emotion, laughing and crying, full of gratitude, but uncertain as
to her state of mind, as to how he should regulate his conduct; she more
composed, extremely pale, and serious. "God bless you! God bless you!"
he kept repeating, as they turned towards the hotel. Then Franco
overwhelmed her with questions, first about her journey and the passing
of the frontier, and then about Uncle Piero. When he mentioned the
uncle, Luisa raised her head and said: "Look!" The old man was at the
window waving his handkerchief and calling out his welcome in a ringing
voice. "Oh!" cried Franco in amazement, and he ran forward.

Uncle Piero was waiting for him on the landing, his face wearing an
expression of satisfaction that seemed to spread all over his peaceful
breast. "How are you, my boy?" said he, taking both his hands and
shaking them heartily, but, nevertheless, holding him at a distance. He
did not want kisses, feeling that at such a moment they would mean
thanks; but he could not hold out against Franco's impetuosity. "Did you
fancy a lady of the house of Maironi could travel without a courier?"
said he, when he had extricated himself from the young man's arms.
"Moreover, I came to enlist in the _Bersaglieri_!" And the man who had
said he was tired started downstairs, saying he was going to order
dinner.

There was no sofa in their room. Franco drew Luisa to a seat on the bed,
and sat down beside her, encircling her shoulders with his arm. He could
not talk to her, could only keep on repeating: "I thank you! I thank
you!" as he lavished eager caresses, eager kisses, and tender names upon
her. Luisa did not respond in any way, but trembled violently with bowed
head. Presently he checked himself, and, taking her head in his hands
like some sacred thing, fell to touching with his lips the white hairs
he saw here and there. She knew he was searching out the white hairs,
understood those timid kisses, and was moved. She felt her heart of ice
melting, and, seized with terror, struggled to defend herself more
against her own emotions than against Franco. "You don't know," she
said, "how cold my heart is. I did not even want to come, did not want
to leave Maria or give you the pain of finding me in this state. But I
came on Uncle Piero's account. He was determined to set out alone, and
that I could not allow."

When she had pronounced these cruel words she felt Franco's lips
withdrawn from her hair, felt his arm forsake her shoulders.