rately ashamed. But
for all that, she could not repress the glad delight she felt at
knowing that he was there after all; that, if he had kept his word, in
avoiding her, he had, nevertheless, also fulfilled his intention of
spending the summer in Saracinesca. He had even been there since Easter,
and the story of his going to the North had been a mere invention of the
newspapers. She could not understand his conduct, nor why he had gone to
Paris--a fact attested by people who knew him. It had probably been for
some matter of business--that excuse which, in a woman's mind, explains
almost any sudden journey a man may undertake. But he was there in the
castle now, and her heart was satisfied.

The men packed the things in the basket, and Corona was helped upon her
mule. Slowly the party descended the steep path that grew broader and
more practicable as they neared the bottom; there the carriage awaited
her, and soon she was bowling along the smooth road towards home, leaving
far behind her the mounted guards, the peasants, and her slow-paced mule.
The sun was low when the carriage rolled under the archway of
Astrardente. Sister Gabrielle said Corona looked much the better for her
excursion, and she added that she must be very strong to bear such
fatigue so well. And the next day--and for many days--the Sister noticed
the change in her hostess's manner, and promised herself that if the
Duchessa became uneasy again she would advise another day among the
hills, so wonderful was the effect of a slight change from the ordinary
routine of her life.

That night old Saracinesca and his son sat at dinner in a wide hall of
their castle. The faithful Pasquale served them as solemnly as he was
used to do in Rome. This evening he spoke again. He had ventured no
remark since he had informed them of the Duca d'Astrardente's death.

"I beg your Excellencies' pardon," he began, adopting his usual formula
of apologetic address.

"Well, Pasquale, what is it?" asked old Saracinesca.

"I did not know whether your Excellency was aware that the Duchessa
d'Astrardente had been here to-day."

"What?" roared the Prince.

"You must be mad, Pasquale?" exclaimed Giovanni in a low voice.

"I beg your Excellencies' pardon if I am wrong, but this is how I know.
Gigi Secchi, the peasant from Aquaviva in the lower forest, brought a bag
of corn to the mill to-day, and he told the miller, and the miller told
Ettore, and Ettore told Nino, and Nino to