gh of Regina, but he
was sure that she could have no bad motive in wishing to see the young
girl. Yet, from a social point of view, it was not exactly an easy thing
to propose, and the Contessa would have a right to be offended at the
mere suggestion that her daughter should speak to "Consalvi's Regina";
and there could not be anything clandestine in the meeting, if Aurora
consented to it. Kalmon was too deeply attached to the Contessa herself
to be willing to risk her displeasure, or, indeed, to do anything of
which she would not approve.

He went to her house by the Forum of Trajan, and he found her at home.
It was late in the afternoon, and the lamp was lighted in the little
drawing-room, which did not seem at all shabby to Kalmon's accustomed
eyes and not very exigent taste. The Contessa was reading an evening
paper before the fire. She put out her hand to the Professor.

"It is a bad business," she said, glancing at the newspaper, which had a
long account of Corbario's arrest and of the murder of his old
accomplice. "Poor Marcello!"

"Poor Marcello! Yes, indeed! I'm sorry for him. There is something more
than is in the papers, and more than I have written to you and told you.
Regina has the perniciosa fever, complicated with pneumonia, and is not
likely to live."

"I am sorry," the Contessa answered. "I am very sorry for her. But after
all, compared with what Marcello has learned about his mother's
death--and other things Corbario did--"

She stopped, implying by her tone that even if Regina died, that would
not be the greatest of Marcello's misfortunes. Besides, she had long
foreseen that the relations of the two could not last, and the simplest
solution, and the happiest one for the poor devoted girl, was that she
should die before her heart was broken. Maddalena dell' Armi had often
wished that her own fate had been as merciful.

"Yes," Kalmon answered. "You are right in that. But Regina has made a
rather strange request. It was very unexpected, and perhaps I did wrong
to tell her that I would do my best to satisfy her. I don't think she
will live, and I felt sorry for her. That is why I came to you. It
concerns Aurora."

"Aurora?" The Contessa was surprised.

"Yes. The girl knows she is dying, and wishes very much to see Aurora
for a moment. I suppose it was weak of me to give her any hope."

The Contessa dropped her newspaper and looked into the fire thoughtfully
before she answered.

"You and I a