Pietro Ghisleri

ot been of a high order, and as for the sentiments it expressed, a good number of the audience were more than usually shocked.

to Arden, as they left the seats where they ha

d, it was Ghisleri. That is the man's character. He will talk in that

. "But I should not say it to you, dear, because he is your best friend. He s

Arden, limping along by her side. "But I admir

te another thing to be strong. I believe he is weak, morally speaking.

But I think I understand him

sa dell' Armi were already there. She was so slight of figure, that she draped her nun's dress over her gown, and had on

med Donna Adele, watching them. "How well they

o doubt," said the Marchesa d

me, and Laura herself looked far more saintly in her evening gown than the Contessa dell' Armi had looked in the dress of a nun. The two made a fine contrast, and some one said so, un

nta, as she noticed the Contessa's movement. She spoke just so loud that the latter co

not understand his life, nor him, being far too young and innocent of life's darker thoughts and deeds. She had said that she disliked him, because that seemed

said, did you, Signor Ghisleri?" she asked

ore of the same kind," answer

would rather n

hy

o think such things, nor e

ise. Laura felt a sort of impulse of

ood!" laughed Ghisleri,

ooked very Satanic just then, as his eyebrows went up and t

e does not," she said. "If

ecause God is good to you, He has b

was grave and almost sad. Laura sigh

asked indifferently, after th

think I will go

to the Princess's

Carlyon just now," said the Contessa dell' Armi as he sat down be

red Ghisleri

exclaimed the Contess

Carlyon is quite beyond sarcasms of that sort. Since you are curious, she was telling me that i

ity she is so clumsy and heavily made. Really, has she got you to promise that you

yet. As for your ending of the per

d not s

g with my part, would it? But I can

raising her eyebrows again. "Do

stinct told you that it would be more novel and effective if the Saint yielded

ve let yourse

spoke slowly and looked

ed a little, and she pause

really have any influence over you," she s

at in her carriage, and Pietro Ghisleri went away alone. As he passed through the deserted dining-room, and through the hall where he had sat so long with the Contessa, he could no

self, as he drew on a great driving-coat which c

y nature, and in that sense the weakness could not justly be attributed to Ghisleri. But on this particular night he did a thing which many people would undoubtedly have called sentimental. He turned aside from the highway when he left the great palace in which Gouache lived, and he allowed himself to wander aimlessly on through the older part of the city, until he stopped opposite to the door of a church which

er and Death. It stands in the Via Giulia, behind the Palazzo Farnese. He realised the fact at once, a

ch a church as that, just such a man as I am. Is this the com

ough. He could fancy how the monk and the nun would look, and the train of revellers, and their movemen

nely man. "Am I so bad as tha

. But he was mistaken. He cared-as he expressed it-far more than he dreamed of, more deeply, pe

cupied with dinner parties, musical evenings, and private theatricals as it had formerly been with dancing. The time sped quickly. The past season had left behind it an enormous Corpus Scandalorum Romanorum which made conversation both easy and delightful. How many of the unpleasant stories concerning Lord Herbert Arden, Laura Carlyon, Pietro Ghisleri, and Maddalena dell' Armi could have been distinctly

e gay set felt uncomfortable, and a certain number experienced for the first time the most distinct aversion to confessing their misdeeds, as they ought to do at least once a year. As far as they were concerned, Ghisleri's verses expressed more truth than they had expected to find in them. Ghisleri himself was

son for congratulating himself. It would indeed have been hard to find a happier man than he, and his happiness was perfectly legitimate and well founded. Whether it would prove du

ral growth which made him very unlike most men in his condition, or the comparative health of body whereby he was able to enjoy without danger much of what came in his way. He was in reality a much more social and sociable man than his friend Ghisleri, though he did not possess the same elements of success in society. He was, indeed, sensitive, as has been said, in spite of his denial of the fact, but he was not bitter about his great misfortune. Hitherto only one very painful thought had been con

ening the sunken chest that never held breath enough before wherewith to speak out full words of passionate happiness. Love had dawned upon the dusk of his dark morning as the d

