t old spare mooring-rope which had done duty last night
and had been found chafed this morning.

Meanwhile the human nature on which Ruggiero counted so naturally and
confidently was going through a rather strange phase of development in
the upper regions where the Marchesa's terrace was situated.

Beatrice walked slowly back under the trees. Ruggiero's quaint talk had
amused her and had momentarily diverted the current of her thoughts. But
the moment she left him, her mind reverted to her immediate trouble, and
she felt a little stab of pain at the heart which was new to her. The
news that San Miniato had actually sent a telegram was unwelcome in the
extreme. He had, indeed, said in her presence that he had sent several.
But that might have been a careless inaccuracy, or he might have
actually written the rest and given them to be despatched before coming
upstairs. To doubt that the one message already sent contained the news
of his engagement, seemed gratuitous. It was only too sure that he had
looked upon what had passed at Tragara as a final decision on the part
of Beatrice, and that henceforth she was his affianced bride. Her mother
had not even found great difficulty in persuading her of the fact, and
after that one bitter struggle she had given up the battle. It had been
bitter indeed while it had lasted, and some of the bitterness returned
upon her now. But she would not again need to force the tears back,
pressing her hands upon her eyes with desperate strength as she had
done. It was useless to cry over what could not be helped, and since she
had made the great mistake of her life she must keep her word or lose
her good name for ever, according to the ideas in which she had been
brought up. But it would be very hard to meet San Miniato now, within
the next quarter of an hour, as she inevitably must. Less hard, perhaps,
than if she had convicted him of falsehood in the matter of the
telegram, as she had fully expected that she could--but painful enough,
heaven knew.

There was an old trace of oriental fatalism in her nature, passed down
to her, perhaps, from some Saracen ancestor in the unknown genealogy of
her family. It is common enough in the south, often profoundly leavened
with superstition, sometimes existing side by side with the most
absolute scepticism, but its influence is undeniable, and accounts for a
certain resignation in hopeless cases which would be utterly foreign to
the northern character. B