart beat rapidly. 
 
 The absorbed couple stood looking into each other's 
 eyes, when God help her ! Agatha saw Mercede's 
 arms encircle her companion's neck. She thought to 
 see him tear himself free and vindicate her faith in 
 him ; but, bending his head, he spoke with deep feel- 
 ing that was carried in trembling tones to the ears of 
 his stricken wife. 
 
 With a muffled moan she turned away her eyes and 
 again laid her swimming head against the tree. How 
 long she sat there she never knew; but when again 
 she turned her eyes toward the spot where her hus- 
 band had stood, there was no one in sight. 
 
 After the tableaux Filippo had gone to the ball- 
 room to lead Agatha through the first dance. This 
 finished, he devoted himself to the task of keeping 
 the floor well filled with dancers, and soon had the 
 satisfaction of feeling that his services were no longer 
 needed. He went into the ante-sala, where Mercede 
 sat, surrounded as usual by a circle of admirers.
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 365 
 
 " Are you not dancing, Mercede ? " he asked, 
 joining the group. 
 
 " No ; it 's too warm for my waning enthusiasm," 
 was her answer. " Even here it is very close. 
 Would you mind taking me into the air for a few 
 moments ? " 
 
 " I should be delighted if our friends will pardon 
 my stealing you from them." 
 
 When they found themselves upon the lawn they 
 strolled up and down, until suddenly Signer Veltri 
 passed near them. 
 
 Loreno stopped him and offered his congratulations 
 upon the excellence of his orchestra. 
 
 " You are going in to dance, I suppose," Mercede 
 remarked, eager to have him leave them. 
 
 " I was just on my way ; I 've been listening to 
 the chimes ; " and bowing pleasantly he hurried 
 toward the house, his steps quickened by the notes 
 of a favorite waltz. 
 
 " Shall we go and hear Sereno? " Filippo suggested. 
 
 " I should like nothing better ; " and off they went, 
 nearly following in the footsteps of Agatha. 
 
 " How beautiful it all is ! " Mercede exclaimed as 
 they passed through the grove glimmering with lights 
 hidden among the fern and the trembling foliage. 
 
 " It is pretty ; " and Loreno stopped to glance about 
 him at the mystic effect of the twinkling flames. 
 
 " And all in her honor ! " Mercede added. " Surely 
 Agatha should be a very proud woman to-night." 
 
 He laughed lightly. " There is but one Marchesa 
 Loreno," he said, ."and she has but one birthday a 
 year."
 
 366 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 His companion made no answer, and after waiting 
 a moment he glanced at her inquiringly. They had 
 come to the edge of the wood, and the moonlight 
 shone full into her face. To his amazement he saw 
 that her breast was heaving, and bending forward to 
 look into her eyes, found that they were filled with 
 tears. 
 
 "Why, Mercede! what is the matter?" he ex- 
 claimed, laying his hand impulsively on hers as it 
 rested upon his arm. 
 
 " It is all so beautiful, and I am so miserable ! " and 
 her voice was choked with tears. 
 
 " My dear friend, how can you speak so ! " He 
 paused and sympathetically took both her hands in 
 his. " Think what you have in your art, think what 
 you are to Agatha, and " his voice grew more earn- 
 est " and to me." 
 
 " What is my art to me ? " she answered vehe- 
 mently. " It is a stone given me when my soul 
 craves bread. And Agatha's love, what does it 
 amount to ? It is not and cannot be anything real 
 to her or to me ; we are both too proud." 
 
 " Too proud, Mercede 1 Surely you wrong her as 
 well as yourself." 
 
 " No, Filippo ; only you are a man and don't 
 understand. It is a farce, a sham, and it doesn't 
 deceive her or me. Can't you see that for the rela- 
 tion I demand to be possible, Agatha needs to be 
 different, more generous, or, if you please, nmic 
 humble ? But it 's hopeless, and I 'm the one who 
 must suffer." 
 
 " Nonsense ! " and he dropped her hands and
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 367 
 
 walked on a few steps before pausing. " You are 
 nervous to-night, and things seem distorted to you." 
 
 " Call it what you please," and coming close to 
 him she looked eagerly into his eyes ; " but the fact 
 remains that you and she have each other and I am 
 alone. Agatha is your wife, and I am practically 
 nothing to you, nothing in comparison to what I 
 would be." 
 
 Her voice trembled with the power of her surging 
 passion as she continued, "Do you not know that I 
 must pant and thirst for love, like other women, 
 love in which I am all in all to some one ? My very 
 soul, parched and dying for love, cries out for it ! " she 
 covered her face with her hands, as with broken 
 voice she added, " and to the end of my wretched 
 life I suppose it must be unsatisfied." 
 
 With the final words her self-control left her, and 
 she sobbed bitterly. 
 
 He hesitated an instant, and then gently taking her 
 hands from her face, he said with an intensity that 
 thrilled her, 
 
 " Don't cry so, Mercede ; is my friendship nothing 
 to you ? " 
 
 She turned her wet eyes up to his and stood 
 silent, struggling to stay the convulsive sobs that 
 defied her, until presently the cry of her heart broke 
 from her quivering lips, and her voice vibrated with 
 fervor. 
 
 " Your friendship, Filippo ! It is the bread of my 
 soul." Then creeping closer she clasped his hands 
 firmly, and added in a voice eloquent with tears, "How 
 should I live without it? But, Filippo, my Filippo !
 
 368 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 why do you not sometimes tell me of it ? Not that 
 I doubt it, but I yearn for its visible token. You 
 sometimes seem to read my very thoughts, you, 
 my perfect friend, my other self. If I am indeed 
 to you what I believe, give me sign of it ! Don't 
 you realize my need, dearest? Do you never feel 
 what it is to live forever upon hope? Give me a 
 token, Filippo ; to-night, if never again, give me a 
 token ! " 
 
 "She stretched out her trembling hands and gazed 
 at him wistfully. Then suddenly the last vestige of 
 self-restraint seemed overborne, and with a broken 
 sob she flung her arms around his neck and sobbed 
 upon his breast. 
 
 Without asking wherefore, without pausing an 
 instant, he impulsively folded his arms about her. 
 It may have been passion, it may have been only 
 impulsive sympathy, but he clasped her in his 
 arms, and with bated breath spoke words of com- 
 fort to her. 
 
 As she conquered her emotion he gently disen- 
 gaged her arms. 
 
 " Come, Mercede, be yourself ! " he said. " We 
 should go back, for I must not stay any longer. I 
 will wet my handkerchief at the spring, and you can 
 bathe your eyes." 
 
 She looked up and smiled happily ; but sober sec- 
 ond thought had come, and his face was grave. 
 
 " That 's more like your old self," he said. " Let 
 us be going." 
 
 She drew her head up proudly and dashed the 
 tears from her eyes.
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 369 
 
 " Very well, I am ready ! " and her tone was bitter, 
 " ready to go back and dance." 
 
 With white face and glowing eyes Agatha moved 
 among her guests, doing her duty as a hostess. 
 Filippo had spoken to her but once since his re- 
 turn to the house. 
 
 " You must pardon me, Agatha," he had said, 
 "but I entirely forgot our waltz. I went out for 
 a breath of air, and the fact is that " But turn- 
 ing her eyes full upon his, and without a word, she 
 walked away and left him. 
 
 " Oh, very well ! " he thought, turning on his heel, 
 and annoyed that she should take such a trifle to 
 heart. Therefore during the rest of the evening he 
 avoided speaking to her. 
 
 At last the guests were all gone, and Filippo and 
 his visitors were upon the veranda chatting about the 
 events of the evening, when Agatha came out of the 
 house and joined them. 
 
 " No, thanks," she said, as several chairs were 
 offered her. " I won't stay. I 've only come to bid 
 you all good-night." 
 
 "Why, Agatha, what's the matter?" exclaimed 
 the Duchess. "You are trembling from head to foot. 
 Are you ill ? " 
 
 "Not in the least," and she tried to smile. "I'm a 
 little over-tired. I '11 go to my room." 
 
 " Take my arm," Filippo said, springing to her 
 side. 
 
 " Thank you,- 1 don't need it ; " and she turned 
 and walked unsteadily toward the door. 
 
 24
 
 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " I insist ! " he said, following her. 
 
 But without reply she sank into a chair, and as her 
 husband bent over her the failing nerve gave way 
 and consciousness fled. 
 
 A little later Loreno brought news to the awaiting 
 group that his wife was conscious, and resting quietly. 
 She had asked that no one should speak to her, and 
 had forbidden him to send for the doctor. 
 
 " She has certainly overtaxed her strength," sug- 
 gested the General. 
 
