he found Miss
Kate, in her brother's sitting-room. She had come in by appointment from
the villa, and was going with the others to seek the royal palace, which
she had not yet had an opportunity to inspect It was proposed (not by
Kate), and presently arranged, that Captain Benyon should go with
them, and he accordingly walked over marble floors for half an hour,
exchanging conscious commonplaces with the woman he loved. For
this truth had rounded itself during those nine days of absence; he
discovered that there was nothing particularly sweet in his life when
once Kate Theory had been excluded from it He had stayed away to keep
himself from falling in love with her; but this expedient was in itself
illuminating, for he perceived that, according to the vulgar adage, he
was locking the stable door after the horse had been stolen. As he
paced the deck of his ship and looked toward Posilippo, his tenderness
crystallized; the thick, smoky flame of a sentiment that knew itself
forbidden and was angry at the knowledge, now danced upon the fuel of
his good resolutions. The latter, it must be said, resisted, declined
to be consumed. He determined that he would see Kate Theory again, for
a time, just sufficient to bid her good-by, and to add a little
explanation. He thought of his explanation very lovingly, but it may
not strike the reader as a happy inspiration. To part from her dryly,
abruptly, without an allusion to what he might have said if everything
had been different,--that would be wisdom, of course, that would be
virtue, that would be the line of a practical man, of a man who kept
himself well in hand. But it would be virtue terribly unrewarded,--it
would be virtue too austere for a person who sometimes flattered himself
that he had taught himself stoicism. The minor luxury tempted him
irresistibly, since the larger--that of happy love--was denied him; the
luxury of letting the girl know that it would not be an accident--oh,
not at all--that they should never meet again. She might easily think it
was, and thinking it was would doubtless do her no harm. But this would
n't give him his pleasure,--the Platonic satisfaction of expressing to
her at the same time his belief that they might have made each other
happy, and the necessity of his renunciation. That, probably, wouldn't
hurt her either, for she had given him no proof whatever that she cared
for him. The nearest approach to it was the way she walked beside him
now, s