are
going to say. It will be flattering to me of course. The unattached
young man is dangerous to the reputation. The foreign lady is travelling
alone. There is the foundation of a vaudeville in that!"

"If you must be unjust, at least do not be brutal," said Maria Consuelo
in a low voice, and she turned her face away from him.

"I am evidently placed in the world to offend you, Madame. Will you
believe that I am sorry for it, though I only dimly comprehend my fault?
What did I say? That you were wise in breaking off my visits, because
you are alone here, and because I am young, unmarried and unfortunately
a little conspicuous in my native city. Is it brutal to suggest that a
young and beautiful woman has a right not to be compromised? Can we not
talk freely for half an hour, as we used to talk, and then say good-bye
and part good friends until you come to Rome again?"

"I wish we could!" There was an accent of sincerity in the tone which
pleased Orsino.

"Then begin by forgiving me all my sins, and put them down to ignorance,
want of tact, the inexperience of youth or a naturally weak
understanding. But do not call me brutal on such slight provocation."

"We shall never agree for a long time," answered Maria Consuelo
thoughtfully.

"Why not?"

"Because, as I told you, there is too great a difference between our
lives. Do not answer me as you did before, for I am right. I began by
admitting that I was rude. If that is not enough I will say more--I will
even ask you to forgive me--can I do more?"

She spoke so earnestly that Orsino was surprised and almost touched. Her
manner now was even less comprehensible than her repeated refusals to
see him had been.

"You have done far too much already," he said gravely. "It is mine to
ask your forgiveness for much that I have done and said. I only wish
that I understood you better."

"I am glad you do not," replied Maria Consuelo, with a sigh which this
time was not to be mistaken. "There is a sadness which it is better not
to understand," she added softly.

"Unless one can help to drive it away." He, too, spoke gently, his voice
being attracted to the pitch and tone of hers.

"You cannot do that--and if you could, you would not."

"Who can tell?"

The charm which he had formerly felt so keenly in her presence but which
he had of late so completely forgotten, was beginning to return and he
submitted to it with a sense of satisfaction which he had not
anticipated