 "I fear," Veltri added, "that I am greatly to blame. 
 I took the Marchesa to the west terrace to hear the 
 chimes, and she persuaded me to leave her there ; she 
 had no shawl, and when she came back I saw that 
 she was shivering ; but later she seemed quite herself 
 again." 
 
 Two pairs of eyes turned eagerly toward the young 
 musician. 
 
 " When was this ? " demanded Loreno. 
 
 " When I met you and Madame AndreV' 
 
 " And where did you leave my wife ? " 
 
 " On the terrace near the spring." 
 
 It was Mercede's voice which broke the silence. 
 
 "It was very imprudent of her," were the words 
 she uttered. 
 
 " If the Signora is ill I shall never forgive myself," 
 Veltri answered sadly. 
 
 Loreno started to his feet and strode down the 
 steps. After a few turns upon the lawn he returned, 
 and bidding his friends good-night went to his wife's 
 room. 
 
 Agatha was lying with closed eyes, and he listened
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 371 
 
 to learn if she were asleep. His sister, who was sit- 
 ting by the bed, rose and took him aside. 
 
 " Have you sent for the doctor ? " she asked. 
 
 " No ; she forbade it." 
 
 " Perhaps it 's as well ; perfect quiet is what she 
 needs." 
 
 " I wish I might speak a word to her." 
 
 The Duchess paused to consider, and a flood of 
 light fell upon the affair. 
 
 "Not to-night," she said ; "it might do much harm, 
 no matter what it is. Wait until to-morrow." 
 
 He stole back softly and stood beside the bed, look- 
 ing at the pale cheeks and at the sensitive lips that 
 did not unclose to him. Then he turned away with 
 a sigh and went toward his dressing-room. 
 
 As he passed a table upon which a night-light was 
 burning, his eye caught sight of the illumined face of 
 the Sistine Madonna, and as he recalled the tender 
 words he had inscribed upon the picture, he hastened 
 with flushed cheeks to his own room, and dropping 
 into a chair buried his face in his hands. The strain 
 of contending emotions regarding Agatha and Mer- 
 cede had pulled him forward and backward until 
 sometimes the sudden and keen realization of the 
 fact caused him to smite his brow in shame. A 
 man does not become a drunkard in a day, nor with- 
 out moments of remorse and repulsion and ineffect- 
 ual struggling. And it was so with Loreno. He 
 had had periods of bitter self-condemnation which 
 resulted in reaction, and sometimes even in a deter- 
 mination to free himself from his thraldom to Mer- 
 cede. At such times he would stimulate his affection
 
 372 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 for Agatha in every way possible, straining every 
 nerve to persuade himself that he was still honest in 
 his attitude toward her, and that his feeling for Mer- 
 cede was only of a platonic nature. But the effort 
 was spasmodic, and after a sharp struggle faded 
 under the spell of Madame Andrews fascination. She 
 had used her power so skilfully that she had ever 
 grown more confident and more aggressive, and he 
 now made scarcely a pretence of opposing her wishes, 
 while her companionship and her smiles seemed to 
 constitute his chief happiness. Yet to have actu- 
 ally caressed her startled him from his lethargy. He 
 attempted no justification, and the fact that Agatha 
 had seen him added nothing to his disgrace. But 
 his heart ached as he thought of his wife's stricken 
 heart, and he despised himself. Yet he laid no blame 
 upon Mercede. He was not the sort of man to shelter 
 himself behind a woman. On the contrary, he palli- 
 ated Mercede's transgression by recalling the story of 
 her loneliness, and the unusual excitement which had 
 moved her. His mind was in a state of chaos, and he 
 knew not what to do. Although feeling that he had 
 shattered his wife's pure faith, he was forced to admit 
 that he found a certain consolation in the knowledge 
 of Mercede's love. Incredible as it seemed, he felt 
 this to be true. Great God ! had it indeed gone so 
 far? He tried to believe that he was self-deceived; 
 but ponder as he would upon the hideousness of the 
 fact, he still felt a sense of consolation in Mercede's 
 ardent love. All that was evil in him arose and 
 arrayed- itself against all that was good. Nor did the 
 passing hours bring certainty or peace. He did not
 
 A WOMAN'S PASSION. 373 
 
 indeed dream of actually disgracing his name and 
 that of the sweet woman who bore it with becoming 
 honor, nor did he forget his beloved children ; but, 
 on the other hand, he felt that he could not sever 
 his relation with Mercede. He had not suspected 
 until now the depth of his regard for her; but it 
 stood revealed, and he could not deny its power. 
 Accepting the fact, he felt that he must have oppor- 
 tunity to think. What the outcome would be he 
 could not yet decide. Time alone could guide him. 
 Time was essential. Then there came to his mind 
 an offer from the Prime Minister, which had been 
 submitted to him a few days before, to intrust to him 
 a special mission to Berlin. He had already dis- 
 cussed the matter with Agatha, who had favored his 
 going, as it seemed both an honor and a duty; but 
 for some reason, which now he knew to be unwill- 
 ingness to separate himself from Mercede, he had 
 not yet consented to undertake the diplomatic task. 
 It would afford him an excuse for absenting himself 
 from home. It was, he thought, just the thing for 
 his purpose. He would go to Berlin.
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE. 
 
 MEECEDE felt that further effort to hide the strug- 
 gle between Agatha and herself would be useless. 
 Agatha had undoubtedly witnessed the interview 
 on the west terrace, and there was no choice of 
 action left. Filippo must choose between Agatha 
 and her ; Agatha would insist upon this, if she did 
 not. Therefore it were better for her to take the 
 initiative, and leaving Varese in the morning, go to 
 Rome and await Filippo's decision. She did not 
 doubt Loreno's love for her, in spite of the manner 
 in which he had cut short their tete-a-tete. That 
 was a remnant of his hide-bound conventionality ; it 
 was a last attempt to resist the force of his human 
 nature. No matter who claimed him now, his heart, 
 she told herself, was hers ; and sooner or later a man 
 will follow his inclination, bending everything to con- 
 form to it. 
 
 She packed up her things as well as she could, and 
 went downstairs early, in the hope of seeing Filippo ; 
 nor was she disappointed. He was evidently expect- 
 ing her. 
 
 "I'm going to Milan this morning, and to Rome 
 to-night," she announced, after they had greeted 
 each other.
 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE. 375 
 
 " I hope you will reconsider your resolve." 
 
 "You do?" 
 
 " Certainly. Our walk, Agatha's sudden illness, 
 followed by your hasty departure cannot you see 
 how it will excite remark ? " 
 
 "But I must also consider'my own dignity, and I 
 prefer not to remain." 
 
 " No doubt ; but are you not willing to sacri- 
 fice something personal for the sake of all three 
 of us ? " 
 
 " I prefer to go, that 's one ; Agatha would prefer 
 to have me go, that 's two ; and would you not be 
 governed by our wishes ? " 
 
 " No, Mercede," he said firmly, " you ought not 
 and must not go to-day. It will be hard, very hard 
 ior all of us, but you must stay and bear your part. 
 If Agatha is better this morning, you can perhaps 
 make your work an excuse for leaving to-morrow or 
 the day following ; but not to-day." 
 
 She was silent for a moment, her eyes half closed. 
 " As you ask it, I will remain," she said ; " but it is 
 to please you that I stay, and not through fear of the 
 rest of them. I wish, Filippo, that you could eman- 
 cipate yourself from such respect for the world's 
 opinion. Why should you regard such an unequal 
 bargain? The world gives you nothing in return 
 for your sacrifices. It is not a friend who glorifies 
 your merits and excuses your shortcomings ; it is 
 an enemy searching for your unguarded point, it 
 strives to strike your heel, not your breastplate. If 
 you really fear the shafts of the world, pray don't go 
 into battle, but remain in the ranks of its courtiers,
 
 376 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 craving its sneering favor and seeking safety through 
 its royal compassion. I don't believe it will avail 
 you anything ; but it may, and I don't wish to lead 
 you into danger." 
 
 He tossed his head impatiently. " How you rush 
 on ! " he said ; " can you really see no difference be- 
 tween cowardice and bravado ? It is beneath me to 
 defend myself from such a charge as yours ; but in 
 my opinion it requires more courage to stay here to- 
 day than to run away." 
 
 She saw that she had gone too far, and the all- 
 absorbing desire of her life was to be in sympathy 
 with him. No courtier of the world could have ex- 
 ceeded in sleepless vigilance the regard she paid to 
 his favor. She was his serf, his helot. This was not 
 the first time she had curbed her impetuosity at his 
 bidding. It was her indefinite idea of duty, and in 
 yielding to him thus, she felt that she both honored 
 him and drew nearer to him. Not without the 
 womanly instinct to acknowledge a master, she was 
 willing in this thing to be like other women or at 
 least to try the experiment. 
 
