The more he thought of what had happened the angrier he grew, and his
jealousy against the unknown man who had caused the trouble was boiling
up.

Guido caught at the straw like a drowning man, and raised himself on his
elbow.

"Do you really think that she may change her mind? That this is only a
caprice?"

"I should not wonder. All women have caprices now and then. It is a fit
of conscience. She is not quite sure that she likes you enough to marry
you, and you have said something that jarred on her, perhaps. If you had
been able to go and see her this morning, she would have begun by being
very brave, but in five minutes she would have been as ready to marry
you as ever. I will wager anything that when she had written that letter
she sent it off as soon as possible for fear that she should not send it
at all!"

"What do you advise me to do?" asked Guido, his hopes rising. "I believe
you understand women better than I do, after all!"

"They are only human animals, like ourselves," Lamberti answered
carelessly. "The chief difference is that they do all the things that we
are sometimes inclined to do, but should be ashamed of doing."

"I daresay. But I want your advice."

"Go and tell her that she has made a mistake, that she cannot possibly
be in earnest, but that if she does not feel that she can marry you in a
fortnight, she can put off the wedding till the autumn. It is quite
simple. It has all been rather sudden, from the first, and it is much
better that the engagement should go on a little longer."

"That is reasonable," Guido answered, growing calmer every moment. "I
wish I could go to her at once."

"I suppose you cannot," said Lamberti, looking at him rather curiously.

He remembered that he had once dragged himself five miles with a bad
spear-wound in his leg, to take news to a handful of men in danger, but
he supposed that Guido was differently organised. He did not like him
the less.

"No!" Guido answered. "The fever makes me so giddy that I can hardly
stand."

He put out his hand for the tumbler on the table, but it was empty.

"Lamberti!" he said.

"Yes, I will get you some water at once," the other answered, rising to
his feet.

"No," Guido said. "Never mind that, I will ring presently. Will you do
something for me?"

"Of course."

"Will you speak to her for me?"

Lamberti was standing by the bedside, and he saw the serious and almost
timid look in his friend's eyes. But he had no