ame. And yet ... she could not give him up. This shadow was, after
all, cast by a flame. But she shivered, thinking of the dreary service
of patience that she demanded of him.

Amaldi on his side, however, was quite content for the present with the
fact that she loved him--that this love had been strong enough to cause
her to tell him of it. He had that genius of passion which knows how to
wait. When the right hour struck he would wait no longer, he told
himself. He did not believe for a moment that years would have to pass
before Sophy would come to him as his wife. He did not wish things
different. It would have repelled him if Sophy could have shown
passionate feeling for him so soon after her second unhappy marriage.
But some day----

Barti was still in Switzerland. There were some points that needed
clearing up, he wrote, but he and the Swiss lawyer Beylan, thought that
all could be arranged. He expected to come to Venice very shortly.

After she had been three days in Venice, Sophy went by gondola up the
Brenta with Amaldi to see his mother, who had been confined to the house
for some time by an attack of rheumatism. Sue and Bobby were with them.
The boy seemed as fond of Amaldi as ever, yet every now and then when he
thought that others were not noticing, he looked at the young man with a
grave, pondering look. He was not jealous of him, yet as much as he
liked him, he was hoping that "Mother wouldn't have him round too much."
It was so jolly when he and mother went for larks quite alone.

From the moment that the Marchesa took her in her arms and kissed her as
a mother kisses her daughter, a weight seemed to fall from Sophy's
heart. There was something in the kiss so natural, so warm, so
consoling. It said better than words could have done, "I understand. I
approve. Be happy, my dear--be happy."

She held the Marchesa very tight--his mother who might some day be her
mother. Tears sprang in spite of her. The Marchesa kissed away these
tears.

"It will all come right, dear--_Speriamo bene_!" she murmured, smiling.

But the next day something occurred that cast a shadow over all. Susan
received a cable from America telling her that her only sister had died
suddenly. As this sister was a widow and left three little children
Susan felt that she must go to America at once.

When Sophy returned from seeing her cousin off for Genoa, a profound,
desolate sadness overcame her--a sense of apprehension. The old adag