ur courtesy is reluctant."

I looked at her in some surprise.

"Reluctant? Signora, pardon me if I do not understand!"

"I mean," she continued, still regarding me steadily, though a faint
blush warmed the clear pallor of her delicate complexion, "that you do
not really like us women; you say pretty things to us, and you try to
be amiable in our company, but you are in truth averse to our ways--you
are sceptical--you think we are all hypocrites."

I laughed a little coldly.

"Really, signora, your words place me in a very awkward position. Were
I to tell you my real sentiments--"

She interrupted me with a touch of her fan on my arm, and smiled
gravely.

"You would say, 'Yes, you are right, signora. I never see one of your
sex without suspecting treachery.' Ah, Signor Conte, we women are
indeed full of faults, but nothing can blind our instinct!" She paused,
and her brilliant eyes softened as she added gently, "I pray your
marriage may be a very happy one."

I was silent. I was not even courteous enough to thank her for the
wish. I was half angered that this girl should have been able to probe
my thoughts so quickly and unerringly. Was I so bad an actor after all?
I glanced down at her as she leaned lightly on my arm.

"Marriage is a mere comedietta," I said, abruptly and harshly. "We have
seen it acted to-night. In a few days I shall play the part of the
chief buffoon--in other words, the husband."

And I laughed. My young companion looked startled, almost frightened,
and over her fair face there flitted an expression of something like
aversion. I did not care--why should I?--and there was no time for more
words between us, for we had reached the outer vestibule of the theater.

My wife's carriage was drawn up at the entrance--my wife herself was
stepping into it. I assisted her, and also her two friends, and then
stood with uncovered head at the door wishing them all the "felicissima
notte." Nina put her tiny jeweled hand through the carriage window--I
stooped and kissed it lightly. Drawing it back quickly, she selected a
white gardenia from her bouquet and gave it to me with a bewitching
smile.

Then the glittering equipage dashed away with a whirl and clatter of
prancing hoofs and rapid wheels, and I stood alone under the wide
portico of the theater--alone, amid the pressing throngs of the people
who were still coming out of the house--holding the strongly scented
gardenia in my hand as vaguely as a f