that he did not even glance at the
latter's face. It was set like a mask, and under the tanned colour any
one could see that the man turned pale.

"You know Cecilia already," said the Countess Fortiguerra, pleasantly.
"I hope the rest of your family are coming?"

"I think they are all coming," Lamberti answered very mechanically.

He had resolutely looked at the Countess until now, but he felt the
daughter's eyes upon him, and he was obliged to meet them, if only for a
single instant. The last time he had met their gaze she had cried aloud
and had fled from him in terror. He would have given much to turn from
her now, without a glance, and mingle with the other guests.

He was perfectly cool and self-possessed, as he afterwards remembered,
but he felt that it was the sort of coolness which always came upon him
in moments of supreme danger. It was familiar to him, for he had been in
many hand-to-hand engagements in wild countries, and he knew that it
would not forsake him; but he missed the thrill of rare delight that
made him love fighting as he loved no sport he had ever tried. This was
more like walking bravely to certain death.

Cecilia was all in white, but her face was whiter than the silk she
wore, and as motionless as marble; and her fixed eyes shone with an
almost dazzling light. Guido saw and wondered. Then he heard Lamberti's
voice, steady, precise, and metallic as the notes of a bell striking the
hour.

"I hope to see something of you by-and-by, Signorina."

Cecilia's lips moved, but no sound came from them. Then Guido was sure
that they smiled perceptibly, and she bent her head in assent, but so
slightly that her eyes were still fixed on Lamberti's.

Other guests came up at that moment, and the two friends made way for
them.

"Come back through the house," said Guido, in a low voice.

Lamberti followed him into the great hall, and to the left through the
next, where there was no one, and out to a small balcony beyond. Then
both stood still and faced each other, and the silence lasted a few
seconds. Guido spoke first.

"What has there been between you two?" he asked, with something like
sternness in his tone.

"This is the second time in my life that I have spoken to the
Contessina," Lamberti answered. "The first time I ever saw her was at
your aunt's house."

Guido had never doubted the word of Lamberto Lamberti, but he could not
doubt the evidence of his own senses either, and he had watche