man's ill temper.

"As for this being right and best, this parting, you will see it as I do
sooner or later. But you do believe that I love you, dearly, tenderly,
very--well, no matter how--you believe it?"

"I believe it--"

"Then say 'good-bye, Consuelo'--and kiss me once--for what might have
been."

Orsino half rose, bent down and kissed her cheek.

"Good-bye, Consuelo," he said, almost whispering the words into her ear.
In his heart he did not think she meant it. He still expected that she
would call him back.

"It is good-bye, dear--believe it--remember it!" Her voice shook a
little now.

"Good-bye, Consuelo," he repeated.

With a loving look that meant no good-bye he drew back and went to the
door. He laid his hand on the handle and paused. She did not speak. Then
he looked at her again. Her head had fallen back against a cushion and
her eyes were half closed. He waited a second and a keen pain shot
through him. Perhaps she was in earnest after all. In an instant he had
recrossed the room and was on his knees beside her trying to take her
hands.

"Consuelo--darling--you do not really mean it! You cannot, you will
not--"

He covered her hands with kisses and pressed them to his heart. For a
few moments she made no movement, but her eyelids quivered. Then she
sprang to her feet, pushing him back violently as he rose with her, and
turning her face from him.

"Go--go!" she cried wildly. "Go--let me never see you again--never,
never!"

Before he could stop her, she had passed him with a rush like a swallow
on the wing and was gone from the room.

CHAPTER XXIII.

Orsino was not in an enviable frame of mind when he left the hotel. It
is easier to bear suffering when one clearly understands all its causes,
and distinguishes just how great a part of it is inevitable and how
great a part may be avoided or mitigated. In the present case there was
much in the situation which it passed his power to analyse or
comprehend. He still possessed the taste for discovering motives in the
actions of others as well as in his own, but many months of a busy life
had dulled the edge of the artificial logic in which he had formerly
delighted, while greatly sharpening his practical wit. Artificial
analysis supplies from the imagination the details lacking in facts, but
common sense needs something more tangible upon which to work. Orsino
felt that the chief circumstance which had determined Maria Consuelo's
cond