peacock voices, and the rapid utterance, which
in Italy are supposed to mark a special welcome. Strange that in
the land of song the talking voices of women should be so harsh and
strident! Yet so it is.

"How long is it since we have seen you, Count Nobili?" It was the
sad-faced marchesa who spoke, and tried to smile a welcome to him. "I
have to thank you for many inquiries, and all sorts of luxuries sent
to my dear child. But we expected you. You never came."

The two sisters echoed, "You never came."

Nera did not speak then, but when they had finished, she rose from the
sofa and stood before Nobili drawn up to her full height, radiant
in sovereign beauty. "I have to thank you most." As Nera spoke, her
cheeks flushed, and she dropped her hand into his. It was a simple
act, but full of purpose as Nera did it. Nera intended it should be
so. She reseated herself. As his eye met hers, Nobili grew crimson.
The twilight and the shaded lamp hid this in part, but Nera observed
it, and noted it for future use.

Count Nobili placed himself beside the marchesa.

"I am overwhelmed with shame," he said. "What you say is too true.
I had intended coming. Indeed, I waited until your daughter"--and he
glanced at Nera--"could receive me, and satisfy me herself she was not
hurt. I longed to make my penitent excuses for the accident."

"Oh! it was nothing," said Nera, with a smile, answering for her
mother.

"What I suffered, no words can tell," continued, Nobili. "Even now I
shudder to think of it--to be the cause--"

"No, not the cause," answered Marchesa Boccarini.

The elder sisters echoed--

"Not the cause."

"It was the ribbon," continued the marchesa. "Nera was entangled with
the ribbon when she rose; she did not know it."

"I ought to have held her up," returned Nobili with a glance at Nera,
who, with a kind of queenly calm, looked him full in the face with her
bold, black eyes.

"I assure you, marchesa, it was the horror of what I had done that
kept me from calling on you."

This was not true, and Nera knew it was not true. Nobili had not come,
because he dreaded his weakness and her power. Nobili had not come,
because he doted on Enrica to that excess, a thought alien to her
seemed then to him a crime. What folly! Now he knew Enrica better! All
that was changed.

"We have felt very grateful," went on to say the marchesa, "I assure
you, Count Nobili, very grateful."

The poor lady was much exercised in spi