nother sound--soft and low and distant--that seemed to say, "_A la
fenesta affaciate_--_nennela de stu core_--_io t'aggio addo che spasemi,
ma spasemo d'amore_--_e cchiu non trovo requia, nennella mia, ppe
te!_--"

"Maurice!" said Lionel, with staring eyes. "What is that? Who is there?"

"Don't you know, Linn?" his friend said, tranquilly. "She has been here
all through your illness--she has played those airs for you--"

"Nina? Nina herself?" Lionel exclaimed, but in a low voice.

"Yes. If you like I will bring her in to see you. She has been awfully
good. I thought it would please you to know she was here. Now be quite
quiet, and she will come in and speak to you for a minute--for just a
minute, you know."

He went and asked Nina to go into the room, but he did not accompany
her; he remained without. Nina went gently forward to the bedside.

"Leo, I--I am glad you are getting on so well," she said, with admirable
self-possession; it was only her lips that were tremulous.

As for him, he looked at her in silence, and tears rolled down his
cheek--he was so nerveless. Then he said, in his weak voice,

"Nina, have you forgiven me?"

"What have I to forgive, Leo?" she made answer; and she took his hand
for a moment. "Get well--it is the prayer of many friends. And if you
wish to see me again before I go, then I will come--"

"Before you go?" he managed to say. "You are going away again, Nina?"

His eyes were more piteous than his speech; she met that look--and her
resolution faltered.

"At least," she said, "I will not go until you are well--no. When you
wish for me, I will come to see you. We are still friends as of old,
Leo, are we not? Now I must not remain. I will say good-bye for the
present."

"When are you coming back, Nina?" he said, still with those pleading
eyes.

"When you wish, Leo."

"This afternoon?"

"This afternoon, if you wish."

She pressed his hand and left. Her determined self-possession had
carried her bravely so far; there had hardly been a trace of emotion.
But when she went outside--when the strain was taken off--it may have
been otherwise; at all events, when, with bowed and averted head, she
crossed the sitting-room and betook herself to the empty chamber above,
no one dreamed of following her--until Francie, some little time
thereafter, went quietly up-stairs and tapped at the door and entered.
She found Nina stretched at full length on the sofa, her head buried in
the cushio