she asked.

Us? Did she suppose he had followed the old woman? Ovid lost no time
in setting her right. "I didn't even see Teresa," he said. "I followed
You."

She was silent. What did her silence mean? Was she confused, or was she
still at a loss to understand him? That morbid sensitiveness, which was
one of the most serious signs of his failing health, was by this time
sufficiently irritated to hurry him into extremities. "Did you ever
hear," he asked, "of such a thing as love at first sight?"

She started. Surprise, confusion, doubt, succeeded each other in rapid
changes on her mobile and delicate face. Still silent, she roused her
courage, and looked at him.

If he had returned the look, he would have told the story of his first
love without another word to help him. But his shattered nerves unmanned
him, at the moment of all others when it was his interest to be bold.
The fear that he might have allowed himself to speak too freely--a
weakness which would never have misled him in his days of health and
strength--kept his eyes on the ground. She looked away again with a
quick flush of shame. When such a man as Ovid spoke of love at first
sight, what an instance of her own vanity it was to have thought that
his mind was dwelling on _her!_ He had kindly lowered himself to the
level of a girl's intelligence, and had been trying to interest her by
talking the language of romance. She was so dissatisfied with herself
that she made a movement to turn back.

He was too bitterly disappointed, on his side, to attempt to prolong the
interview. A deadly sense of weakness was beginning to overpower him. It
was the inevitable result of his utter want of care for himself. After a
sleepless night, he had taken a long walk before breakfast; and to
these demands on his failing reserves of strength, he had now added the
fatigue of dawdling about a garden. Physically and mentally he had no
energy left.

"I didn't mean it," he said to Carmina sadly; "I am afraid I have
offended you."

"Oh, how little you know me," she cried, "if you think that!"

This time their eyes met. The truth dawned on her--and he saw it.

He took her hand. The clammy coldness of his grasp startled her. "Do you
still wonder why I followed you?" he asked. The words were so faintly
uttered that she could barely hear them. Heavy drops of perspiration
stood on his forehead; his face faded to a gray and ghastly
whiteness--he staggered, and tried desperately t