d receded
from his face, leaving it almost livid. He turned his eyes in a kind of
wondering doubt upon me, but I counterfeited an air of such good faith
and frankness, that he checked some hasty utterance that rose to his
lips, and mastering himself by a strong effort, said, briefly:

"I thank you! I know I can rely upon your honor."

"You can!" I answered, decisively--"as positively as you rely upon your
own!" Again he winced, as though whipped smartly by an invisible lash.
Releasing his hand, I asked, in a tone of affected regret,

"And when must you leave us, carino?"

"Most unhappily, at once," he answered "I start by the early train
to-morrow morning."

"Well, I am glad I knew of this in time," I said, glancing at my
writing-table, which was strewn with unsent invitation cards, and
estimates from decorators and ball furnishers. "I shall not think of
starting any more gayeties till you return."

He looked gratefully at me "Really? It is very kind of you, but I
should be sorry to interfere with any of your plans--"

"Say no more about it, amico" I interrupted him lightly "Everything can
wait till you come back. Besides, I am sure you will prefer to think of
madama as living in some sort of seclusion during your enforced
absence--"

"I should not like her to be dull!" he eagerly exclaimed.

"Oh, no!" I said, with a slight smile at his folly, as if
she--Nina--would permit herself to be dull! "I will take care of that.
Little distractions, such as a drive now and then, or a very quiet,
select musical evening! I understand--leave it all to me! But the
dances, dinners, and other diversions shall wait till your return."

A delighted look flashed into his eyes. He was greatly flattered and
pleased.

"You are uncommonly good to me, conte!" he said, earnestly. "I can
never thank you sufficiently."

"I shall demand a proof of your gratitude some day," I answered. "And
now, had you not better be packing your portmanteau? To-morrow will
soon be here. I will come and see you off in the morning."

Receiving this assurance as another testimony of my friendship, he left
me. I saw him no more that day; it was easy to guess where he was! With
my wife, of course!--no doubt binding her, by all the most sacred vows
he could think of or invent, to be true to him--as true as she had been
false to me. In fancy I could see him clasping her in his arms, and
kissing her many times in his passionate fervor, imploring her to thin