the slight flush in her cheeks was, it looked
a little feverish to Guido. As he began to make his way forward he tried
to catch her eye, but he thought she purposely avoided an exchange of
glances. At last he was beside her, and to his surprise she looked at
him quite naturally, and answered him without embarrassment.

"You must be tired," he said. "Will you not sit down for a little
while?"

"I should like to," she answered, smiling.

Then she looked at her mother, and seemed to hesitate.

"May I go and sit down?" she asked, in a low voice. "I am so tired!"

"Of course, child!" answered the Countess, cheerfully. "Signor d'Este
will take you to the seat over there by the fountain. I hardly think
that any one else will come now."

Guido and Cecilia moved away, and the Countess smiled affectionately at
their backs. Some one said that they were a very well-matched pair, and
another asked if it were true that Signor d'Este would inherit the
Princess Anatolie's fortune at her death. A third observed that she
would never die; and a fourth, who was going to dine with her that
evening, said that she was a very charming woman; whereupon everybody
laughed a little, and the Countess changed the subject.

Cecilia was really tired, and gave a little sigh of satisfaction as she
sat down and leaned back. Guido looked at her and hesitated.

"I must have shaken hands with at least two hundred people," she said,
"and I am sure I have spoken to as many more!"

"Do you like it?" Guido asked, by way of gaining time.

"What an idle question!" laughed Cecilia.

"I had another to ask you," he answered gravely. "Not an idle one."

She looked at him quickly, wondering whether he was going to ask her to
be his wife, and wondering, too, what she should answer if he did. For
some days past she had understood that what they called their compact of
friendship was becoming a mere comedy on his side, if not on hers, and
that he loved her with all his heart, though he had not told her so.

"It is rather an odd question," he continued, as she said nothing. "You
have not formally given me any right to ask it, and yet I feel that I
have the right, all the same."

"Friendship gives rights, and takes them," Cecilia answered
thoughtfully.

"Exactly. That is what I feel about it. That is why I think I may ask
you something that may seem strange. At all events, I cannot go on
living in doubt about the answer."

"Is it as important as that?"