A FEARFUL RESPONSIBILITY

AND OTHER STORIES

BY

WILLIAM D. HOWELLS

AUTHOR OF "THE LADY OF THE AROOSTOOK, " "THE UNDISCOVEREDCOUNTRY, " ETC. 

[Illustration: Publisher's logo]

BOSTONJAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY1881

_Copyright, 1881, _BY W. D. HOWELLS. 

_All rights reserved. _

UNIVERSITY PRESSJOHN WILSON AND SON, CAMBRIDGE. 

CONTENTS. 

 PAGE

A FEARFUL RESPONSIBILITY 1

AT THE SIGN OF THE SAVAGE 165

TONELLI'S MARRIAGE 209

A FEARFUL RESPONSIBILITY. 

I. 

Every loyal American who went abroad during the first years of our greatwar felt bound to make himself some excuse for turning his back on hiscountry in the hour of her trouble. But when Owen Elmore sailed, no oneelse seemed to think that he needed excuse. All his friends said it wasthe best thing for him to do; that he could have leisure and quiet overthere, and would be able to go on with his work. 

At the risk of giving a farcical effect to my narrative, I am obliged toconfess that the work of which Elmore's friends spoke was a projectedhistory of Venice. So many literary Americans have projected such a workthat it may now fairly be regarded as a national enterprise. Elmore wastoo obscure to have been announced in the usual way by the newspapers ashaving this design; but it was well known in his town that he wascollecting materials when his professorship in the small inland collegewith which he was connected lapsed through the enlistment of nearly allthe students. The president became colonel of the college regiment; andin parting with Elmore, while their boys waited on the campus without, he had said, "Now, Elmore, you must go on with your history of Venice. Go to Venice and collect your materials on the spot. We're comingthrough this all right. Mr. Seward puts it at sixty days, but I'll givethem six months to lay down their arms, and we shall want you back atthe end of the year. Don't you have any compunctions about going. I knowhow you feel; but it is perfectly right for you to keep out of it. Good-by. " They wrung each other's hands for the last time, --thepresident fell at Fort Donelson; but now Elmore followed him to thedoor, and when he appeared there one of the boyish captains shouted, "Three cheers for Professor Elmore!" and the president called for thetiger, and led it, whirling his cap round his head. 

Elmore went back to his study, sick at heart. It grieved and vexed himthat even these had not thought that he should go to the war, and thathis inward struggle on that point had been idle so far as others wereconcerned. He had been quite earnest in the matter; he had once almostvolunteered as a private soldier: he had consulted his doctor, whosternly discouraged him. He would have been truly glad of any accidentthat forced him into the ranks; but, as he used afterward to say, it wasnot his idea of soldiership to enlist for the hospital. At the distanceof five hundred miles from the scene of hostilities, it was absurd toenter the Home Guard; and, after all, there were, even at first, someselfish people who went into the army, and some unselfish people whokept out of it. Elmore's bronchitis was a disorder which active servicewould undoubtedly have aggravated; as it was, he made a last effort tobe of use to our Government as a bearer of dispatches. Failing such anappointment, he submitted to expatriation as he best could; and in Italyhe fought for our cause against the English, whom he found everywhereall but in arms against us. 

He sailed, in fine, with a very fair conscience. "I should be perfectlyat ease, " he said to his wife, as the steamer dropped smoothly down toSandy Hook, "if I were sure that I was not glad to be getting away. "

"You are _not_ glad, " she answered. 

"I don't know, I don't know, " he said, with the weak persistence of aman willing that his wife should persuade him against his convictions;"I wish that I felt certain of it. "

"You are too sick to go to the war; nobody expected you to go. "

"I know that, and I can't say that I like it. As for being too sick, perhaps it's the part of a man to go if he dies on the way to the field. It would encourage the others, " he added, smiling faintly. 

She ignored the tint from Voltaire in replying: "Nonsense! It would dono good at all. At any rate, it's too late now. "

"Yes, it's too late now. "

The sea-sickness which shortly followed formed a diversion from hisaccusing thoughts. Each day of the voyage removed them further, and withthe preoccupations of his first days in Europe, his travel to Italy, andhis preparations for a long sojourn in Venice, they had softened to apensive sense of self-sacrifice, which took a warmer or a cooler tingeaccording as the news from home was good or bad. 

