s of our interview than to know what had
befallen her during the seventeen years which seemed an age to me.

I came to the stage-door, and I saw Therese standing at the top of the
stair. She told the door-keeper to let me pass; I went up and we stood
face to face. Dumb with surprise I took her hand and pressed it against
my heart.

"Know from that beating heart," said I, "all that I feel."

"I can't follow your example," said she, "but when I saw you I thought I
should have fainted. Unfortunately I am engaged to supper. I shall not
shut my eyes all night. I shall expect you at eight o'clock to-morrow
morning. Where are you staying?"

"At Dr. Vannini's."

"Under what name?"

"My own."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since yesterday."

"Are you stopping long in Florence?"

"As long as you like."

"Are you married?"

"No."

"Cursed be that supper! What an event! You must leave me now, I have to
go on. Good-bye till seven o'clock to-morrow."

She had said eight at first, but an hour sooner was no harm. I returned
to the theatre, and recollected that I had neither asked her name or
address, but I could find out all that easily. She was playing Mandane,
and her singing and acting were admirable. I asked a well-dressed young
man beside me what that admirable actress's name was.

"You have only come to Florence to-day, sir?"

"I arrived yesterday."

"Ah! well, then it's excusable. That actress has the same name as I have.
She is my wife, and I am Cirillo Palesi, at your service."

I bowed and was silent with surprise. I dared not ask where she lived,
lest he might think my curiosity impertinent. Therese married to this
handsome young man, of whom, of all others, I had made enquiries about
her! It was like a scene in a play.

I could bear it no longer. I longed to be alone and to ponder over this
strange adventure at my ease, and to think about my visit to Therese at
seven o'clock the next morning. I felt the most intense curiosity to see
what the husband would do when he recognized me, and he was certain to do
so, for he had looked at me attentively as he spoke. I felt that my old
flame for Therese was rekindled in my heart, and I did not know whether I
was glad or sorry at her being married.

I left the opera-house and told my footman to call my carriage.

"You can't have it till nine o'clock, sir; it was so cold the coachman
sent the horses back to the stable."

"We will return on foot, then."