ing this Lieutenant Pierson that you were
pleading to him on behalf of your lover? Could anything be so monstrous,
when one can see that he is malleable to the twist of your little finger?
Are you only half a woman, that you have no consciousness of your power?
Probably you can allow yourself--enviable privilege!--to suppose that he
called you down at this late hour simply to inform you that he is
compelled to do something which will cause you unhappiness! I repeat, it
is an enviable privilege. Now, when the real occasion has come for you to
serve us, you have not a single weapon--except these tears, which you are
wasting on my lap. Be sure that if he denounces Angelo, Angelo's life
cries out against you. You have but to quicken your brain to save him.
Did he expose his life for you or not? I knew that he was in Meran," the
signora continued sadly. "The paper which frightened the silly peasants,
revealed to me that he was there, needing help. I told you Angelo was
under an evil star. I thought my day to-morrow would be a day of
scheming. The task has become easy, if you will."

"Be merciful; the task is dreadful," said Vittoria.

"The task is simple. You have an instrument ready to your hands. You can
do just what you like with him--make an Italian of him; make him renounce
his engagement to this pert little Lena of Lenkenstein, break his sword,
play Arlecchino, do what you please. He is not required for any
outrageous performance. A week, and Angelo will have recovered his
strength; you likewise may resume the statuesque demeanour which you have
been exhibiting here. For the space of one week you are asked for some
natural exercise of your wits and compliancy. Hitherto what have you
accomplished, pray?" Laura struck spitefully at Vittoria's degraded
estimation of her worth as measured by events. "You have done
nothing--worse than nothing. It gives me horrors to find it necessary to
entreat you to look your duty in the face and do it, that even three or
four Italian hearts--Carlo among them--may thank you. Not Carlo, you
say?" (Vittoria had sobbed, "No, not Carlo.") "How little you know men!
How little do you think how the obligations of the hour should affect a
creature deserving life! Do you fancy that Carlo wishes you to be for
ever reading the line of a copy-book and shaping your conduct by it? Our
Italian girls do this; he despises them. Listen to me; do not I know what
is meant by the truth of love? I pass through