 "Very well, Filippo," and her manner was most 
 exemplary ; " if you think so, I am contented to follow 
 your guidance. But if possible, I should like to get 
 away to-morrow." 
 
 " I also may go in a day or so," he said ; " I have 
 been considering a special mission to Berlin offered 
 me a few days ago, and now I am greatly tempted to 
 undertake it." 
 
 Her eyes shone with pleasure. "How delightful! " 
 she exclaimed. " We could go together and pass
 
 .-1 WOMAX'S LOVE. 377 
 
 a few days in Rome before you start. How long 
 would you be in Berlin ? " 
 
 " It is impossible to tell ; perhaps a month." 
 
 " And then you would return to Rome to re- 
 port?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 She saw her opportunity for testing him. Agatha 
 would wish him not to go. 
 
 " I hope you will accept the mission," she said. 
 
 " I shall consult with Agatha, and decide during 
 the day." 
 
 "I hope you will accept," she repeated impres- 
 sively. 
 
 Loreno dreaded to meet his wife. He pictured to 
 himself her face, which would be white and reproach- 
 ful ; and her manner, which would be cold and scorn- 
 ful. Yet it must be gone through with unless a 
 break in their relations were openly acknowledged ; 
 so he hovered about the house all the morning, 
 waiting to hear that she would receive him. The 
 Duchess was with her, and remained until luncheon, 
 when she reported that Agatha seemed quite herself, 
 and was dressing. 
 
 After luncheon Filippo joined his sister, and they 
 walked away together across the lawn. 
 
 " I think of going to Berlin in a day or two," he 
 said ; " could n't you arrange to stay with Agatha, 
 for a time at least ? " 
 
 " How long will you be away ? " 
 
 " Probably a month." 
 
 " Shall you ga whether I stay or not ? " 
 
 "Yes."
 
 378 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Then I '11 stay." 
 
 There was something so abrupt in her acceptance, 
 without regard to her other summer arrangements, 
 and without waiting to consult her husband, that he 
 looked at her with surprise. 
 
 " You had better consider the matter a little before 
 deciding," he suggested. 
 
 " No ; I '11 remain." 
 
 " Thank you." 
 
 " Don't thank me" she replied ; " thank Madame 
 AndreV' 
 
 " What has she to do with it ? " 
 
 " She has made it impossible for you to remain, 
 and therefore necessary that I should." 
 
 "I think we had better leave Madame Andre" s name 
 out of the matter ; " and his manner was formal. 
 
 " She and you, between you, have made that 
 difficult." 
 
 He turned rapidly. " What do you mean ? " he 
 demanded. " Has Agatha said anything to you ? " 
 
 " No ; words were not needed to tell this sad 
 affair." 
 
 He tried to look defiantly at her, but could not. 
 
 " Filippo dear boy ! " and her eyes grew soft as 
 she regarded him, " do you realize what you are 
 doing? Knot " 
 
 "I really don't wish advice," he interrupted. 
 
 " I cannot help that. If you don't realize your 
 position, it 's my duty to point it out ; if you do, then 
 it 's my duty to protest." 
 
 " I fail to see this as you do, therefore oblige me 
 by dropping the subject."
 
 A WOMAWS LOVE. 379 
 
 " Drop the subject, Filippo ! " she echoed. " I, 
 my father's daughter, not protest when I see the 
 Marquis Loreno trifling with the name he at present 
 represents ! Drop the protest of a wife and a woman 
 in behalf of one who cannot protest ! " 
 
 " 4 Cannot ' ?" and he smiled dubiously. " On the 
 contrary, I believe she will, and that strongly." 
 
 " Then you do not know Agatha as well as I do ; 
 but as for that, I am confident that you do not. 
 Otherwise how could you slight even dishonor her 
 for the sake of a woman whose whole " 
 
 " Pardon me," he exclaimed sternly, " I forbid any 
 discourtesy of speech concerning Madame Andre'. " 
 
 " Oh ! " and the fine features denoted infinite 
 scorn. " Then in the name of your wife, in whose 
 behalf I spoke, let me crave Madame Andre"s pardon 
 and yours." 
 
 His dark face flushed deeply and his fingers played 
 nervously against the palms of his hands. " I will 
 not deny," he said with a sincere effort to control 
 himself, " that I have acted wrongly, even disgrace- 
 fully ; so blame me as bitterly as you please, but keep 
 the name of Madame Andre* out of it. She is not to 
 blame." 
 
 " That may be manly, or heroic, or anything you 
 choose to call it, but it's not the truth ! That 
 woman is as much to blame as you are, and that 's 
 saying a great deal. But let us keep her name out 
 of it, if it pleases you to do so. Of one thing, how- 
 ever, be assured : you are being terribly deceived ; 
 whether self-deceived or not does n't much matter. 
 Let me tell you that the crisis has come, and you
 
 380 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 must now decide whether, in plain words, you will 
 sacrifice the happiness of your wife and your chil- 
 dren not to mention the respect of your friends 
 and of your sister to an indefensible and self- 
 ish passion. I grieve for you to-day, Filippo, and 
 long to help you ; but if you deliberately choose 
 selfish shame to honor, I shall learn to despise 
 
 you." 
 
 He drew a quick breath, and the intuitive closing 
 of his eyes showed how squarely the blow had struck 
 him. 
 
 " That is strong language," he said. 
 
 " Is it unjust ? " 
 
 He turned away, and stood looking at a distant 
 point where the blue sky met the undulating line of 
 the mountains. " No," he said after a long silence, 
 " no ; I only wonder that you don't despise me 
 already." 
 
 The great love she bore him welled into her eyes, 
 and she went nearer to him. 
 
 " Filippo dear," she said with mellow voice, " it is 
 not for me to praise Agatha : such a noble nature 
 as hers it is difficult to praise. I can admire and 
 describe Agatha's beauty, as I admire and praise a 
 lovely work of art ; but her character defies descrip- 
 tion, for it is as marvellous to me as the depth and 
 color of that sky above us. When to such loveliness 
 you prefer the dazzle of a gaming-table, do you. 
 wonder that I tremble for you ? Perhaps, after all, 
 it may be well for you to go away a little while, 
 to learn what a false, unhealthy condition of mind 
 yours is."
 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE. 381 
 
 They were silent for a few moments. " If that 
 is all you wish to say to me," he said, breaking the 
 silence, " I will go back and speak with Agatha. If 
 she objects seriously I will promise not to go away ; 
 otherwise I think an absence of a few weeks will be 
 wise." 
 
 " Very well," she replied ; then taking his hand 
 she added earnestly, " Filippo, you 've been terribly 
 weak, but I can't believe that you are false-hearted." 
 
 He walked rapidly away and went directly to 
 Agatha's boudoir, but to his surprise heard that she 
 had taken her hat and gone for a walk. He longed 
 for the dreaded interview to be over, and chafed at 
 the delay ; but since she had gone off alone he would 
 not follow her. Throwing himself upon the sofa he 
 gave himself up to gloomy thoughts as he awaited 
 her return. 
 
 At last he heard her footstep, and as she turned 
 the handle of the door he arose and went toward her. 
 On catching sight of him she paused involuntarily, 
 and then smiling said, 
 
 " Oh, is it you, dear ? The room seems dark after 
 being in the bright sunlight." 
 
 This was quite different from what he had ex- 
 pected. 
 
 " Yes. I 'm glad to hear that you are better this 
 morning." 
 
 " I 've been having a stroll with Padre Sacconi and 
 Mr. Dow. We went down to the pond and saw the 
 children testing the canoe Mr. Dow gave them. It 
 glides beautifully and very swiftly." 
 
 " I must try and see it before I go." She looked
 
 382 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 tip with a startled face, and he hastened to add, 
 " I 'm quite in favor of going to Berlin, and came to 
 talk with you about it." 
 
 Her courage wavered for a moment, and the im- 
 pulse to beg him not to leave her at this terrible 
 time was almost irresistible ; but she conquered the 
 temptation. 
 
 "You are the best judge," she said, " for you know 
 whether the possible advantages will reward you for 
 the fatigue and discomfort." He had resumed his 
 seat upon the small sofa, and having taken off her 
 hat she came and seated herself beside him. " Still," 
 she continued, " we shall all miss you dreadfully ; so 
 I don't suppose I 'm quite impartial." 
 
 " I 've thought it over, and have decided that I 
 had better go. But," he added hastily, " if you 
 object, I am willing to give it up." 
 
