believed, she had said all that a maiden could to show him that she
would listen willingly. She had said too much, and she felt ashamed and
hurt, almost resentful. He was not a boy. If he loved her, he could find
words to tell her so, and should have found them, for she had helped him
to her utmost. Suddenly, she almost hated him, for what his silence made
her feel, and she told herself that she was glad he had not dared to
speak, for she did not love him at all. It was all a sickening mistake,
it was all a miserable little dream; she wished that he would go away
and leave her to herself. Not that she should shed a single tear! She
was far too angry for that, but his presence, so near her, reminded her
of what she had done. He must have seen, all through their talk, that
she was trying to make him tell his love, and there was nothing to tell.
Of course he would despise her. That was natural, but she had a right to
hate him for it, and she would, with all her heart! Her thoughts all
came together in a tumult of disgust and resentment. If Zorzi did not go
away presently, she would go away herself. She was almost resolved to
get up and leave the garden, when the door opened.

"Zorzi!" It was Beroviero's voice.

Aristarchi already stood in the doorway taking leave of Beroviero with,
many oily protestations of satisfaction in having made his
acquaintance. Zorzi went forward to accompany the Greek to the door.

"I shall never forget that I have had the honour of being received by
the great artist himself," said Aristarchi, who held his big cap in his
hand and was bowing low on the threshold.

"The pleasure has been all on my side," returned Beroviero courteously.

"On the contrary, quite on the contrary," protested his guest, backing
away and then turning to go.

Zorzi walked beside him, on his left. As they reached the entrance to
the corridor Aristarchi turned once more, and made an elaborate bow,
sweeping the ground with his cap, for Beroviero had remained at the door
till he should be out of sight. He bent his head, making a gracious
gesture with his hand, and went in as the Greek disappeared. Zorzi
followed the latter, showing him out.

Marietta saw the door close after her father, and she knew that Zorzi
must come back through the garden in a few moments. She bent her head
over her beads as she heard his step, and pretended not to see him. When
he came near her he stood still a moment, but she would not look up, a