here was a short
pause, during which he looked at her. She did not seem well. Her face
was pale and her eyes were deep with shadows. Even her auburn hair had
lost something of its gloss. Yet she did not look older than before, a
fact which proved her to be even younger than Orsino had imagined.
Saving the look of fatigue and suffering in her face, Maria Consuelo had
changed less than Orsino during the winter, and she realised the fact at
a glance. A determined purpose, hard work, the constant exertion of
energy and will, and possibly, too, the giving up to a great extent of
gambling and strong drinks, had told in Orsino's face and manner as a
course of training tells upon a lazy athlete. The bold black eyes had a
more quiet glance, the well-marked features had acquired strength and
repose, the lean jaw was firmer and seemed more square. Even
physically, Orsino had improved, though the change was undefinable.
Young as he was, something of the power of mature manhood was already
coming over his youth.

"You must have thought me very--rude," said Maria Consuelo, breaking the
silence and speaking with a slight hesitation which Orsino had never
noticed before.

"It is not for me to complain, Madame," he answered. "You had every
right--"

He stopped short, for he was reluctant to admit that she had been
justified in her behaviour towards him.

"Thanks," she said, with an attempt to laugh. "It is pleasant to find
magnanimous people now and then. I do not want you to think that I was
capricious. That is all."

"I certainly do not think that. You were most consistent. I called three
times and always got the same answer."

He fancied that he heard her sigh, but she tried to laugh again.

"I am not imaginative," she answered. "I daresay you found that out long
go. You have much more imagination than I."

"It is possible, Madame--but you have not cared to develop it."

"What do you mean?"

"What does it matter? Do you remember what you said when I bade you
good-night at the window of your carriage after Del Ferice's dinner? You
said that you were not angry with me. I was foolish enough to imagine
that you were in earnest. I came again and again, but you would not see
me. You did not encourage my illusion."

"Because I would not receive you? How do you know what happened to me?
How can you judge of my life? By your own? There is a vast difference."

"Yes, indeed!" exclaimed Orsino almost impatiently. "I know what you