 Her heart beat more quickly and her eyes bright- 
 ened, but her face was in shadow, and he could not 
 see the effect of his declaration. 
 
 " Oh, thank you," she replied warmly; " but if it 's 
 to your advantage to go, of course I don't object. 
 You would be away about a month ? " 
 
 " Yes, if I go." 
 
 " Of course, dear, a month seems a long time ; but 
 the same reason that makes me miss you would be 
 my reason for urging you to go." 
 
 " And what may that be ? " he inquired most 
 practically. 
 
 She leaned toward him a little and laid her hand 
 upon his, " Because I love you," she said, looking 
 at him with unutterable feeling.
 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE. 383 
 
 He started. The interview was actually becoming 
 more painful than he had expected. Could he be 
 mistaken ? Was her illness, after all, only the result 
 of fatigue? 
 
 Her eager eyes dwelt upon his lovingly, longingly. 
 He looked into their blue depths, and the impulse 
 seized him to kneel at her feet and crave her forgive- 
 ness; but he hesitated, then wavered then the 
 feeling subsided and was gone. 
 
 " Since you really don't object, I think I '11 start 
 on Thursday," he said. 
 
 " So soon ! " and her voice trembled. 
 
 " Yes ; I must go to Rome to report, and I 've de- 
 layed already longer than I should have done." 
 
 " To Rome ! " 
 
 He caught the words, and his face grew darker. 
 She had evidently heard of Mercede's intention. 
 
 ". I shall have to go there for a day or two to 
 receive instructions." 
 
 A day or two ! Ah, what might not their result 
 be just at this time, with Mercede at hand employing 
 the whole power of her charm to tear away the 
 already strained bonds which bound him to his own ? 
 Agatha grew pallid and faint with the crushing pain 
 that encircled her heart. But her guardian angel, 
 or whatever that beneficent force may be which 
 sometimes rescues us from sudden peril, revived her 
 staggering will and upheld her in her great purpose. 
 If she abandoned her faith in the inherent power of 
 her husband's better nature ultimately to arise and 
 control him, if she' abandoned her silent appeal to his 
 higher qualities, then her battle in behalf of herself
 
 384 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 and her children was hopelessly lost. This conviction 
 possessed her; she felt it, she knew it, and her pur- 
 pose and faith grew strong again. She found herself 
 pacing the floor, and going behind him she put her 
 arms around his neck and laid her cheek against his 
 head. 
 
 44 My darling," and her voice was low, " wherever 
 you are, you are mine, and God will guard you for 
 me." 
 
 He bowed his head, nor could he have spoken had 
 he not been dumb with shame. 
 
 Through the hours of the past night Agatha had 
 lain motionless, seeming only to have power to suf- 
 fer. She did not think, she only felt : the actual 
 present alone stood out before her, without past or 
 future. 
 
 " Take me, oh God, take me ! " was the constant 
 reiteration of her soul. The union which had made 
 her life blessed, which she had believed would even 
 reach into eternity, was, after all, but a creation of 
 her own mind. 
 
 Stricken, benumbed, she lay, till a sound from 
 Sebastiiino, in the next room, roused her. Raising 
 herself in bed she looked at Teresa, who lay in a orii> 
 beside her. Then despair past control overwhelmed 
 her, and springing from her bed she flew to the room 
 of her little son and threw herself upon her knees be- 
 side him. She longed to lay her cheek against his, 
 to take his hand, to feel the warmth of his hum;m na- 
 ture, the beating of the little heart that loved her and 
 was loyal to her; and her eager eyes dwelt yearningly 
 upon him.
 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE. 385 
 
 " Oh, my little boy, our boy ! " she murmured softly; 
 and stretching her arms out into the blackness, her 
 anguish found utterance that must have pierced to 
 the heart of the Almighty. 
 
 " Have mercy ! have mercy! " she sobbed. " Thou 
 worker of miracles, give me back my husband ! " 
 
 Sinking to the floor, she leaned her head against 
 the bed. Thus she sat until the morning light began 
 to creep in at the window, and gradually her mind 
 grew calmer. 
 
 Returning to her room, she threw a warm wrapper 
 about her and went to her boudoir. The blinds were 
 up, and the sight that met her eyes was one of radiant 
 beauty ; she drew to the window an arm-chair, and 
 leaning back in it watched the rising of the sun and 
 tried to think. 
 
 The shock of last night had subjected her faith in 
 her husband to a supreme test. " Yet," she reasoned, 
 " the measure of faith is not in the hour of enthu- 
 siasm, but of despair." Little by little she was able 
 to consider the question of continued faith with 
 toleration if not with confidence, and at last, her 
 mind having become much calmer, she went back 
 to her room and soon fell into a deep, dreamless 
 sleep. 
 
 When she awoke, the morning was nearly gone. 
 She rang for her maid, and the Duchess, who also 
 came to her, seemed amazed at her patient's an- 
 nouncement that she was feeling very well, and 
 intended to dress after drinking her coffee. 
 
 Agatha felt, in- spite of her brave announce- 
 ment, that she would be glad of a further respite 
 
 25
 
 386 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 before meeting Mercede ; and when the others 
 were at luncheon she went downstairs and made 
 her way to the grove, where she threw herself upon 
 a bank and reviewed the all-absorbing subject. 
 
 " I must force myself," she said, " to act as though 
 I had seen nothing. Damning as it was, I will have 
 faith, not in what I saw, but in what I feel ; if I am 
 wise, and true to my convictions, Filippo will come 
 back to me. This very act of faith may hasten the 
 happy hour, who knows?" 
 
 She sat motionless for some time, and then added 
 mentally, " My part is to keep the conditions as fa- 
 vorable as possible ; to keep the light burning, and 
 to await patiently the time when Filippo's true 
 nature, challenged by my faith, shall bring him back 
 to me." 
 
 She heard the voices of Francesco and Sebas- 
 tiano, who were coming across the lawn, and rising 
 quickly hastened toward them. Padre Sacconi was 
 with them, and Mr. Dow was coming down the 
 veranda steps. Farther to the left, near the green- 
 houses, she caught sight of Mercede and Filippo 
 standing together, and as Padre Sacconi extended 
 his hand tenderly, he remarked upon her unusual 
 whiteness, and urged her not again to overtax her 
 strength. 
 
 Mercede managed to avoid meeting Agatha until 
 late in the day, by going for a long drive with Mr. 
 Dow, who, to her surprise, had given her the invita- 
 tion at luncheon. Indeed, it seemed a day of mys- 
 terious tete-a-tetes ; for just as Agatha was settled 
 in an arm-chair on the veranda with the Duke as a
 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE. 387 
 
 companion, Yeltri joined them, and after expressing 
 his delight at seeing her so well again, asked the 
 Duke if he might have a few words with him, where- 
 upon the two gentlemen walked into the house. An 
 hour later the Duke and Gaeta left the house to- 
 gether, and crossing the lawn, disappeared among 
 the trees. 
 
 When Loreno arrived in Rome, he went to his own 
 apartment to breakfast. 
 
 He was at a loss to account for Agatha's con- 
 duct under circumstances her knowledge of which 
 he no longer doubted. Even to the last she had 
 given no sign of resentment, but had been both 
 natural and lovely of manner. Indeed, he did not 
 know how she could have been more tender with 
 him, or more solicitous concerning his comfort 
 during his absence. She had superintended the 
 packing of his valise, and included among his ef- 
 fects various little vials containing medicines for 
 such sudden illnesses as might overtake him ; she 
 had with her own hands done some little mending 
 that was needed; she had filled his flask and his 
 cigar-case, in short, done everything she could. 
 There must be some good reason which led her to 
 ignore the evidence of her eyes. He knew that in 
 such a crisis any woman, and especially a woman 
 so thoughtful as Agatha, must realize the impor- 
 tance of the moment, and conduct herself in ac- 
 cordance with some settled purpose, be that purpose 
 dictated b}' passion or by wisdom. It would not 
 do, therefore, to brush aside patient striving after
 
 388 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 her reason, with an indolent theory, and for the 
 past two days his mind had been absorbed in search- 
 ing for a satisfactory explanation of her unexpected 
 attitude. As a result to his ardent endeavor, he 
 found himself always driven back to one and the 
 same theory : he was simply forced to believe that 
 it was the result of implicit faith. Yes, there was 
 no doubt that Agatha still had faith in him ; nor 
 was it blind faith, for she had given ample though 
 involuntary evidence of the terrible shock of her 
 awakening. Why, then, did she still believe in him ? 
 It was extraordinary. 
 
