our in all that sun!"

"But, signorino, you would not have them pay too much!" she said, very
seriously. "It is dreadful to waste soldi."

"I suppose--yes, of course it is. Oh, but there are so many things worth
more than soldi. Dio mio! Let's forget all that!"

He waved his hand towards the crowd, but he saw that Maddalena was
preoccupied. She glanced towards the watercourse rather wistfully.

"What is it, Maddalena? Ah, I know! The blue dress and the ear-rings! Per
Bacco!"

"No, signore--no, signore!"

She disclaimed quickly, reddening.

"Yes, it is. I had forgotten. But we can't go now. Maddalena, we will buy
them this evening. Directly it gets cool we'll go, directly we've rested
a little. But don't think of them now. I've promised, and I always keep a
promise. Now, don't think of that any more!"

He spoke with a sort of desperation. The fair seemed to be his enemy, and
he had thought that it would be his friend. It was like a personage with
a stronger influence than his, an influence that could take away that
which he wished to retain, to fix upon himself.

"No, signore," Maddalena said, meekly, but still wistfully.

"Do you care for a blue dress and a pair of ear-rings more than you do
for me?" cried Maurice, with sudden roughness. "Are you like your father?
Do you only care for me for what you can get out of me? I believe you
do!"

Maddalena looked startled, almost terrified, by his outburst. Her lips
trembled, but she gazed at him steadily.

"Non e vero."

The words sounded almost stern.

"I do--" he said. "I do want to be cared for a little--just for myself."

[Illustration: "HE KEPT HIS HAND ON HERS AND HELD IT ON THE WARM GROUND"]

At that moment he had a sensation of loneliness like that of an
utterly unloved man. And yet at that moment a great love was travelling
to him--a love that was complete and flawless. But he did not think of
it. He only thought that perhaps all this time he had been deceived, that
Maddalena, like her father, was merely pleased to see him because he had
money and could spend it. He sickened.

"Non e vero!" Maddalena repeated.

Her lips still trembled. Maurice looked at her doubtfully, yet with a
sudden tenderness. Always when she looked troubled, even for an instant,
there came to him the swift desire to protect her, to shield her.

"But why should you care for me?" he said. "It is better not. For I am
going away, and probably you will never see me again."

T