the truth of that hideous scene which had just
been enacted in that lobby.

"I was frightened at the sight of my own blood," said she, "and I believe
it is only a small cut.... See! I can move my hand without pain."

When the doctor, hastily summoned, had confirmed that no particles of
glass had remained in the cuts, the Countess felt so reassured that her
gayety returned. Never had she been in a mood more charming than in the
carriage which took them to the Villa Steno.

To a person obliged by proof to condemn another without ceasing to love
her, there is no greater sorrow than to perceive the absolute
unconsciousness of that other person and her serenity in her fault. Poor
Alba, felt overwhelmed by a sadness greater, more depressing still, and
which became materially insupportable, when, toward half-past two, her
mother bade her farewell, although the fete at the English embassy did
not begin until five o'clock.

"I promised poor Hafner to go to see him to-day. I know he is bowed down
with grief. I would like to try to arrange all.... I will send back the
carriage if you wish to go out awhile. I have telephoned Lydia to expect
me at four o'clock.... She will take me."

She had, on detailing the employment so natural of her afternoon, eyes
too brilliant, a smile too happy. She looked too youthful in her light
toilette. Her feet trembled with too nervous an impatience. How could
Alba not have felt that she was telling her an untruth? The undeceived
child had the intuition that the visit to Fanny's father was only a
pretext. It was not the first time that the Countess employed it to free
herself from inconvenient surveillance, the act of sending back the
carriage, which, in Rome as in Paris, is always the probable sign of
clandestine meetings with women of their rank. It was not the first time
that Alba was possessed by suspicion on certain mysterious disappearances
of her mother. That mother did not mistrust that poor Alba--her Alba, the
child so tenderly loved in spite of all--was suffering at that very
moment and on her account the most terrible of temptations.... When the
carriage had disappeared the fixed gaze of the young girl was turned upon
the pavement, and then she felt arise in her a sudden, instinctive,
almost irresistible idea to end the moral suffering by which she was
devoured. It was so simple!.... It was sufficient to end life. One
movement which she could make, one single movement--she could lean o