of his horse, in acknowledgment of
the homage that was universally paid him, though he sat his steed
proudly, as if conscious that such bearing befitted the descendant of
one of Italia's noblest families. In years he had numbered scarcely more
than a quarter of a century, and yet on his beautiful features might be
traced a shade, which told of perplexity or care.

Turning down a narrow and not much frequented way, which branched off
from the main road, a mile or two distant from his residence, he urged
his horse to a fast pace, and at length came in view of one of those
pretty places, partly mansion, partly cottage, and partly temple, at
that period to be seen in Italy; but which we _now_ meet with rarely
save in pictures. Fastening the bridle of his charger to a tree, he
walked towards the house, and passing down the colonade, which ran along
the south side of it, entered one of the rooms through the open window.

A lady, young and beautiful, sat there alone. She had delicate features,
and a fair, open countenance, the complexion of which resembled more
that of an English than an Italian one, inasmuch as a fine, transparent
color was glowing on the cheeks. The expression of her eyes was mild and
sweet, and her hair, of a chestnut brown, fell in curls upon her neck,
according to the fashion of the times. She started visibly at sight of
the count, and her tongue gave utterance to words, but what she
apparently knew not. "So you have returned, signor?"

"At last, Gina," was the count's answer, as he threw his arm around her
slender waist, and essayed to draw her affectionately towards him.

"Unhand me, Count di Visinara!" she impetuously exclaimed, sliding from
his embrace, and standing apart, her whole form heaving with agitation.

He stood irresolute; aghast at this reception from her, who was his
early and dearest love. "Are you out of your senses?" was his
exclamation.

"No, but I soon shall be. And I have prayed to Heaven that insanity may
fall upon me rather than experience the wretchedness of these last few
days."

"My love, my love, what mean you?"

"_My love!_ you call _me_ your love, Count di Visinara! Be silent,
hypocrite! I know you now. Cajoled that I have been in listening to you
so long!"

"Gina!"

"And so the honorable Count di Visinara has amused his leisure hours in
making love to Gina Montani!" she cried, vehemently. "The lordly
chieftain who----"

"Be silent, Gina!" he interrupted. "Befor