II. 

He lost no time in going to work in the Marcian Library, and he earlyapplied to the Austrian authorities for leave to have transcripts madein the archives. The permission was negotiated by the American consul(then a young painter of the name of Ferris), who reported a mechanicalfacility on the part of the authorities, --as if, he said, they were usedto obliging American historians of Venice. The foreign tyranny whichcast a pathetic glamour over the romantic city had certainly notappeared to grudge such publicity as Elmore wished to give her heroicmemories, though it was then at its most repressive period, and formed acheck upon the whole life of the place. The tears were hardly yet dry inthe despairing eyes that had seen the French fleet sail away from theLido, after Solferino, without firing a shot in behalf of Venice; butLombardy, the Duchies, the Sicilies, had all passed to Sardinia, and thePope alone represented the old order of native despotism in Italy. AtVenice the Germans seemed tranquilly awaiting the change which shoulddestroy their system with the rest; and in the meantime there hadoccurred one of those impressive pauses, as notable in the lives ofnations as of men, when, after the occurrence of great events, theforces of action and endurance seem to be gathering themselves againstthe stress of the future. The quiet was almost consciously a truce andnot a peace; and this local calm had drawn into it certain elements thatpicturesquely and sentimentally heightened the charm of the place. Itwas a refuge for many exiled potentates and pretenders; the gondolierpointed out on the Grand Canal the palaces of the Count of Chambord, theDuchess of Parma, and the Infante of Spain; and one met these fallenprinces in the squares and streets, bowing with distinct courtesy to anythat chose to salute them. Every evening the Piazza San Marco was filledwith the white coats of the Austrian officers, promenading to theexquisite military music which has ceased there forever; the patrolclanked through the footways at all hours of the night, and the lagoonheard the cry of the sentinel from fort to fort, and from gunboat togunboat. Through all this the demonstration of the patriots went on, silent, ceaseless, implacable, annulling every alien effort at gayety, depopulating the theatres, and desolating the ancient holidays. 

There was something very fine in this, as a spectacle, Elmore said tohis young wife, and he had to admire the austere self-denial of a peoplewho would not suffer their tyrants to see them happy; but they secretlyowned to each other that it was fatiguing. Soon after coming to Venicethey had made some acquaintance among the Italians through Mr. Ferris, and had early learned that the condition of knowing Venetians was not toknow Austrians. It was easy and natural for them to submit, theoretically. As Americans, they must respond to any impulse forfreedom, and certainly they could have no sympathy with such a system asthat of Austria. By whatever was sacred in our own war upon slavery, they were bound to abhor oppression in every form. But it was hard tomake the application of their hatred to the amiable-looking people whomthey saw everywhere around them in the quality of tyrants, especiallywhen their Venetian friends confessed that personally they liked theAustrians. Besides, if the whole truth must be told, they found thattheir friendship with the Italians was not always of the mostpenetrating sort, though it had a superficial intensity that for a whilegave the effect of lasting cordiality. The Elmores were not quite ableto decide whether the pause of feeling at which they arrived was throughtheir own defect or not. Much was to be laid to the difference of race, religion, and education; but something, they feared, to the personalvapidity of acquaintances whose meridional liveliness made them yawn, and in whose society they did not always find compensation for thesacrifices they made for it. 

"But it is right, " said Elmore. "It would be a sort of treason toassociate with the Austrians. We owe it to the Venetians to let them seethat our feelings are with them. "

"Yes, " said his wife pensively. 

"And it is better for us, as Americans abroad, during this war, to beretired. "

"Well, we are retired, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

"Yes, there is no doubt of that, " he returned. 

