adily, "I have an ardent desire to
do justice to your admirable qualities, and to give you all you
deserve. If you think you could be happy with me, speak frankly--I
cannot offer you the passionate adoration of a young man--my blood is
cold and my pulse is slow--but what I CAN do, I will!"

Having spoken thus, I was silent--gazing at her intently. She paled and
flushed alternately, and seemed for a moment lost in thought--then a
sudden smile of triumph curved her mouth--she raised her large lovely
eyes to mine, with a look of melting and wistful tenderness. She laid
her needle-work gently down, and came close up to me--her fragrant
breath fell warm on my cheek--her strange gaze fascinated me, and a
sort of tremor shook my nerves.

"You mean," she said, with a tender pathos in her voice--"that you are
willing to marry me, but that you do not really LOVE me?"

And almost appealingly she laid her white hand on my shoulder--her
musical accents were low and thrilling--she sighed faintly. I was
silent--battling violently with the foolish desire that had sprung up
within me, the desire to draw this witching fragile thing to my heart,
to cover her lips with kisses--to startle her with the passion of my
embraces! But I forced the mad impulse down and stood mute. She watched
me--slowly she lifted her hand from where it had rested, and passed it
with a caressing touch through my hair.

"No--you do not really LOVE me," she whispered--"but I will tell you
the truth--_I_ LOVE YOU!"

And she drew herself up to her full height and smiled again as she
uttered the lie. I knew it was a lie--but I seized the hand whose
caresses stung me, and held it hard, as I answered:

"YOU love ME? No, no--I cannot believe it--it is impossible!"

She laughed softly. "It is true though," she said, emphatically, "the
very first time I saw you I knew I should love you! I never even liked
my husband, and though in some things you resemble him, you are quite
different in others--and superior to him in every way. Believe it or
not as you like, you are the only man in all the world I have ever
loved!"

And she made the assertion unblushingly, with an air of conscious pride
and virtue. Half stupefied at her manner, I asked:

"Then you will be my wife?"

"I will!" she answered--"and tell me--your name is Cesare, is it not?"

"Yes," I said, mechanically.

"Then, CESARE" she murmured, tenderly, "I will MAKE you love me very
much!"

And with a quic