lly."

"There are such things as necessary follies."

"You are not reflecting; you are speaking in passion."

"Why then do you make me speak?"

Rowland meditated a moment. "Is it also necessary that you should lose
the best friend you have?"

Roderick looked up. "That 's for you to settle!"

His best friend clapped on his hat and strode away; in a moment the door
closed behind him. Rowland walked hard for nearly a couple of hours.
He passed up the Corso, out of the Porta del Popolo and into the Villa
Borghese, of which he made a complete circuit. The keenness of his
irritation subsided, but it left him with an intolerable weight upon his
heart. When dusk had fallen, he found himself near the lodging of his
friend Madame Grandoni. He frequently paid her a visit during the hour
which preceded dinner, and he now ascended her unillumined staircase and
rang at her relaxed bell-rope with an especial desire for diversion. He
was told that, for the moment, she was occupied, but that if he would
come in and wait, she would presently be with him. He had not sat
musing in the firelight for ten minutes when he heard the jingle of the
door-bell and then a rustling and murmuring in the hall. The door of the
little saloon opened, but before the visitor appeared he had recognized
her voice. Christina Light swept forward, preceded by her poodle, and
almost filling the narrow parlor with the train of her dress. She was
colored here and there by the flicking firelight.

"They told me you were here," she said simply, as she took a seat.

"And yet you came in? It is very brave," said Rowland.

"You are the brave one, when one thinks of it! Where is the padrona?"

"Occupied for the moment. But she is coming."

"How soon?"

"I have already waited ten minutes; I expect her from moment to moment."

"Meanwhile we are alone?" And she glanced into the dusky corners of the
room.

"Unless Stenterello counts," said Rowland.

"Oh, he knows my secrets--unfortunate brute!" She sat silent awhile,
looking into the firelight. Then at last, glancing at Rowland, "Come!
say something pleasant!" she exclaimed.

"I have been very happy to hear of your engagement."

"No, I don't mean that. I have heard that so often, only since
breakfast, that it has lost all sense. I mean some of those unexpected,
charming things that you said to me a month ago at Saint Cecilia's."

"I offended you, then," said Rowland. "I was afraid I had."

"Ah, it occu