leader of the serenade, Aurora felt no more
uncertainty. Money had so often gone from her hand to his. She with
generous ease, as if passing a box of candy to children, tendered him
some three or four times as much as to the others.

But there Italo showed what he was made of. He took a step backward and
stood with soldierly rigidity, one hand held with the palm toward her,
like a shield and defense against her intention to belittle him and his
token of homage by a reward. His look said, and said dramatically, that
her thought of him did him wrong; it said that he was ashamed of her for
not knowing better. Yet there was no real dissatisfaction in it, since
her want of delicacy permitted the exhibition of his delicacy, and
afforded him the opportunity to make that gesture....

Her hand dropped, her whole being drooped and confusedly apologized.
Then the hand that had interposed between them, uncompromising as a hot
flat-iron, changed outline and pointed at a half faded rose pinned on
her breast. Quickly she unfastened it and held it toward the
outstretched hand. It was taken, it was held to Italo's lips while he
made one of those deep bows that bent him double; then the stem of the
rose was pulled through his buttonhole and secured with a pin from
Aurora's dress. The great little man shook his locks and went on to the
next subject.

Aurora was impressed. She was pleased with Italo in a new way, and said
to herself that she must make him some rich little, but unobjectionable
little, gift to remember this occasion by, a gold pencil, or a pearl
scarf-pin, or a cigar case to be proud of.

She went to bed with her head full of serenade and serenaders, her head
all lighted up inside with the glory of having been the object of a
tribute so flattering. When after reading her chapter she blew out the
candle, she knew that to-night she should sleep, and make up for the two
bad nights just passed. If Gerald were so foolish as to feel annoyed and
wish to stay away, he would just have to feel annoyed and stay away
until he felt different. His mood couldn't help wearing off in time. But
it did seem to her extraordinary that even now, after knowing him so
long, she could tell so little of the workings of Gerald's mind. All, of
course, because he was--such a considerable part of him--a foreigner.

* * * * *

Aurora was one of those healthy sleepers who have no care to guard
themselves ag