 Although Mercede was by no means banished from 
 his thoughts, he recognized the fact that the an- 
 ticipation of seeing her was less active, less eager, 
 than it had been for months. His mind reverted 
 constantly to Agatha, and when he found himself 
 reviewing with careful minuteness the events con- 
 nected with his relations toward Mercede, it was 
 only as bearing upon the conduct of his wife. He 
 wondered that she had not noted until now how 
 close his intimacy with her cousin had become. But 
 had she not noted it? His mere opinion was not evi- 
 dence. Then he recalled the unveiling of the Tristan 
 and Isolde, the first ride she had taken with Mercede 
 and himself, and a dozen other indications of her 
 knowledge, to which only his own selfishness had 
 blinded him. 
 
 Indeed, had not all Rome talked of this intimacy? 
 Even Veltri, while a guest in his house, had plainly 
 protested against it ; and last of all, Costanza had 
 upbraided him for it It were childish then to doubt
 
 A WOMAN S LOVE. 389 
 
 the equal perception of her whose happiness and 
 honor were at stake. 
 
 Thus it was that after hours of intense retrospec- 
 tion, both day and night, a rift was made in the cloud 
 that enveloped his mind, that a bright shaft of 
 sunlight pierced its darkness and fell upon the golden 
 thread of his wife's faith. As it was illumined, he 
 saw it from end to end, and cursed his incredible 
 selfishness. 
 
 Yet Mercede came in for no part of his censure. 
 Even now he palliated whatever he could not justify 
 in her conduct, both on the ground of her strong 
 humanity and because of that mysterious personality 
 ascribed to genius, to which general opinion permits 
 uncommon license. In spite of everything, as he 
 thought of Mercede his heart beat rapidly. Her 
 mind was so fresh, her spirit so unflagging she 
 stimulated him. While Agatha was a devoted wife, 
 a wise mother, a lovely and unselfish woman, Mer- 
 cede's nature was drawn in bolder lines, and should 
 occasion demand she would rise, no doubt, to the 
 plane of absolute hefoism. Could Agatha, for ex- 
 ample, have faced misfortune as Mercede had faced 
 it? Did she possess the necessary force of character ? 
 Tenderness and devotion in a woman were much, but 
 not everything. 
 
 Yet he must admit that in her present trial his wife 
 was displaying an unostentatious strength that sur- 
 prised him. Her self-restraint was wonderful. He 
 doubted if Mercede herself could have rivalled her 
 in this respect. His mind, now bent upon compari- 
 son, was permitted full license ; he began to search
 
 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 honestly for the truth. What result, he asked him- 
 self at last, had come from the stimulus which he 
 claimed for Mercede's companionship? It stimulated 
 him certainly, but did it actually strengthen him ? 
 Had it direction? Where did it lead him? What 
 had it really done for him ? He pondered these 
 questions for hours, with increasing perception of 
 the truth. On the other hand, was Agatha's influ- 
 ence equally without worthy product? Was she not, 
 indeed, an active force for good in his life ? Would 
 his interests have been the same had her interests 
 been more conventional ? More conventional ! He 
 was struck by the word. He had hitherto regarded 
 Mercede as unconventional, and admired the charac- 
 teristic ; yet surely the same was true of his wife. 
 She also was unconventional, although in a different 
 way. Even in this affair she had been unconven- 
 tional in the highest sense, and as his mind reverted 
 again to that faith which nothing could shake, he 
 asked himself, what could account for it ? 
 
 Then, as he realized the full significance of his 
 wonder, his eyes closed with pain. Was he indeed 
 so unworthy of a pure trust? He could not deny 
 the truth, and buried his face in his hands, over- 
 whelmed by the weight of his shame. Little by 
 little, amid black anguish, his thoughts centred upon 
 the one vital fact, Agatha 1 s faith. Unswerving in 
 the face of long-accruing and absolute proof, un- 
 daunted by even the evidence of the senses, that 
 faith brought consciousness to his benumbed spirit ; 
 it aroused hope. He pondered upon it, not alone 
 with increasing wonder, but with deep gratitude.
 
 A WOMAN'S LOVE, 391 
 
 He dwelt upon it far into the afternoon, his mind 
 groping nearer and nearer the light, until, at last, his 
 feeling found vent in glowing enthusiasm. 
 
 " That is the sort of thing that both stimulates and 
 strengthens a man," he exclaimed half aloud. " It 's 
 splendid ! It 's superb ! By God, it 's heroic ! "
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 
 
 WITH the exception of the Duchess, Mr. Dow 
 and Signer Veltri were the only guests remaining 
 at the Villa Loreno, and they were to start in the 
 afternoon for Stresa. They were seated in an ar- 
 bor a little distance from the house, talking in 
 low tones, when suddenly Agatha appeared before 
 them. 
 
 Her face told them that her news was bad. 
 
 " I 'm very sorry," she began, " but I must ask you 
 to go as soon as possible." 
 
 " Has it broken out in town ? " asked Mr. Dow. 
 
 " Yes, worse ; two of our tenants have just been 
 stricken down, and the doctor says it is undoubtedly 
 cholera." 
 
 " And you and the children ; where do you go ? " 
 
 " The Duchess will take the children immediately, 
 within an hour, to Erba." 
 
 "And you?" 
 
 " I must remain," she answered quietly. ^* I am 
 needed here, if only to give the people courage." 
 
 " But, Marchesa," protested Veltri, " surely you 
 will not risk your precious life so needlessly ! " 
 
 " I do not consider the risk to be needless."
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 393 
 
 " But what real good can you do ? " 
 
 " I can be useful in many ways which I cannot stop 
 to explain, for I must hurry back to the children ; I 
 expect a cordon to be put round the place at any 
 moment ; " and she turned away. 
 
 "Then you are determined, Marchesa?" called 
 Veltri. 
 
 " Quite," she replied without stopping. 
 
 The two men sat silent for a moment. 
 
 " I don't like the idea of leaving her here alone," 
 suggested Mr. Dow. 
 
 " I intend to remain," was the answer. 
 
 "You do?" 
 
 " Certainly." 
 
 " I 'm willing to stay also." 
 
 " That won't be necessary, for the Marquis will 
 of course return. I, who owe everything I am to 
 them, am more than happy at this chance to serve 
 them. You have neither this reason nor the one of 
 being needed." 
 
 " Then I '11 see the Duchess safe at Erba and stay 
 at the inn, and you must telegraph me every day 
 how the Marchesa is and how you are ; and I'll see 
 that the news is taken straight to the Villa Faviola. 
 If you fail to send word on any day, we shall know 
 that you are ill, and in that case I'll come and look 
 after you." 
 
 Veltri grasped the honest hand warmly. 
 
 " Thank you," he said ; " but don't think of doing 
 such an imprudent thing. Your coming could n't 
 help me." 
 
 " But it might comfort Gaeta."
 
 394 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 They stood looking into each other's eyes for a 
 moment. 
 
 " Very well, then let it be so," said Veltri. 
 
 " And I '11 answer your telegrams every day, and 
 give you our news." 
 
 The only answer was a grateful pressure of the 
 hand. 
 
 " And now I 'm off, for I must speak a word to the 
 Marchesa ; " and they hurried toward the house. 
 
 Mercede sat in her studio holding a chisel in her 
 hand, but the hand had fallen to her side listlessly, 
 and her eyes were fixed upon the floor. Try as she 
 would, she could not work to-day. Her thoughts 
 were engrossed with Filippo. And so it had been 
 since morning. She could not concentrate her mind 
 upon anything except his sudden change of manner. 
 It chilled her ; it did more, it almost crushed her. In 
 the first place, he had arrived in town the previous 
 morning and had not come to her for nearly twenty- 
 four hours. His excuse was the engrossing nature of 
 the mission he had undertaken. Surely he could have 
 spared her an hour, if only in the evening ; and when 
 she chided him, although slightly, he grew silent and 
 at first her pride was touched. But when her heart 
 cried out and she began impulsively to tell him how 
 she had longed to see him and how unkind he had 
 been, he seemed unresponsive, and an ominous fear 
 seized her and forbade her pressing him further. 
 
 In reply to her inquiry concerning Agatha's health 
 he had answered somewhat formally, and then ab- 
 ruptly changed the subject. At the end of half an
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 395 
 
 hour, during which his manner was strangely con- 
 strained, he arose, and said he must be going, plead- 
 ing an engagement with the Prime Minister. She 
 urged him as warmly as she dared to remain longer, 
 but without success. What did it mean ? Still, she 
 flattered her troubled heart with the fact that he had 
 promised to drink tea with her at five o'clock. Yet, 
 when she had suggested that he should dine with her 
 at seven, and that afterwards they might walk out to 
 the Janiculum in the moonlight and hear the city 
 bells from the plateau of San-Pietro in Montorio, his 
 brow contracted, as he replied that he feared the 
 walk would be a little long, and that the effect would 
 be dearly bought. ^Yhat did it mean ? 
 