They laughed, and made what they could of chance American acquaintancesat the _caffès_. Elmore had his history to occupy him, and doubtless hecould not understand how heavy the time hung upon his wife's hands. Theywent often to the theatre, and every evening they went to the Piazza, and ate an ice at Florian's. This was certainly amusement; and routinewas so pleasant to his scholarly temperament that he enjoyed merelythat. He made a point of admitting his wife as much as possible into hisintellectual life; he read her his notes as fast as he made them, and heconsulted her upon the management of his theme, which, as his researchextended, he found so vast that he was forced to decide upon a muchlighter treatment than he had at first intended. He had resolved upon ahistory which should be presented in a series of biographical studies, and he was so much interested in this conclusion, and so charmed withthe advantages of the form as they developed themselves, that he beganto lose the sense of social dulness, and ceased to imagine it in hiswife. 

A sort of indolence of the sensibilities, in fact, enabled him to endure_ennui_ that made her frantic, and he was often deeply bored withoutknowing it at the time, or without a reasoned suffering. He suffered asa child suffers, simply, almost ignorantly: it was upon reflection thathis nerves began to quiver with retroactive anguish. He was also able toidealize the situation when his wife no longer even wished to do so. Hisfancy cast a poetry about these Venetian friends, whose conversationdisplayed the occasional sparkle of Ollendorff-English on a dark groundof lagoon-Italian, and whose vivid smiling and gesticulation shewearied herself in hospitable efforts to outdo. To his eyes theirhistoric past clothed them with its interest, and the long patience oftheir hope and hatred under foreign rule ennobled them, while to hersthey were too often only tiresome visitors, whose powers of silence andof eloquence were alike to be dreaded. It did not console her as it didher husband to reflect that they probably bored the Italians as much intheir turn. When a young man, very sympathetic for literature and theAmericans, spent an evening, as it seemed to her, in crying nothing but"Per Bácco!" she owned that she liked better his oppressor, who oncecame by chance, in the figure of a young lieutenant, and who unbuckledhis wife, as he called his sword, and, putting her in a corner, sat upon a chair in the middle of the room and sang like a bird, and then toldghost-stories. The songs were out of Heine, and they reminded her of hergirlish enthusiasm for German. Elmore was troubled at the lieutenant'svisit, and feared it would cost them all their Italian friends; but shesaid boldly that she did not care; and she never even tried to believethat the life they saw in Venice was comparable to that of their littlecollege town at home, with its teas and picnics, and simple, easy socialgayeties. There she had been a power in her way; she had entertained, and had helped to make some matches: but the Venetians ate nothing, andas for young people, they never saw each other but by stealth, and theirmatches were made by their parents on a money-basis. She could not adaptherself to this foreign life; it puzzled her, and her husband'sconformity seemed to estrange them, as far as it went. It took away herspirit, and she grew listless and dull. Even the history began to loseits interest in her eyes; she doubted if the annals of such a people asshe saw about her could ever be popular. 

There were other things to make them melancholy in their exile. The warat home was going badly, where it was going at all. The letters nownever spoke of any term to it; they expressed rather the dogged patienceof the time when it seemed as if there could be no end, and indicatedthat the country had settled into shape about it, and was pushingforward its other affairs as if the war did not exist. Mrs. Elmore feltthat the America which she had left had ceased to be. The letters werealmost less a pleasure than a pain, but she always tore them open, andread them with eager unhappiness. There were miserable intervals of daysand even weeks when no letters came, and when the Reuter telegrams inthe Gazette of Venice dribbled their vitriolic news of Northerndisaster through a few words or lines, and Galignani's long columns werefilled with the hostile exultation and prophecy of the London press. 

III. 

They had passed eighteen months of this sort of life in Venice when oneday a letter dropped into it which sent a thousand ripples over itsstagnant surface. Mrs. Elmore read it first to herself, with gasps andcries of pleasure and astonishment, which did not divert her husbandfrom the perusal of some notes he had made the day before, and hadbrought to the breakfast-table with the intention of amusing her. Whenshe flattened it out over his notes, and exacted his attention, heturned an unwilling and lack-lustre eye upon it; then he looked up ather. 

"Did you expect she would come?" he asked, in ill-masked dismay. 

