ether side by side among
the woods, lingering by flowing streams; or in the rich shade of
purple vine-bowers; or in mossy caves, shaded by tall ferns, hid on
the mountain-side, and let time and the world roll by. This was the
life she dreamed of. Could any grief be there?

"Yes, love," Nobili answered to her question. "I must return to Lucca
to-night. I started on the instant, as the cavaliere knows. Before I
go, however, all must be settled about our marriage, and the contract
signed. I will take no denial."

Nobili spoke with the determination that was in him. Enrica's heart
gave a bound. "The contract!" She had never thought of that. "The
contract and the marriage!"--"Both close at hand!--Then the life she
dreamed of must come true in very earnest!"

The cavaliere looked doubtingly at Fra Pacifico. Fra Pacifico shrugged
his big shoulders, looked back again at Cavaliere Trenta, and smiled
rather grimly. There was always a sense of suppressed power, moral and
physical, about Fra Pacifico. In conversation he had a way of leaving
the burden of small talk to others, and of reserving himself for
special occasions; but when he spoke he must be listened to.

"Quick work, my dear count," was all the priest said to Nobili in
answer. "Do you think you can insure the marchesa's consent?" Now he
addressed the cavaliere.

"Oh, my friend will be reasonable, no doubt. After last night,
she must consent." The cavaliere was always ready to put the best
construction upon every thing. "If she raises any obstacles, I think I
shall be able to remove them."

"Consent!" cried Nobili, fiercely echoing back the word, "she must
consent--she will be mad to refuse."

"Well--well--we shall see.--You, Count Nobili, have done all to make
it sure. The terms of the contract (I have heard of them from Fra
Pacifico) are princely." A look from Count Nobili stopped Trenta from
saying more.

"Now, Enrica," and the cavaliere turned and took her arm, "come in and
give me some breakfast. An old man of eighty must eat, if he means to
dance at weddings."

"You, Nobili, must come with me," said Fra Pacifico, laying his hand
on the count's shoulder. "We will wait the cavaliere's summons to
return here over a bottle of the marchesa's best vintage, and a cutlet
cooked by Maria. She is my best cook; I have one for every day in the
week."

So they parted--Trenta with Enrica descending flight after flight
of steps, leading from terrace to terrace, down