ok the candle and went into Uncle Piero's room. He was already awake.
Franco said good-bye to him, and then proposed to Luisa that they also
take leave of each other in the privacy of their own room. In her face
and voice there was an expression of grave and painful stupor. She
displayed no agitation, and did not weep, but embraced and kissed her
husband as one in a dream, and, still in a dazed state, followed him
downstairs. Did a flash from the thought that was filling her soul pass
into his? If so, it happened in the little hotel parlour, while he was
taking his coffee, his wife seated opposite him. He seemed suddenly to
discover something in that glance, in that expression, for he paused to
study her, cup in hand, while ineffable tenderness, anxiety and emotion
overspread his face. She evidently had no wish to speak, but he longed
to do so. A hidden word quivered in all the muscles of his face, and
shone in his eyes, but his mouth did not venture to utter it.

Hand in hand they went down to the landing-stage, and leaned against the
wall where Luisa had leaned the day before. When they heard the noise of
the paddles, they embraced for the last time and said good-bye without
tears, troubled rather by the hidden thought harboured by both than
afflicted by the separation. The steamer came in noisily, the ropes were
flung ashore and made fast. A bell rang. One kiss more! "God bless you!"
said Franco, and hurried on board.

She lingered as long as she could hear the noise of the paddles, as the
steamer glided towards Stressa. Then she returned to the hotel, sank
upon the bed, and sat there as one turned to stone, engrossed in the
idea, in the instinctive certainty, that maternity awaited her a second
time.

Although this was precisely what she had so greatly feared it cannot be
said that now she was grieved. All other sentiments were subdued by the
wonder of listening to a strong, inward voice, that was so clear and
still so inexplicable. She was dazed. Since Maria's death she had firmly
believed that the Book of Destiny could contain nothing new for her,
that certain secret fibres of her heart were dead. And now a mysterious
voice was speaking within that heart, saying: Know that one page in the
book of your destiny is finished, and the leaf has been turned. For you
there is still a future of intense living. The drama that you believed
had come to an end at the second act, is to continue, and if I Myself
announce it to