he saw her so pale, the man, who had been in the
Countess's service for years, could not help saying to her, with the
familiarity of an Italian servant:

"You have taken cold, Mademoiselle, and this place is so dangerous."

"Indeed," she replied, "I have had a chill. It will be nothing. Let us
return quickly. Above all, do not say that I was in the boat. You will
cause me to be scolded."

CHAPTER XII

EPILOGUE

"And it was directly after that conversation that the poor child left for
the lake, where she caught the pernicious fever?" asked Montfanon.

"Directly," replied Dorsenne, "and what troubles me the most is that I
can not doubt but that she went there purposely. I was so troubled by our
conversation that I had not the strength to leave Rome the same evening,
as I told her I should. After much hesitation--you understand why, now
that I have told you all--I returned to the Villa Steno at six o'clock.
To speak to her, but of what? Did I know? It was madness. For her avowal
only allowed of two replies, either that which I made her or an offer of
marriage. Ah, I did not reason so much. I was afraid.... Of what?.... I
do not know. I reached the villa, where I found the Countess, gay and
radiant, as was her custom, and tete-a-tete with her American. 'Only
think, there is my child,' said she to me, 'who has refused to go to the
English embassy, where she would enjoy herself, and who has gone out for
a drive alone.... Will you await her?'"

"At length she began to grow uneasy, and I, seeing that no one returned,
took my leave, my heart oppressed by presentiments.... Alba's carriage
stopped at the door just as I was going out. She was pale, of a greenish
pallor, which caused me to say on approaching her: 'Whence have you
come?' as if I had the right. Her lips, already discolored, trembled as
they replied. When I learned where she had spent that hour of sunset, and
near what lake, the most deadly in the neighborhood, I said to her: 'What
imprudence!' I shall all my life see the glance she gave me at the
moment, as she replied: 'Say, rather, how wise, and pray that I may have
taken the fever and that I die of it.' You know the rest, and how her
wish has been realized. She indeed contracted the fever, and so severely
that she died in less than six days. I have no doubt, since her last
words, that it was a suicide."

"And the mother," asked Montfanon, "did she not comprehend finally?"

"Absolutely nothing,