d her hand. He drew closer to her, himself more diffident in
the moment of success than he had ever been when he anticipated failure;
she was so unlike any woman he had ever known before. Very gently he put
his arm about her, and drew her to him.

"My beloved--at last," he whispered, as her head sank upon his shoulder.

Then with a sudden movement she sprang to her height, and for one instant
gazed upon him. Her whole being was transfigured in the might of her
passion: her dark face was luminously pale, her lips almost white, and
from her eyes there seemed to flash a blazing fire. For one instant she
gazed upon him, and then her arms went round his neck, and she clasped
him fiercely to her breast.

"Ah, Giovanni," she cried, passionately, "you do not know what love
means!"

A moment later her arms dropped from him; she turned and buried her face
in her hands, leaning against the high stone parapet of the tower. She
was not weeping, but her face was white, and her bosom heaved with
quick and strong-drawn breath.

Giovanni went to her side and took her strongly in his right arm, and
again her head rested upon his shoulder.

"It is too soon--too soon," she murmured. "But how can I help it? I love
you so that there is no counting of time. It seems years since we met
last night, and I thought it would be years before I told you. Oh,
Giovanni, I am so happy! Is it possible that you love me as I love you?"

It is a marvellous thing to see how soon two people who love each other
learn the gentle confidence that only love can bring. A few moments later
Giovanni and Corona were slowly pacing the platform, and his arm was
about her waist and her hand in his.

"Do you know," she was saying, "I used to wonder whether you would keep
your word, and never try to see me. The days were so long at
Astrardente."

"Not half so long as at Saracinesca," he answered. "I was going to call
my aqueduct the Bridge of Sighs; I will christen it now the Spring of
Love."

"I must go and see it to-morrow," said she.

"Or the next day--"

"The next day!" she exclaimed, with a happy laugh. "Do you think I am
going to stay--"

"For ever," interrupted Giovanni. "We have a priest here, you know,--he
can marry us to-morrow, and then you need never go away."

Corona's face grew grave.

"We must not talk of that yet," she said, gently, "even in jest."

"No; you are right. Forgive me," he answered; "I forget many things--it
seems to me I ha