ly."

"Yes!" said Maulear, "our hearts are lost when we behold you."

"Marquis," said Aminta, "I do not know what the future reserves for us;
I however repeat that I will always be sincere with you. Do not to-day
ask me what I cannot give."

"What can you give me?" said Maulear in despair.

"Hope," said Aminta, with a blush, "that is all--"

Signora Rovero entered. Rejection and obstacles could not but surprise a
man used as Maulear was to rapid triumphs and easy conquests. He was now
seriously in love, and passion had become a link of his life. Suffering
as he was from the uncertainty to which the reply of Aminta subjected
him, he could not but admire her prudence and modest reserve, which, as
it were, placed her heart beneath the aegis of reason. Besides, if, as
Madame de Stael says, the last idea of a woman is always centred in the
last word she utters, Aminta, by what she had last said, had delighted
Maulear. She had said "_Hope_."

During the next day and the next day after, Signora Rovero and her
daughter increased their attention to Maulear, lest he should become
weary of their solitude. This solitude to Maulear was elysium. A
pleasant intimacy grew up between Aminta and the Marquis, every hour
revealing a new grace to him, as he fancied the hour drew near when the
ice of her heart would melt, and she would find an image of her
sentiments in him. One circumstance, however, troubled Maulear, and
aroused his jealousy. Towards the end of the second day, he sat in the
saloon, leaning on his elbow, and looking with admiration through one of
the windows at the purple and magnificent Italian sun. Aminta did not
know that Maulear was in the saloon, and when she came in did not see
him. She had a letter in her hand. "_From him_," said she, as she
hastily unsealed it; "what does he say? _Dear_ Gaetano, he has not
forgotten me."

At the name Gaetano, Maulear turned around quickly, and under the
influence of much emotion, stood before her. She seemed a little
surprised and disconcerted, and hid the letter in her bosom. The words
died away on the Marquis's lips, and he asked no question. His original
distrust returned, and he resolved to watch. On that evening Maulear was
less gay and less entertaining than he had been on the previous one. He
observed that Aminta too was thoughtful. She has been unable, said he,
to read her letter, and that is the cause of her uneasiness. For a few
moments the young girl left the room