pends upon what you mean by love," answered Maria Consuelo,
watching him with half-closed eyes.

Orsino laughed.

"What I mean by love? I suppose I mean very much what other people mean
by it--or a little more," he added, and the slight change in his voice
pleased her.

"Do you think that any two understand the same thing when they speak of
love?" she asked.

"We two might," he answered, resuming his indifferent tone. "After all,
we have talked so much together during the last month that we ought to
understand each other."

"Yes," said Maria Consuelo. "And I think we do," she added thoughtfully.

"Then why should we think differently about the same thing? But I am not
going to try and define love. It is not easily defined, and I am not
clever enough." He laughed again. "There are many illnesses which I
cannot define--but I know that one may have them twice."

"There are others which one can only have once--dangerous ones, too."

"I know it. But that has nothing to do with the argument."

"I think it has--if this is an argument at all."

"No. Love is not enough like an illness--it is quite the contrary. It is
a recovery from an unnatural state--that of not loving. One may fall
into that state and recover from it more than once."

"What a sophism!"

"Why do you say that? Do you think that not to love is the normal
condition of mankind?"

Maria Consuelo was silent, still watching him.

"You have nothing to say," he continued, stopping and standing before
her. "There is nothing to be said. A man or woman who does not love is
in an abnormal state. When he or she falls in love it is a recovery. One
may recover so long as the heart has enough vitality. Admit it--for you
must. It proves that any properly constituted person may love twice, at
least."

"There is an idea of faithlessness in it, nevertheless," said Maria
Consuelo, thoughtfully. "Or if it is not faithless, it is fickle. It is
not the same to oneself to love twice. One respects oneself less."

"I cannot believe that."

"We all ought to believe it. Take a case as an instance. A woman loves a
man with all her heart, to the point of sacrificing very much for him.
He loves her in the same way. In spite of the strongest opposition, they
agree to be married. On the very day of the marriage he is taken from
her--for ever--loving her as he has always loved her, and as he would
always have loved her had he lived. What would such a woman feel, if she
foun