me slowly."

He turned and walked fast to the Ponte Rubaconte, and there leaned
against the wall of one of the quaint little houses that rise at even
distances on the bridge, looking towards the way by which Tessa would
come. It would have softened a much harder heart than Tito's to see the
little thing advancing with her round face much paled and saddened since
he had parted from it at the door of the "Nunziata." Happily it was the
least frequented of the bridges, and there were scarcely any passengers
on it at this moment. He lost no time in speaking as soon as she came
near him.

"Now, Tessa, I have very little time. You must not cry. Why did you
follow me this morning? You must not do so again."

"I thought," said Tessa, speaking in a whisper, and struggling against a
sob that _would_ rise immediately at this new voice of Tito's--"I
thought you wouldn't be so long before you came to take care of me
again. And the _patrigno_ beats me, and I can't bear it any longer.
And always when I come for a holiday I walk about to find you, and I
can't. Oh, please don't send me away from you again! It has been so
long, and I cry so now, because you never come to me. I can't help it,
for the days are so long, and I don't mind about the goats and kids, or
anything--and I can't--"

The sobs came fast now, and the great tears. Tito felt that he could
not do otherwise than comfort her. Send her away--yes; that he _must_
do, at once. But it was all the more impossible to tell her anything
that would leave her in a state of hopeless grief. He saw new trouble
in the background, but the difficulty of the moment was too pressing for
him to weigh distant consequences.

"Tessa, my little one," he said, in his old caressing tones, "you must
not cry. Bear with the cross _patrigno_ a little longer. I will come
back to you. But I'm going now to Rome--a long, long way off. I shall
come back in a few weeks, and then I promise you to come and see you.
Promise me to be good and wait for me."

It was the well-remembered voice again, and the mere sound was half
enough to soothe Tessa. She looked up at him with trusting eyes, that
still glittered with tears, sobbing all the while, in spite of her
utmost efforts to obey him. Again he said, in a gentle voice--

"Promise me, my Tessa."

"Yes," she whispered. "But you won't be long?"

"No, not long. But I must _go now_. And remember what I told you,
Tessa. Nobody must kn