welry and the falsetto voice had really
come to England, Lionel knew who would have been the first to bid him
return to his native shores and his _zuccherelli_. Had not Nina
indignantly denied that he had ever dared to address her as "Nenna mia,"
or that his perpetual "Antoniella, Antonia," in any way referred to her?
No; Lionel did not think that Nicolo Ciana had much to do with Nina's
disappearance.

And then, as he regarded this little box of useless jewelry, another
wild guess flashed through his brain, leaving him somewhat breathless,
almost frightened. Was it possible that Nina had mistaken these gifts
for love-gifts, had discovered her mistake, and, in a fit of wounded
pride, had flung them back and fled forever from this England that had
deceived her? He was not vain enough to think there could be anything
more serious, that Nina might be breaking her heart over what had
happened to her; but it was quite enough if he had unconsciously led her
to believe that he was paying her attentions. He looked at that
loving-cup with some pricking of conscience; he had to confess that such
a gift was capable of misconstruction. It had never occurred to him that
she might regard it as some kind of mute declaration--as a pledge of
affection between him and her that necessitated no clearer
understanding. He had seen the two tiny goblets in a window; he had been
taken by the pretty silver-gilt ornamentation; he had been interested in
the old-fashioned custom; and he had lightly imagined that Nina would be
pleased--that was all. And now that he thought of it, he had to confess
that he had been indiscreet. It is true he had given Nina those presents
from time to time in a careless and haphazard fashion that ought not to
have been misunderstood--only, as he had to remind himself, Nina must
have perceived that he did not give similar presents to Miss Burgoyne,
or Estelle Girond, or anybody else in the theatre. And was Nina now
thinking that he had treated her badly?--Nina, who had been always his
sympathizing friend, his gentle adviser, and kind companion. Was there
any one in the world that he less wished to harm? He supposed she must
have been angry when she returned these jewels and gew-gaws; clearly she
was too proud to send him any other message. And now she would be away
somewhere, where he could not get hold of her to pet her into a
reconciliation again; no doubt there was some hurt feeling of injury in
her heart--perhaps she