impulsive gallantry.

"Very pretty of you!" and she withdrew her hand from his too fervent
clasp,--"I feel sorry for myself that I cannot rightly appreciate so
charming a compliment!"

"It is not a compliment"--he declared, vehemently; "It is a truth!"

Her eyes dwelt on him with a wistful kindness.

"You are what some people call 'a good fellow,' Giulio!" she said--"And
you deserve to be very happy. I hope you will be so! I want you to
prosper so that you may restore your grand old villa to its former
beauty,--I also want you to marry--and bring up a big family"--here she
laughed a little--"A family of sons and daughters who will be grateful
to you, and not waste every penny you give them--though that is the
modern way of sons and daughters."

She paused, smiling at his moody expression. "And you say everything is
ready?--the 'White Eagle' is prepared for flight?"

"She will leave the shed at a moment's touch"--he answered--"when YOU
supply the motive power!"

She nodded comprehensively, and thought a moment. "Come to me the day
after to-morrow"--she said--"You will then have your orders."

"Is it to be a long flight this time?" he asked.

"Not so long as to California!" she answered--"But long enough!"

With that she left him. And he betook himself to the air-shed where the
superb "White Eagle" rested all a-quiver for departure, palpitating, or
so it seemed to him, with a strange eagerness for movement which struck
him as unusual and "uncanny" in a mere piece of mechanism.

The next day moved on tranquilly. Morgana wrote many letters--and
varied this occupation by occasionally sitting in the loggia to talk
with Manella and Lady Kingswood, both of whom now seemed the natural
inhabitants of the Palazzo d'Oro. She spoke easily of her intended
air-trip,--so that they accepted her intention as a matter of course,
Manella only entreating--"Do not be long away!" her lovely, eloquent
eyes emphasising her appeal. Now and again the terrible cries of "There
shall be no more wars! There can be none! My Great Secret! I am Master
of the World!" rang through the house despite the closed doors,--cries
which they feigned not to hear, though Manella winced with pain, as at
a dagger thrust, each time the sounds echoed on the air.

And the night came,--mildly glorious, with a full moon shining in an
almost clear sky--clear save for little delicate wings of snowy cloud
drifting in the east like wandering shapes of birds that