"I don't suppose they had any idea of it at first. When Sue wrote methat Lily had been studying too hard, and had to be taken out of school, I said that I wished she could come over and pay us a visit. But I don'tbelieve they dreamed of letting her--Sue says so--till the Mortons'coming seemed too good a chance to be lost. I am so glad of it, Owen!You know how much they have always done for me; and here is a chance nowto pay a little of it back. "

"What in the world shall we do with her?" he asked. 

"Do? Everything! Why, Owen, " she urged, with pathetic recognition of hiscoldness, "she is Susy Stevens's own sister!"

"Oh, yes--yes, " he admitted. 

"And it was Susy who brought us together!"

"Why, of course. "

"And oughtn't you to be glad of the opportunity?"

"I _am_ glad--_very_ glad. "

"It will be a relief to you instead of a care. She's such a bright, intelligent girl that we can both sympathize with your work, and youwon't have to go round with me all the time, and I can matronize hermyself. "

"I see, I see, " Elmore replied, with scarcely abated seriousness. "Perhaps, if she is coming here for her health, she won't need muchmatronizing. "

"Oh, pshaw! She'll be well enough for _that_! She's overdone a little atschool. I shall take good care of her, I can tell you; and I shall makeher have a real good time. It's quite flattering of Susy to trust herto us, so far away, and I shall write and tell her we both think so. "

"Yes, " said Elmore, "it's a fearful responsibility. "

There are instances of the persistence of husbands in certain moods orpoints of view on which even wheedling has no effect. The wise womanperceives that in these cases she must trust entirely to the softeninginfluences of time, and as much as possible she changes the subject; orif this is impossible she may hope something from presenting a stillworse aspect of the affair. Mrs. Elmore said, in lifting the letter fromthe table: "If she sailed the 3d in the City of Timbuctoo, she will beat Queenstown on the 12th or 13th, and we shall have a letter from herby Wednesday saying when she will be at Genoa. That's as far as theMortons can bring her, and there's where we must meet her. "

"Meet her in Genoa! How?"

"By going there for her, " replied Mrs. Elmore, as if this were thesimplest thing in the world. "I have never seen Genoa. "

Elmore now tacitly abandoned himself to his fate. His wife continued: "Ineedn't take anything. Merely run on, and right back. "

"When must we go?" he asked. 

"I don't know yet; but we shall have a letter to-morrow. Don't worry onmy account, Owen. Her coming won't be a bit of care to me. It will giveme something to do and to think about, and it will be a pleasure all thetime to know that it's for Susy Stevens. And I shall like thecompanionship. "

Elmore looked at his wife in surprise, for it had not occurred to himbefore that with his company she could desire any other companionship. He desired none but hers, and when he was about his work he oftenthought of her. He supposed that at these moments she thought of him, and found society, as he did, in such thoughts. But he was not a jealousor exacting man, and he said nothing. His treatment of the approachingvisit from Susy Stevens's sister had not been enthusiastic, but a sparkhad kindled his imagination, and it burned warmer and brighter as thedays went by. He found a charm in the thought of having this fresh younglife here in his charge, and of teaching the girl to live into the greatand beautiful history of the city: there was still much of theschool-master in him, and he intended to make her sojourn an educationto her; and as a literary man he hoped for novel effects from her mindupon material which he was above all trying to set in a new light beforehimself. 

When the time had arrived for them to go and meet Miss Mayhew at Genoa, he was more than reconciled to the necessity. But at the last moment, Mrs. Elmore had one of her old attacks. What these attacks were I findmyself unable to specify, but as every lady has an old attack of somekind, I may safely leave their precise nature to conjecture. It isenough that they were of a nervous character, that they were accompaniedwith headache, and that they prostrated her for several days. Duringtheir continuance she required the active sympathy and constant presenceof her husband, whose devotion was then exemplary, and brought up longarrears of indebtedness in that way. 

"Well, what shall we do?" he asked, as he sank into a chair beside thelounge on which Mrs. Elmore lay, her eyes closed, and a slice of lemonplaced on each of her throbbing temples with the effect of a new sort ofblinders. "Shall I go alone for her?"

She gave his hand the kind of convulsive clutch that signified, "Impossible for you to leave me. "

He reflected. "The Mortons will be pushing on to Leghorn, and somebody_must_ meet her. How would it do for Mr. Hoskins to go?"

