will bring me your
answer."

At the bottom she wrote "Hermione." But just as she was going to seal
the letter in its envelope she took it out, and added, "Delarey" to her
Christian name.

"Hermione Delarey." She looked at the words for a long time before she
rang the bell for Gaspare.

When she gave him the letter, "Are you going by Mergellina?" she asked
him.

"Si, Signora."

He stood beside her for a moment; then, as she said nothing more, turned
to go out.

"Gaspare, wait one minute," she said, quickly.

"Si, Signora."

"I meant to ask you last night, but--well, we spoke of other things, and
it was so late. Have you ever noticed anything about that boy, Ruffo,
anything at all, that surprised you?"

"Surprised me, Signora?"

"Surprised you, or reminded you of anything?"

"I don't know what you mean, Signora."

Gaspare's voice was hard and cold. He looked steadily at Hermione, as a
man of strong character sometimes looks when he wishes to turn his eyes
away from the glance of another, but will not, because of his manhood.

Hermione hesitated to go on, but something drove her to be more
explicit.

"Have you never noticed in Ruffo a likeness to--to your Padrone?" she
said, slowly.

"My Padrone!"

Gaspare's great eyes dropped before hers, and he stood looking on the
floor. She saw a deep flush cover his brown skin.

"I am sure you have noticed it, Gaspare," she said. "I can see you have.
Why did you not tell me?"

At that moment she felt angry with herself and almost angry with
him. Had he noticed this strange, this subtle resemblance between the
fisher-boy and the dead man at once, long before she had? Had he been
swifter to see such a thing than she?

"What do you mean, Signora? What are you talking about?"

He looked ugly.

"How can a fisher-boy, a nothing from Mergellina, look like my Padrone?"

Now he lifted his eyes, and they were fierce--or so she thought.

"Signora, how can you say such a thing?"

"Gaspare?" she exclaimed, astonished at his sudden vehemence.

"Signora--scusi! But--but there will never be another like my Padrone."

He opened the door and went quickly out of the room, and when the door
shut it was as if an iron door shut upon a furnace.

Hermione stood looking at this door. She drew a long breath.

"But he has seen it!" she said, aloud. "He has seen it."

And Emile?

Had she been a blind woman, she who had so loved the beauty that was
dust? She thought of Ve