rogation.

Orsino glanced at Maria Consuelo as though imploring her permission to
take his leave, but her face was impenetrable, calm and indifferent.

Del Ferice understood perfectly what was taking place, but he found a
moment while Orsino hesitated. If the latter had known how completely he
was in Del Ferice's power throughout the little scene, he would have
then and there thrown over his financial schemes in favour of Maria
Consuelo. But Del Ferice's quiet, friendly manner did not suggest
despotism, and he did not suffer Orsino's embarrassment to last more
than five seconds.

"I have a little proposition to make," said the fat count, turning
again to Maria Consuelo. "My wife and I are alone this evening. Will you
not come and dine with us, Madame? And you, Don Orsino, will you not
come too? We shall just make a party of four, if you will both come."

"I shall be enchanted!" exclaimed Maria Consuelo without hesitation.

"I shall be delighted!" answered Orsino with an alacrity which surprised
himself.

"At eight then," said Del Ferice, shaking hands with him again, and in a
moment he was gone.

Orsino was too much confused, and too much delighted at having escaped
so easily from his difficulty to realise the importance of the step he
was taking in going to Del Fence's house, or to ask himself why the
latter had so opportunely extended the invitation. He sat down in his
place with a sigh of relief.

"You have compromised yourself for ever," said Maria Consuelo with a
scornful laugh. "You, the blackest of the Black, are to be numbered
henceforth with the acquaintances of Count Del Ferice and Donna Tullia."

"What difference does it make? Besides, I could not have done
otherwise."

"You might have refused the dinner."

"I could not possibly have done that. To accept was the only way out of
a great difficulty."

"What difficulty?" asked Maria Consuelo relentlessly.

Orsino was silent, wondering how he could explain, as explain he must,
without offending her.

"You should not do such things," she said suddenly. "I will not always
forgive you."

A gleam of light which, indeed, promised little forgiveness, flashed in
her eyes.

"What things?" asked Orsino.

"Do not pretend that you think me so simple," she said, in a tone of
irritation. "You and Del Ferice come here almost at the same moment.
When he goes, you show the utmost anxiety to go too. Of course you have
agreed to meet here. It is evident. You