 Rising restlessly, she went out upon the lawn and 
 walked up and down a few times in front of the stu- 
 dio. Presently, when passing one of the open win- 
 dows of a large room in which several men were 
 usually at work, she missed the sound of their mallets 
 and glanced in curiously. The men were gathered 
 in a group, one of them holding a newspaper from 
 which he was reading aloud. She was surprised 
 and somewhat annoyed at this dereliction of duty, 
 and watched them. When the reading was fin- 
 ished, they stood eagerly talking together, and her 
 curiosity was awakened. 
 
 " What is the news ? '' she demanded aloud. 
 
 The workmen turned and stood silent ; then one of 
 their-number advanced to the window. 
 
 " It will interest you. Signora," was his brief reply 
 as he offered the journal to her. 
 
 She seized it,, and looking at the place which
 
 396 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 the man's finger indicated, she read the following 
 telegram : 
 
 "At Gazzada, near Varese, ten cases are reported 
 among the tenants at the Villa Loreno. There is a cordon 
 of military around the estate, and to get news is difficult. 
 The Marchese Loreno is said to be in Rome, but the Mar- 
 chesa is reported to be nobly devoting herself to the sick, 
 whom she attends personally. Her heroism has restored 
 order, but the gravest anxiety for her safet^v is felt through- 
 out the district, and great excitement prevails." 
 
 At that moment the studio bell rang. She glanced 
 hastily at her watch and whispered distinctly : " It is 
 the Marquis ; not a word of this to him. I must break 
 the news. Quick ! go to work before he enters ! " 
 
 Hurrying back to her room she seized her chisel, 
 and as Filippo's step was heard upon the threshold 
 she was hard at work. Turning to greet him, she 
 searched his face eagerly, and a glance convinced her 
 that he had not heard the news. She felt that it 
 should be broken gently. 
 
 " Is the water boiling?" he asked with a careless 
 smile. " I 'm tired, and the tea will be welcome." 
 
 " It 's nearly ready," was the reply. 
 
 " Go on with your work," he said. " I '11 sit here 
 and watch you ; or I '11 glance over the evening 
 paper, if you have one." 
 
 He seemed much more like the old Filippo now, 
 and she dreaded to tell him the bad news. 
 
 "No, I 'm tired of work," she said. " If the paper 
 has come I '11 read it to you while you watch the 
 water."
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE*' 397 
 
 " Very well ; " and as she went into the ante-room 
 he seated himself beside the small lamp, over which 
 the kettle stood. 
 
 She snatched the paper from her pocket, and after 
 smoothing it, stood with her hand upon the door- 
 handle, undecided what to do. That he had left 
 Varese indicated much, almost everything, in spite 
 of his apparent apathy. Confronted as he was by 
 the responsibility of loosening bonds and readjust- 
 ing relations which had existed for nearly seven years, 
 a heart as tender as his would naturally have a sense 
 of misgiving, even of regret, that might account for 
 his present conduct. It was nothing more nor less 
 than sympathy for Agatha, and a little time was 
 needed to allow it to subside. Mercede did not 
 doubt the strength of her own power over him ; yet 
 she regretted more than she could tell, the unfortu- 
 nate news which must add to his sympathy with the 
 wife to whom he had just dealt so terrible a blow. 
 She must not delay longer, however, and would let 
 circumstances guide her. Re-entering the studio, she 
 took a chair with her back to the light, and opening 
 the paper carelessly, began to read aloud. 
 
 "A very interesting discovery was made yesterday at 
 Tivoli, while some workmen were digging a well upon the 
 estate of " 
 
 " Leave that until after you read the telegrams," 
 Loreno interrupted. 
 
 " As you please ; " and she turned to another page. 
 
 "The steamship 'Gottardo,' of the Florio line, arrived 
 in New York. The ' Independente,' of the same line, 
 arrived in Gibraltar, bound for Genoa."
 
 398 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " How stupid ! " And she ran her eye across the 
 page. " Ah, this is better : " 
 
 "Paris. It is reported here in official circles that ne- 
 gotiations have been opened with the Vatican in regard 
 to " 
 
 " Never mind those silly reports," Loreno ex- 
 claimed. " As an ex-diplomat I know how in dull 
 times I gave similar reports for the correspondents to 
 send to-day and contradict to-morrow. What is the 
 news of the cholera, anything from Milan or around 
 my neighborhood ? " 
 
 She seemed a long time finding these despatches. 
 
 " Milan Milan," she said presently, glancing 
 down the column. " No, not a word." 
 
 " Nor from any part of our district? " 
 
 "Spezia, Genoa, Poretta is Poretta near you ? " 
 
 " No, it is this side of Bologna, half-way to 
 Florence." 
 
 "Oh, so it is. But why don't you pay attention 
 to your duty ; don't you see the steam ? " and 
 crunching the paper in her hand, she used it in lift- 
 ing the hot kettle. " Blow out the light for me 
 that 's right I Now put that tile upon the table, for 
 this kettle is heavy so; thank you. Now please 
 bring me that bowl of sugar yonder ; " and as he 
 turned to obey her she tossed the crumpled news- 
 paper upon the table. The door was opened, and a 
 servant entered with a telegram upon a salver. 
 
 Rising quickly Mercede intercepted the bearer, who 
 was approaching Filippo, and snatching up the en- 
 velope motioned with her head for the man to with-
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 399 
 
 draw. She studied the address for an instant, and 
 then thrust the despatch unread into her pocket. 
 
 "That's delicious!" laughed Loreno. "You re- 
 ceive telegrams like a veteran." 
 
 " It is something I know about already." 
 
 " What a comfort ! I wish I could discount my 
 telegrams." 
 
 " You are not expecting one ? " and she looked at 
 him furtively. 
 
 " No ; but when cholera is reported to be flitting 
 about the neighborhood, one can't help being a trifle 
 nervous." 
 
 " Did you arrange to have them send you a 
 telegram ? " 
 
 " No ; but of course they would." 
 
 " And then you would return immediately? " 
 
 " I suppose so." 
 
 " Yet why should you? You couldn't do any good, 
 and would simply risk your life to no purpose." 
 
 " Still, duty is duty." 
 
 " If you think it your duty to undertake this Ber- 
 lin mission, I should think it your duty to carry it 
 out." 
 
 " That would depend. If cholera were actuall} T to 
 break out at Varese, I would let the mission go to 
 the dogs." 
 
 " I should regard that as unworthy of you. Indeed, 
 I'd thwart you if I could." 
 
 "Thwart me!" and he laughed. "I think not; 
 no one thwarts me." 
 
 "Vain man !" and her face bore its brightest smile. 
 
 "No, it 's only a fact for my autobiography, which,
 
 400 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 if the Berlin mission succeeds, will be worth writ- 
 ing ; " and he sipped his tea complacently. 
 
 " Yet you would throw it over for the sake of a 
 senseless sentiment." 
 
 He poised his cup and looked at her with an 
 amused expression. 
 
 " How devoted you are to strong phrases !" was his 
 irrelevant reply. 
 
 " I confess I 've no patience with halting minds or 
 measures," she answered earnestly. " Having once 
 put my hand to the plough I never look back ; but 
 you, while you walk forward perhaps, seem to stretch 
 your very neck looking for letters, telegrams, or 
 messages from the villa." 
 
 He only laughed. " You are too imaginative for a 
 diplomat," he said; " but if your imagination had n't 
 found a vent in sculpture, you would have made a 
 great journalist." 
 
 " Don't treat me like a child," and she drew her- 
 self up slightly. " I may have colored the picture 
 rather strongly, but I assure you the lines are life- 
 like." 
 
 But her sarcasm seemed only to amuse him now ; 
 she felt this, and was alarmed. A temporary reaction 
 was to be expected, but it was stronger than she had 
 anticipated. With this mood upon him, dare she 
 trust him with this knowledge of Agatha's danger 
 and heroism ? 
 
 Her hand fell upon the telegram in her pocket 
 and her fingers clutched it desperately. Suppose he 
 should discover her contrivances to keep him ? He 
 might upbraid her, but she would plead her desire
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 401 
 
 to keep him from danger. From danger ! Strangely 
 enough, in her eager thought for herself she had 
 overlooked the danger to him ; but now its realization 
 appalled her. Without a moment's hesitation she 
 rose, and having adjusted a book or two upon the 
 table, picked up the tell-tale journal and flung it into 
 tlie waste-basket. 
 
 Her decision was taken, at any cost, Filippo 
 should not go to Varese. 
 
