nd gentle smile flitted over the aged face. Ercole held
out the small note, and the monk took it.

"Thank you," he said. "Shall I say the masses for a man or a woman?"

"As it pleases you, father," Ercole answered.

"Eh?" The old monk looked surprised.

"It does not matter," Ercole explained. "Is not a mass for a man good
for a woman also?"

"We say 'his' soul or 'her' soul, as the case may be, my son."

"Is that written in the book of the mass?" inquired Ercole
distrustfully.

"Yes. Also, most people tell us the baptismal name of the dead person."

"Must I do that too?" Ercole asked, by no means pleased.

"Not unless you like," the monk answered, looking at him with some
curiosity.

"But it is in the book of the mass that you must say 'his' or 'her'
soul?"

"Yes."

"Then the masses will not be good unless you say the right word." Ercole
paused a moment in deep thought, and looked down at his hat. "It will be
better to say the masses for a female," he said at length, without
meeting the monk's eyes.

"Very well," the latter answered. "I will say the first mass to-morrow."

"Thank you," said Ercole. "My respects!"

He made a sort of bow and hurried away, followed by Nino. The old monk
watched him thoughtfully, and shook his head once or twice, for he
guessed something of the truth, though by no means all.

CHAPTER XVI

"One might almost think that you wished to marry Aurora yourself," said
Corbario, with a sneer.

He was standing with his back to the fire in the great library of the
villa, for it was late autumn again; it was raining hard and the air was
raw and chilly.

"You may think what you please," Marcello answered, leaning back in his
deep leathern chair and taking up a book. "I am not going to argue with
you."

"Insufferable puppy," growled Folco, almost under his teeth; but
Marcello heard.

He rose instantly and faced the elder man without the slightest fear or
hesitation.

"If this were not my house, and you my guest, I would have you put out
of doors by the servants," he said, in a tone Corbario had never heard
before. "As it is, I only advise you to go before I lose my temper
altogether."

Corbario backed till his heels were against the fender, and tried to
smile.

"My dear Marcello!" he protested. "What nonsense is this? You know I am
not in earnest!"

"I am," said Marcello quietly enough, but not moving.

The half-invalid boy was not a boy any longer, nor an inva