nd. But we do not see, or seeing, care for none of these things in the same measure in which we care for ourselves-and perhaps for others. We turn from the budding flower wearily enough at last, and we own that though it speak to us and touch us, its language is all but strange and its meaning wholly a mystery. Nature tells us little except by association with hearts that have beaten for ours, and then sometimes she tells us all. But the heart itself is the thing, the reality, the seat of all our thoughts and the stay of all our being. Selfishly we see what it does in ourselves, and in others we may see it and watch it without

either common nor unclean in the broad, true sense-such a heart, say, as

said, as they sat by the open window on Easter Day, looking

that you loved me at first s

ou did then, and I felt it. Is it strange? But it hurt me, t

ave by me," answered the young girl. "I know you su

ll of the window, scarcely less white than they. The attitude was habitual to him when he was in that pl

e asked. "Th

s though I had not enough already. Of course, I was hopeless. How could I tell, how could any one guess that you-you of all women-with your beauty,

said Laura. "There is mine to tell, too-and it is not a little."

in the happy silence that followed. But he raised his hea

s breath. "You have given me this new life-do not take it fro

nswered Laura. "If only I could make you sure of that, I should

t everything-though it is hard to believ

s everything more easily than a man does. She needs t

sed one of his own lightly over it, just pressing it now and then, as though to make sure that it was real. "

ttle sigh and looked into his face and saw the expression of something like pain

make you forget those things, and, God willing, I will. You shall forget them as complete

tude was in his face, and he pre

your hand on my shoulder-when you kiss my forehead-tell me quite truly, dear, do you not feel anything lik

ant, as he spoke, then almost closed again, and her lips quivered. Then suddenly without warnin

should think it of me, when I love

and tried to soothe her, caressing her thick black hair, and kissing her forehead tenderly, with a sort of pass

t Laura-beloved-do not cry-I know it now-I shall never thin

there to forgive?" She loo

those tears of you

down again before she spoke, looki

last. "I have not shown you how I lo

already, dear-far m

cted it very well. Was it not natural that Arden should want a pretty wife and that Laura should take any husband that presented himself, since she could get no better? And in that case why should not each act a comedy to gain the other's hand? The world did that sort of thing every day, and what the world did Arden and Laura could

she exclaimed to

observed Pietro

plendid man Lord Herbert is, in everything but his unfortunate deformity. Any one can see that in his face,

garette, looked at her, l

I assure you if my father had told me to marry Lord Herbert, I should have done something quit

could have loved me in the end?" he inquired as though h

. "It would have been something definite, at

-sister can ever love or hate Arden? T

ey say that though he never drinks quite too much, he is so

Ghisleri's eyes suddenly grew hard, and

. Do not be so dreadfully angry. What difference can

truth in it at all. Arden is almost like an invalid. He drinks a glass of hock at breakfast and a glass or two of claret at dinner. I rarely see him to

so impressive," answered Adele

looking-glass when one comes home at seven in the m

n. If the truth were known, it would appear that Adele was at that time much inclined to like Ghisleri, and was willing to sacrifice even the pleasure of saying a sharp thing rather than offend him. The short conversation here reported took place in her boudoir late in the afternoon, and

here," observed Adele, in

pose," laughed the Marche

that I would not have that sort of thin

rue that they had carefully avoided finding themselves there together ever since. But Adele was well aware that Flavia San Giacinto and Ghisleri were by no means intimate, and were not likely to

" asked Flavia.

rsation was. You know how intimat

e! What d

pagne at the Gerano ball, when he carried

wered the Marche

d out. My dear, it is quite dreadful! He says positively that Arden never touches liqueurs, but when I drove him to it, he had to admit that he drinks all

blame him much, if he tries to be a

nnot blame him,

strong for her. She told it all in the strictest confidence to her dearest friend, Donna Maria Boccapaduli. But Donna Maria was a little absent-minded at the moment, her eldest boy having got a cold w

tessa dell' Armi on the steps of a church after hearing a sermon. T

ria. "It is quite true that Lord Herb

essa, indifferently enough

ies about it yesterday afternoon-in

e sort of man who gossiped about his friends. Good-b

on on her face. As she drove away alone, she bit her lip, and looked as