t, and so soon as she could she
modified her widow's weeds into something less solemnly; black. It
was impossible to wear funeral robes on the eve of her second marriage;
and the world had declared that she had shown an extraordinary degree of
virtue in mourning so long for a death which every one considered so
highly appropriate. Corona, however, felt differently. To her, her dead
husband and the man she now so wholly loved belonged to two totally
distinct classes of men. Her love, her marriage with Giovanni, seemed so
natural a consequence of her being left alone--so absolutely removed
from her former life--that, on the eve of her wedding, she could almost
wish that poor old Astrardente were alive to look as her friend upon her
new-found happiness.

She welcomed Giovanni with a bright smile. She had not expected him that
evening, for he had been with her all the afternoon. She sprang to her
feet and came quickly to meet him. She almost unconsciously took the
morocco case from his hands, not looking at it, and hardly noticing what
she did.

"My father has come back. It is all settled!" cried Giovanni.

"So soon! He must have flown!" said she, making him sit down.

"Yes, he has never rested, and he has found out all about it. It is a
most extraordinary story. By the by, he sends you affectionate messages,
and begs you to accept these diamonds. They were my mother's," he added,
his voice softening and changing. Corona understood his tone, and perhaps
realised, too, how very short the time now was. She opened the case
carefully.

"They are very beautiful; your mother wore them, Giovanni?" She looked
lovingly at him, and then bending down kissed the splendid coronet as
though in reverence of the dead Spanish woman who had borne the man
she loved. Whereat Giovanni stole to her side, and kissed her own dark
hair very tenderly.

"I was to tell you that there are a great many more," he said, "which my
father will offer you on the wedding--day." Then he kneeled down beside
her, and raising the crown from its case, set it with both his hands upon
her diadem of braids.

"My princess!" he exclaimed. "How beautiful you are!" He took the great
necklace, and clasped it about her white throat. "Of course," he said,
"you have such splendid jewels of your own, perhaps you hardly care for
these and the rest. But I like to see you with them--it makes me feel
that you are really mine."

Corona smiled happily, and gently took the