 " When do you leave for Germany ? " she asked. 
 
 " To-morrow morning." 
 
 " So soon ? " There was something in her eye and 
 tone that always appealed to him, something which 
 stirred him even now. 
 
 To-morrow morning ! The words set her mind 
 aflame. To-morrow morning he would be on his way 
 out of Italy ! If the news from Varese could be 
 kept from him until then, the chances were against 
 his learning it until too late to give up his mission. 
 To risk the effect of Agatha's heroism upon his mind 
 at this critical moment was not to be thought of, and 
 added to this was the peril to his life. He must be 
 induced to leave Rome instantly, and must, moreover, 
 remain away until the morning. But how could it 
 be accomplished ? 
 
 In this desperate moment her course was, as ever, 
 dominated by her unbending will. She had now 
 gone too far to retreat. A crisis was inevitable, nor 
 could the battle be a drawn one : she must either win 
 or lose. There must, therefore, be no half measures ; 
 to be weak were 'to deserve defeat. What did she 
 care for the good opinion of the world as compared 
 
 26
 
 402 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 with Filippo's love, Filippo's life ? For such a recom- 
 pense no sacrifice was too great. Yes, she herself 
 must take him from Rome and keep him until the 
 morrow ! 
 
 Rallying all the forces of her nature, she prepared 
 for action, stamping upon conscience and drowning 
 its last despairing cry with the shibboleth, " I love 
 therefore I am right ! " 
 
 " I presume," she said aloud, " if you are going 
 to-morrow, that your 'business here is- finished ? " 
 
 " Yes, I 'm quite ready to start." 
 
 " Then I have a plan to propose. Let us run out 
 to Frascati to pass this last evening; it will be a 
 pleasant memory while you are away." 
 
 " I 'm scarcely in the mood for it," he answered 
 gravely. 
 
 " That will soon come when we are fairly started, 
 and I should very much like to go." 
 
 " I 'm sorry to deny you," he said, trying to dis- 
 guise his repugnance to the plan, "but I shall have 
 all the railway clatter that I want without begin- 
 ning to-night." 
 
 " That is no reason for denying me," she persisted. 
 " It's not much to ask when I am not to see you for 
 a month." Her head swam with suppressed excite- 
 ment, and her eyes glowed with the intensity of her 
 purpose. " Surely, Filippo, you won't disappoint 
 me! It would be more than selfish, it-would be 
 positively unkind." 
 
 " Don't urge me," he replied. " You would n't 
 wish me to go unwillingly." 
 
 " Unwillingly ! " Then turning away she continued
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 403 
 
 in a low voice, " No ; I should rather give it up than 
 humiliate myself." 
 
 " Pardon me, Mercede ! " he said quickly, " I did 
 not intend to wound you ; but why not remain here 
 quietly ? " 
 
 She came nearer. " Can't you see, Filippo, that it 
 is more than a passing whim ? And if that were all 
 it is, think how many days must pass before you will 
 again have a chance to humor me." 
 
 He was silent, and her heart beat wildly. On the 
 morrow, he told himself, he was to leave Rome, and 
 his silence while away would indicate much to Mer- 
 cede. Both his inclination and judgment were ad- 
 verse to her plan ; but, on the other hand, he did 
 not propose to adopt a radical course toward her 
 which might embarrass the freedom of Agatha's 
 relations with the General. Since Mercede's heart 
 was so strangely set upon making this excursion, it 
 might be best to humor her. Yet he wished that 
 she had not proposed it, and to-day of all days. 
 
 Mercede was searching his face closely. " Come," 
 she urged, " be kind to me ; it will be a long time 
 before I shall see you again, and who knows what 
 may happen ? " 
 
 It was a random shot, but it struck him fairly, 
 for he was not indifferent to the pain which would 
 be hers when she realized his changed attitude toward 
 her. . . 
 
 " I'll send a line to my maid," she exclaimed im- 
 petuously, going to her desk, " to tell her that I 
 won't be home to dinner; and then let us be off! 
 If we hurry, we can catch the five-thirty train."
 
 404 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 Without waiting for his reply, she began to write, 
 when a workman entered and laid a card before 
 her. 
 
 She glanced at it, and her face assumed the pallor 
 of death. 
 
 " I '11 come immediately," she managed to say, and 
 seizing a fan plied it nervously as she tried to control 
 her wavering senses. 
 
 Filippo watched her. " Are you faint ? " he asked 
 quickly. 
 
 " No only the heat is awful," and in spite of her 
 giddiness she managed to smile brightly. 
 
 Rising, she walked as steadily as she could to the 
 door, where she turned, and, nodding familiarly, as- 
 sured Filippo she would be back presently. 
 
 Entering the adjoining room she was confronted 
 by the prim figure of Mr. Peter Dow. 
 
 " Come outside," she said, leading him through a 
 long window to the open air. 
 
 " You have come from Varese ? " she began. 
 
 " Yes ; I arrived an hour ago. Not finding the 
 Marquis at home, I came here." 
 
 " Why here ? " 
 
 " I thought he might be with you." 
 
 " He was here this morning ; I would advise your 
 seeking him at the Prime Minister's office." 
 
 Mr. Dow looked surprised. 
 
 " Is n't he here ? " he asked. 
 
 " Here ! What put such an idea into your 
 head ? " 
 
 " Your men said he was with you, and that you 
 were breaking the news to him."
 
 " MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 405 
 
 "What news?" 
 
 " About the cholera." 
 
 " Is there any truth in the report ? " 
 
 " It is all true." 
 
 Then I '11 tell him to-night." 
 
 " But the men said he was with you." 
 
 " So he was, but I would not alarm him so greatly 
 upon a mere rumor." 
 
 " Has he gone ? " 
 
 She hesitated an instant. Loreno's life was in her 
 hands, she thought. 
 
 " Yes," she said firmly ; " by the lawn, five min- 
 utes ago." 
 
 Her companion rose instantly. " Then I must fol- 
 low him. Where has he gone ? " 
 
 41 He did n't say. What do you wish with him ? " 
 
 " His wife is at the villa, cholera is raging, and 
 only Veltri is with her." 
 
 " But would you have him sacrifice his life ? " 
 
 " Let him decide. It is my duty to inform him of 
 the facts." 
 
 " And murder him ? " 
 
 " ' Murder him ' ! What do you mean ? " 
 
 " That to tell him is to send him into the very jaws 
 of death." 
 
 " He will never forgive me if I don't tell him, and 
 his place is by the side of his wife." 
 
 She drove her nails into her hands and ground her 
 teeth, but controlled herself. 
 
 " He will come to me again this evening," she said ; 
 " leave me to break the awful news to him." 
 
 " No ; I must see him myself."
 
 406 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Theu come to the Palazzo this evening at eigrht 
 
 - o o 
 
 o'clock. Now I .must ask you to excuse me, for I 
 have an engagement." 
 
 " Will you prepare him ? He should take the 
 night train." 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Very well ; I will be prompt. And in the mean 
 time I '11 go look for him." 
 
 " Quite right," and giving him her hand she moved 
 away. 
 
 He was puzzled, not knowing where to go with 
 any chance of success. He had not stopped to eat 
 anything since his arrival, and his fast, added to the 
 heat and his fatigue, had given him a raging head- 
 ache. 
 
 " I '11 sit down for a moment," he said with a dis- 
 heartened sigh ; and he went to a bench under a 
 neighboring tree. As he seated himself, Loreno ap- 
 peared at the window of Madame Andrews studio. 
 
 " By George ! " exclaimed the astonished witness, 
 *' it is the best way of getting there ! " 
 
 While returning to the studio Mercede's mind was 
 concentrated upon one aim, to get Filippo away 
 from Rome before Mr. Dow should see him. All 
 her power of self-control, all her natural gift as an 
 actress, was brought into play to carry out her pur- 
 pose. She entered the room, blithely humming a 
 favorite song. 
 
 "There !" she exclaimed, "all business is finished, 
 and now I have nothing to do but enjoy myself. 
 Are you ready ? "
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 407 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Come, then ! " and she slipped her hand through 
 his arm ; looking up at him brightly, she added, 
 "Won't it be delightful?" 
 
 As she spoke the words the door opened and they 
 were confronted by the sober face of Mr. Dow. 
 
 "Why, how do you do?" Mercede exclaimed, rush- 
 ing forward and blocking his entrance. " Excuse me 
 for a moment, Filippo," she said over her shoulder, 
 " I 've something to say to Mr. Dow ; " and before 
 that astonished gentleman could object, he found 
 himself pushed back into the anteroom and the door 
 closed. 
 
