tume; it was common enough to many Neapolitans who have learned to
dread the chill night winds that blow down from the lofty Apennines in
early spring. Thus attired, too, I knew my features would be almost
invisible to HER more especially as the place of our rendezvous was a
long dim entresol lighted only by a single oil-lamp, a passage that led
into the garden, one that was only used for private purposes, having
nothing to do with the ordinary modes of exit and entrance to and from
the hotel.

Into this hall I now hurried with an eager step; it was deserted; she
was not there. Impatiently I waited--the minutes seemed hours! Sounds
of music floated toward me from the distant ball-room--the dreamy,
swinging measure of a Viennese waltz. I could almost hear the flying
feet of the dancers. I was safe from all observation where I stood--the
servants were busy preparing the grand marriage supper, and all the
inhabitants of the hotel were absorbed in watching the progress of the
brilliant and exceptional festivities of the night.

Would she never come? Suppose, after all, she should escape me! I
trembled at the idea, then put it from me with a smile at my own folly.
No, her punishment was just, and in her case the Fates were inflexible.
So I thought and felt. I paced up and down feverishly; I could count
the thick, heavy throbs of my own heart. How long the moments seemed!
Would she never come? Ah! at last! I caught the sound of a rustling
robe and a light step--a breath of delicate fragrance was wafted on the
air like the odor of falling orange-blossoms. I turned, and saw her
approaching. With swift grace she ran up to me as eagerly as a child,
her heavy cloak of rich Russian sable falling back from her shoulders
and displaying her glittering dress, the dark fur of the hood
heightening by contrast the fairness of her lovely flushed face, so
that it looked like the face of one of Correggio's angels framed in
ebony and velvet. She laughed, and her eyes flashed saucily.

"Did I keep you waiting, caro mio?" she whispered; and standing on
tiptoe she kissed the hand with which I held my cloak muffled about me.
"How tall you look in that Almaviva! I am so sorry I am a little late,
but that last waltz was so exquisite I could not resist it; only I wish
YOU had danced it with me."

"You honor me by the wish," I said, keeping one arm about her waist and
drawing her toward the door that opened into the garden. "Tell me, how
did you