othing but the present and its novel
joys. She had never heeded the future--she did not heed it now.

One morning as she sat at his side by the open window, through which
stole the balmy air of the forest laden with the intoxicating perfume of
a thousand wild, intensely sweet flowers, Giovanni suddenly took her
brown hand, covering it with passionate kisses. The girl did not resist,
did not withdraw her hand from his; she did not even tremble, though a
slight glow came into her cheeks, making her look like a very Circe.

"Annunziata," said Giovanni, in a low voice scarcely above a whisper,
"do you care for me?"

"Care for you, Tonio?" replied the girl, gazing sweetly into his glowing
and agitated countenance. "Oh! yes! I care a great deal for you!"

He threw his arm about her neck, and, as his hand lay upon her shapely
shoulder, a magnetic thrill shot through him like a sudden shock from a
powerful electric battery. Annunziata did not seek to withdraw herself
from his warm embrace, and he drew her to him with tightening clasp
until her full, palpitating bosom rested against his breast. Her
tempting red lips, slightly parted, were upturned; he placed his upon
them in a long, lingering, delirious kiss. Then the color deepened in
her cheeks, and she gently disengaged herself. She did not, however,
avert her eyes, but gazed into his with a look of mute inquiry. All this
was new to her, and the more delicious because of its entire novelty.

"Neither my father, nor my brother, nor my dead mother ever kissed me
like that!" she said, artlessly.

Giovanni was enraptured; the girl's innocence was absolutely marvelous;
he had never dreamed that such innocence existed upon earth. Was she
really what she appeared?

"Annunziata," he said, abruptly, his heart beating furiously and his
breath coming thick and fast, "you have never experienced love, or you
would know the meaning of that kiss!"

"Love?" answered the girl, opening her large, lustrous eyes widely. "Oh!
yes, I have felt love. I love my father and Lorenzo, I love--everybody!"

"But not as you would love a young man, who would throw himself at your
pretty feet and pour out the treasures of his heart to you!"

"No young man has ever done that," said Annunziata, smiling and nestling
closer to him.

"But some one will before long, perhaps before many minutes! How would
you like me to be that one!" cried the Viscount, in his headlong
fashion.

"I cannot tell," answe