him. But there had been neither motion
nor sensation, and all at once he had felt that it was all over,
forever.

Veronica looked at him quickly, and he was watching her face. He saw no
contradiction there of what he had said, but only a little surprise that
he should have said it.

"You may not be able to walk as soon as we thought," she answered
gently. "But that is no reason why you should never walk at all."

"I am afraid it is," he said.

She stroked his hand, as she often did, and her eyes wandered from his
face to the other side of the room, and back again.

"I have been trying very hard to get well," he continued presently.
"Harder than any one knows."

"I know," Veronica answered. "You are so brave!"

"Brave? No. I am desperate. Do you think I do not know what it must be
to you, to be tied to a hopeless cripple like me?"

"Tied? I?" She spoke bravely, for it would have been a deadly cruelty
not to contradict him. "It is for you," she went on. "You must not think
of me as tied to you, dear, as you call it! I did it gladly, of my own
free will, and I knew what I was doing."

"Ah no!" he answered sadly. "You could not have known what you were
doing, then. Your whole life has only saved half of mine."

A chill of fear shot through Veronica's heart.

"Dear," she said anxiously and nervously. "Have I done anything to make
you talk like this?"

"Yes, love, you have done much," he answered, with a tender, regretful
look. "No--do not start! I am sorry that you did not understand. It is
because you do so much, because you give your whole life for my wretched
existence, because I know what my hours of happiness cost you now and
will cost you hereafter. That is why I say these things. It would have
been so much easier and simpler if I had died with my hand in yours,
that day, when Don Teodoro married us. Veronica--tell me--did he say all
the words? I fainted, I think."

"Yes," answered Veronica, still pale. "He said all the words."

"And did he give us the benediction?"

"Yes, he gave us the benediction."

Gianluca sighed.

"Then it cannot be undone, dear," he said softly. "You must forgive me."

"I would not have it undone, Gianluca."

And before that great unselfishness, Veronica bowed her head down, until
her lips kissed his hands. But as she touched them, she heard the door
open, and instantly she was erect again, and trying to smile. Taquisara
came in.

Veronica rose, for she felt that she co