his face. "Tell me--would you have come to me?"

It is only by a strong effort that Nobili can restrain himself
from folding Enrica in his arms and in one burning kiss burying the
remembrance of the miserable past. But he trembles lest by offending
her the tender flower before him may never again expand to the ardor
of his love. If Fra Pacifico has not by his arguments already shaken
Nobili's conviction of the righteousness of his own conduct, the sight
of Enrica utterly overcomes him.

"Deceive you!" he exclaims, approaching her and seizing her hands
which she did not withdraw--"deceive you! How little you read my
heart!"

He holds her soft hands firmly in his--he covers them with kisses.
Enrica feels the tender pressure of his lips pass through her whole
frame. But, can she trust him?

"Did I not love you enough?" she asks, looking into his face. She
gently disengages her hands from his grasp. There is no reproach in
her look, but infinite sorrow. "Can I believe you?" And the soft blue
eyes rest upon him full of pathetic pleading.

An expression of despair comes into Nobili's bright face. How can
he answer her? How can he satisfy her when he himself has shaken her
trust? Alas! would the golden past never come again? The past, tinted
with the passion of ardent summer?

"Believe me?" he cries, in a tone of wildest passion. "Can you ask
me?"

As he speaks he leans over her. Love is in his voice--his eyes--his
whole attitude. Would she not understand him? Would she reject him?

Enrica draws back--she raises her hand in protest.

"Let me again"--Nobili is following her closely--"let me implore your
forgiveness of my unmanly conduct."

She presses her hands to her bosom as if in pain, but not a sound
comes to her lips.

"Believe me," he urges, "I have been driven mad by the marchesa! It is
my only excuse."

"Am I?" Enrica answers. "Have I not suffered enough from my aunt?
What had she to do between you and me? Did I love you less because
she hated you? Listen, Nobili"--Enrica with difficulty commands her
voice--"from the first time we met in the cathedral I gave myself to
you--you--you only."

"But, Enrica--love--you consented to leave me. You sent Fra Pacifico
to say so."

The thought that Enrica had so easily resigned him still rankled in
Nobili's heart. Spite of himself, there is bitterness in his tone.

Enrica is standing aloof from him. The light of the lamp strikes upon
her golden hair, her downc