ce of the fact,
grew stronger and stronger; it was very irritating--perhaps all the more
so because a certain tenderness and pity for the poor little thing made
the determination to escape without any visible notice of her, a not
altogether agreeable resource. Yet Tito persevered and carried his
companion to the door, cleverly managing his "addio" without turning his
face in a direction where it was possible for him to see an importunate
pair of blue eyes; and as he went up the stone steps, he tried to get
rid of unpleasant thoughts by saying to himself that after all Tessa
might not have seen him, or, if she had, might not have followed him.

But--perhaps because that possibility could not be relied on strongly--
when the visit was over, he came out of the doorway with a quick step
and an air of unconsciousness as to anything that might be on his
right-hand or his left. Our eyes are so constructed, however, that they
take in a wide angle without asking any leave of our will; and Tito knew
that there was a little figure in a white hood standing near the
doorway--knew it quite well, before he felt a hand laid on his arm. It
was a real grasp, and not a light, timid touch; for poor Tessa, seeing
his rapid step, had started forward with a desperate effort. But when
he stopped and turned towards her, her face wore a frightened look, as
if she dreaded the effect of her boldness.

"Tessa!" said Tito, with more sharpness in his voice than she had ever
heard in it before. "Why are you here? You must not follow me--you
must not stand about door-places waiting for me."

Her blue eyes widened with tears, and she said nothing. Tito was afraid
of something worse than ridicule, if he were seen in the Via de' Bardi
with a girlish contadina looking pathetically at him. It was a street
of high silent-looking dwellings, not of traffic; but Bernardo del Nero,
or some one almost as dangerous, might come up at any moment. Even if
it had not been the day of his betrothal, the incident would have been
awkward and annoying. Yet it would be brutal--it was impossible--to
drive Tessa away with harsh words. That accursed folly of his with the
_cerretano_--that it should have lain buried in a quiet way for months,
and now start up before him as this unseasonable crop of vexation! He
could not speak harshly, but he spoke hurriedly.

"Tessa, I cannot--must not talk to you here. I will go on to the bridge
and wait for you there. Follow