oaths never to allude to these strange
coincidences, or whatever they are, but to talk them out of existence;
all the more so, as they seem to have suddenly come to an end. I only
tell you what would be easier for me; but I will do whatever makes it
most easy for you."

"I prayed that they might stop," said Cecilia, in a very low voice. "I
want you to be my friend, and as long as I dreamt of you--in that way--I
felt that it was impossible."

"Of course," Lamberti answered, without hesitation. Then, with an
attempt at a laugh, he corrected himself. "I apologise for all the
things I said to you in my dreams."

"Please do not laugh about it." Her voice was a little unsteady, and she
was looking down, so that he could not see her face.

"It is better not to take it too seriously," he replied gravely. "Could
anything be more absurd than that two people who were mere acquaintances
then should fall in love with each other in their dreams? It is utterly
ridiculous. Any sane person would laugh at the idea."

"Yes; no doubt. But there is more than that. Call it telepathy, or
whatever you please, it cannot be a mere coincidence. Do you know that,
until last Wednesday, I met you in my dream, just where you dreamed of
meeting me, at the bench in the villa?"

He did not seem surprised, but listened attentively while she continued.

"I am sure that we really met," she went on gravely. "It may be in some
natural way or not. It does not matter. We must never meet again like
that--never. Do you understand? We must promise never to try and find
each other in our dreams. Will you promise?"

"Yes; I promise." Lamberti spoke gravely.

"I promise, too," Cecilia said.

Then they were both silent for a time. It was like a real parting, and
they felt it, and for a few moments each was thinking of the bench by
the fountain in the Villa Madama.

"We owe it to Guido," Lamberti said at last, almost unconsciously.

"Yes," the girl answered; "and to ourselves. Thank you."

With an impulse she did not suspect, she held out her hand to him, and
waited for him to take it. Neither her mother nor Guido could see the
gesture, for Lamberti's seated figure screened her from them; but he
could not have taken her hand in his right without changing his
position, since she was seated low on his other side; so he took it
quietly in his left, and the two met and pressed each the other for a
second.

In that touch Cecilia felt that all her fear of h