s has been rather a strain. But I oughtn't to have
told her!--or anybody! I see, of course, what Kitty meant. It is
incredible that Mary should breathe a word--or if she did that it should
reach that man. But I have just sent her a note to Danieli's to warn her
in the strongest way.

"Beloved son--if, indeed, we save her--we will be very good to her, you
and I. We will remember her bringing up and her inheritance. I will be
more loving--more like Christ. I hope He will forgive me for my
harshness in the past.... My William!--I love you so! God be merciful to
you and to your poor Kitty!"

* * * * *

"Will the signora have her dinner outside or in the <i>salle-a-manger?"</i>

The question was addressed to Kitty by a little Italian waiter belonging
to the Albergo San Zeno at Verona, who stood bent before her, his white
napkin under his arm.

"Out here, please--and for my maid also."

The speaker moved wearily towards the low wall which bounded the foaming
Adige, and looked across the river. Far away the Alps that look down on
Garda glistened under the stars; the citadel on its hill, the houses
across the river were alive with lights; to the left the great mediaeval
bridge rose, a dark, ponderous mass, above the torrents of the Adige.
Overhead, the little outside restaurant was roofed with twining
vine-stems from which the leaves had fallen; colored lights twinkled
among them and on the white tables underneath. The night was mild and
still, and a veiled moon was just rising over the town of Juliet.

"Blanche!"

"Yes, my lady?"

"Bring a chair, Blanchie, and come and sit by me."

The little maid did as she was told, and Kitty slipped her hand into
hers with a long sigh.

"Are you very tired, my lady?"

"Yes--but don't talk!"

The two sat silent, clinging to each other.

A step on the cobble-stones disturbed them. Blanche looked up, and saw a
gentleman issuing from a lane which connected the narrow quay whereon
stood the old Albergo San Zeno with one of the main streets of Verona.

There was a cry from Kitty. The stranger paused--looked--advanced. The
little maid rose, half fierce, half frightened.

"Go, Blanche, go!" said Kitty, panting; "go back into the hotel."

"Not unless your ladyship wishes me to leave you," said the girl,
firmly.

"Go at once!" Kitty repeated, with a peremptory gesture. She herself
rose from her seat, and with one hand resting on the table awaited