 " For God's sake don't tell him now!" she pleaded; 
 " he 's entirely unprepared. I wanted time to pre- 
 pare him, you know. Come to my apartment to- 
 night at eight, as I proposed. I was about to take 
 him for a walk and break the news by degrees." 
 
 The shrewd American looked at her speechlessly 
 for a moment. 
 
 " You said he was n't here," he replied, mentally 
 associating two different trains of thought. 
 
 " I know I did. I had n't time to explain, and took 
 that way of using my judgment. Leave me to break 
 the news, won't you ? " 
 
 " Now ? On your walk ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes ; will you ? " 
 
 He thought a moment before finally deciding. 
 
 " Yes," he said, "and I '11 go with you." 
 
 She was equal to the emergency. " Certainly, if 
 you wish to ; although I can tell him much better 
 alone."
 
 408 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " Can you ? " and he seemed to be considering the 
 suggestion. 
 
 " Certainly. And you wait here until we come 
 back." 
 
 She knew her plan was more than bold, that it 
 was desperate. But what could she do ? If Filippo 
 learned all now, her position would be intolerable, 
 for everything was against her, appearances, facts, 
 and time. 
 
 " How soon will you be back ? " inquired Mr. Dow. 
 
 " I can't tell precisely ; how can I ? " 
 
 " I think I had better go with you." 
 
 " Santa Maria ! " and Mercede turned upon him 
 with blazing eyes. " What is the matter with you ? 
 Must I go over the whole thing again ? " 
 
 u No, I 've got it all clearly in my mind ; but I 
 think I '11 go with you, or else tell him myself, for 
 there is no time to lose." 
 
 " I '11 tell him without delay, and bring him back 
 here within half an hour. Ecco ! " 
 
 " Still, I don't like to get into the habit of trusting 
 others to do my business ; I think I '11 tell " 
 
 In her wrath Mercede suddenly seized his arm. 
 
 " For Heaven's sake, Mr. Dow ! " she interrupted, 
 "don't say that again. Talk of a habit! You've 
 said that fifty times. Now you simply must not 
 and shall not go with us ! It is too serious a thing 
 for mere civility, and I say you shall not tell 
 him." 
 
 " I don't insist upon telling him, only upon going 
 with you." 
 
 " Well, that 's impossible. I don't want you."
 
 " MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 409 
 
 " I 'in very sorry ; but all the same I think I must 
 
 go-" 
 
 She felt that the crisis had come. This man's 
 obstinacy baffled her completely. While she stood 
 silent, trying to form some new plan of action, her 
 cheek suddenly blanched as a tap was heard upon 
 the door behind her and Filippo's face appeared. 
 
 " I 'm glad to see you, Mr. Dow ! " he said, nodding 
 cordiall}'. "When you and Madame Andre' have 
 finished, I want the news from Varese ; so don't go 
 without seeing me again." 
 
 "It is you I have come to see," was the quick 
 response, " and there is n't a moment to be lost, for 
 you must catch " 
 
 " The five-thirty train," Mercede interrupted 
 coolly ; " so please postpone your chat, Mr. Dow, 
 until the Marquis returns. Go get my hat and 
 cloak, Filippo," she added brightly, "and meet me 
 upon the lawn ; I '11 give you the Varese news." 
 Filippo turned to obey her, and she whispered 
 appealingly to Mr. Dow, " Wait here, and leave it 
 to me!" 
 
 " Madame Andre, what does all this trifling mean?" 
 he demanded with unsuspected savageness. "I have 
 a serious errand with the Marquis, and it must be 
 discharged without further delay and by me." 
 
 Loreno turned instantly, and going close to Mer- 
 cede, eyed her narrowly. 
 
 She was bewildered by the sudden disaster which 
 confronted her, and stood looking irresolutely into 
 his eyes. Suddenly he turned awa} 7 , and going to 
 the studio door held it open for Mr. Dow to pass.
 
 410 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 " One moment, Filippo ! " Mercede exclaimed vehe- 
 mently. " I too have something to tell you ! Hear 
 me first Filippo!" but without a word he followed 
 Mr. Dow and closed the door. 
 
 u You have come from the Marchesa," Loreno said. 
 " Yes ; that is, from Varese." 
 " The Marchesa has sent me a message ? " 
 " Yes. She begs that you will not return to 
 Varese." 
 
 " Begs me not to return ! I don't understand 
 
 you." 
 
 " Have you seen the evening paper ? " 
 
 Yes." 
 
 " Did you read the cholera reports ? " 
 
 " Yes ; that is, I heard them read." 
 
 " You did ! " 
 
 " Yes ; why ? Great God, Mr. Dow, it 's not at 
 Varese ! " 
 
 " Even worse ; at the villa itself." 
 
 " But my wife and the children are away and 
 safe ? " and grasping the other's arm he searched his 
 face eagerly. 
 
 " The children are safe." 
 
 " And Agatha " he asked with strained eyes and 
 bated breath. 
 
 *' Is there with her people, but was well yesterday." 
 
 " Thank God ! thank God ! " and his voice rang 
 through the room as he lifted his hands gratefully 
 toward heaven. He walked away and remained 
 silent for a moment. Then he turned and said in a 
 calmer voice : " So the Marchesa remained among her 
 people. Sending every one else to a place of safety,
 
 "MORE LASTING THAN BRONZE." 411 
 
 she remains to help the unfortunate. Of course she 
 does ! " 
 
 " The children are at Erba, and Veltri remained 
 to help the Marchesa." 
 
 " Veltri ! and here am I loitering in Rome ! " 
 
 " You can catch to-night's express " 
 
 " I must go faster," he interrupted. " I must have 
 a special train. Are you going North ? " 
 
 " I go to Erba." 
 
 " Will you go with me ? " 
 
 " Gladly." 
 
 " Then come ! " and he seized his hat. 
 
 But behind him stole a quiet step, and a trembling 
 hand was laid upon his arm. 
 
 " Filippo ! " 
 
 He turned, and his eyes fell upon a face pitiable in 
 its fright and woe, but the face into which Mercede 
 looked was utterly impassive. 
 
 " Filippo one moment one moment only ! Don't 
 misjudge me I have nothing to ask save this: 
 Don't go to Varese ! " and she held out her hands 
 as though begging alms. " Send for Agatha. Plead 
 with command her to come away ; but for my sake 
 yes, for Agatha's sake, don't go to Varese ! Prom- 
 ise me this, Filippo ! " He drew back, and she fol- 
 lowed him with great tears blinding her eyes. 
 *' Filippo ! " she pleaded, her lip quivering, her deep 
 voice trembling and broken, " don't sacrifice your 
 life for those peasants ! Though you save a hundred 
 of them, they can't comfort us, Agatha and me. 
 In her name I plead, as well as in my own. Go near 
 if you will, and send for her. Beg her as she loves
 
 412 AGATHA PAGE. 
 
 you to come away beg her in the name of her 
 children to come away ; but don't go to that fatal 
 place ! Tell him not to go, Mr. Dow ; please tell him 
 not to go ! " 
 
 Her nerve and her strength gave way, and she 
 sank to the floor sobbing piteously. 
 
 Mr. Dow turned away his face, but Loreno looked 
 upon her without a token of pity. The scales had 
 fallen from his eyes and her spell was broken. His 
 mind was absorbed by one thought Agatha. At 
 last he comprehended the fulness of her strength. 
 There was now no vestige of blindness left. A 
 swift vision swept across his mind of her sweet 
 face, her heroic faith, her self-control and patience, 
 crowned by her consistent consecration to his suffer- 
 ing people. 
 
 Yet he felt no resentment toward the woman at 
 his feet. So far as he recognized the past, it was 
 only to glorify Agatha and to condemn himself; for 
 Mercede he had absolutely no thought, neither of 
 disdain nor sympathy. He saw before him only a 
 weeping woman, whose sorrow failed to touch him. 
 Why this was so he did not ask himself, nor did he 
 even wonder. It was no time for small emotions. 
 It is the heart that feels pity, and his heart was verily 
 benumbed with fear for an incalculably precious life 
 at this moment in jeopardy. Perhaps he might never 
 again see Agatha alive, never crave her forgiveness, 
 never again hold her to his heart or look into those 
 clear true eyes as he pledged to her the unfaltering 
 devotion of his remaining years. What, then, were a 
 few tears to such anguish as his !
 
 "MORE LASTING THAX BRONZE." 413 
 
 Although his eyes were fixed upon Mercede ho 
 seemed scarcely to see her. He turned to Mr. 
 Dow. 
 
 "Come," he said, "we are losing precious time." 
 And without another glance upon the beseeching 
 face upturned to his, he strode from the room. 
 
 UniTersity Press : John Wilson and Son, Cambridge.
 
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