ening. Laura nodded. He
confessed that he was irritated when he met the Countess d'Isorella, with
whom, to his astonishment, he found Barto Rizzo. She had picked him up,
weak from a paroxysm, on the high-road to Milan. "And she tamed the
brute," said Carlo, in admiration of her ability; "she saw that he was
plot-mad, and she set him at work on a stupendous plot; agents running
nowhere, and scribblings concentring in her work-basket. You smile at me,
as if I were a similar patient, signora. But I am my own agent. I have
personally seen all my men in Turin and elsewhere. Violetta has not one
grain of love for her country; but she can be made to serve it. As for
me, I have gone too far to think of turning aside and drilling with
Luciano. He may yet be diverted from Rome, to strike another blow for
Lombardy. The Chief, I know, has some religious sentiment about Rome. So
might I have; it is the Head of Italy. Let us raise the body first. And
we have been beaten here. Great Gods! we will have another fight for it
on the same spot, and quickly. Besides, I cannot face Luciano and tell
him why I was away from him in the dark hour. How can I tell him that I
was lingering to bear a bride to the altar? while he and the rest--poor
fellows! Hard enough to have to mention it to you, signora!"

She understood his boyish sense of shame. Making smooth allowances for a
feeling natural to his youth and the circumstances, she said, "I am your
sister, for you were my husband's brother in arms, Carlo. We two speak
heart to heart: I sometimes fancy you have that voice: you hurt me with
it more than you know; gladden me too! My Carlo, I wish to hear why
Countess d'Isorella objects to your marriage."

"She does not object."

"An answer that begins by quibbling is not propitious. She opposes it."

"For this reason: you have not forgotten the bronze butterfly?"

"I see more clearly," said Laura, with a start.

"There appears to be no cure for the brute's mad suspicion of her," Carlo
pursued: "and he is powerful among the Milanese. If my darling takes my
name, he can damage much of my influence, and--you know what there is to
be dreaded from a fanatic."

Laura nodded, as if in full agreement with him, and said, after
meditating a minute, "What sort of a lover is this!"

She added a little laugh to the singular interjection.

"Yes, I have also thought of a secret marriage," said Carlo, stung by her
penetrating instinct so that he was enable