Mrs. Elmore responded with a clutch tantamount to "Horrors! How couldyou think of such a thing?"

"Well, then, " he said, "the only thing we can do is to send a _valet deplace_ for her. We can send old Cazzi. He's the incarnation ofrespectability; five francs a day and his expenses will buy all thevirtues of him. She'll come as safely with him as with me. "

Mrs. Elmore had applied a vividly thoughtful pressure to her husband'shand; she now released it in token of assent, and he rose. 

"But don't be gone long, " she whispered. 

On his way to the caffè which Cazzi frequented, Elmore fell in with theconsul. 

By this time a change had taken place in the consular office. Mr. Ferris, some months before, had suddenly thrown up his charge and gonehome; and after the customary interval of ship-chandler, the Californiasculptor, Hoskins, had arrived out, with his commission in his pocket, and had set up his allegorical figure of The Pacific Slope in the roomwhere Ferris had painted his too metaphysical conception of A VenetianPriest. Mrs. Elmore had never liked Ferris; she thought him cynical andopinionated, and she believed that he had not behaved quite well towardsa young American lady, --a Miss Vervain, who had stayed awhile in Venicewith her mother. She was glad to have him go; but she could not admireMr. Hoskins, who, however good-hearted, was too hopelessly Western. Hehad had part of one foot shot away in the nine months' service, andwalked with a limp that did him honor; and he knew as much of a consul'sbusiness as any of the authors or artists with whom it is the traditionto fill that office at Venice. Besides he was at least afellow-American, and Elmore could not forbear telling him the trouble hewas in: a young girl coming from their town in America as far as Genoawith friends, and expecting to be met there by the Elmores, with whomshe was to pass some months; Mrs. Elmore utterly prostrated by one ofher old attacks, and he unable to leave her, or to take her with him toGenoa; the friends with whom Miss Mayhew travelled unable to bring herto Venice; she, of course, unable to come alone. The case deepened anddarkened in Elmore's view as he unfolded it. 

"Why, " cried the consul sympathetically, "if I could leave my post I'dgo!"

"Oh, thank you!" cried Elmore eagerly, remembering his wife. "I couldn'tthink of letting you. "

"Look here!" said the consul, taking an official letter, with the sealbroken, from his pocket. "This is the first time I couldn't have left mypost without distinct advantage to the public interests, since I've beenhere. But with this letter from Turin, telling me to be on the lookoutfor the Alabama, I couldn't go to Genoa even to meet a young lady. TheAustrians have never recognized the rebels as belligerents: if sheenters the port of Venice, all I've got to do is to require the depositof her papers with me, and then I should like to see her get out again. I _should_ like to capture her. Of course, I don't mean Miss Mayhew, "said the consul, recognizing the double sense in which his languagecould be taken. 

"It would be a great thing for you, " said Elmore, --"a _great_ thing. "

"Yes, it would set me up in my own eyes, and stop that infernal clatterinside about going over and taking a hand again. "

"Yes, " Elmore assented, with a twinge of the old shame. "I didn't knowyou had it too. "

"If I could capture the Alabama, I could afford to let the other fellowsfight it out. "

"I congratulate you, with all my heart, " said Elmore sadly, and hewalked in silence beside the consul. 

"Well, " said the latter, with a laugh at Elmore's pensive rapture, "I'mas much obliged to you as if I _had_ captured her. I'll go up to thePiazza with you, and see Cazzi. "

The affair was easily arranged; Cazzi was made to feel by the consul'sintervention that the shield of American sovereignty had been extendedover the young girl whom he was to escort from Genoa, and two days laterhe arrived with her. Mrs. Elmore's attack now was passing off, and shewas well enough to receive Miss Mayhew half-recumbent on the sofa whereshe had been prone till her arrival. It was pretty to see her fondgreeting of the girl, and her joy in her presence as they sat down forthe first long talk; and Elmore realized, even in his dreamy withdrawal, how much the bright, active spirit of his wife had suffered merely inthe restriction of her English. Now it was not only English they spoke, but that American variety of the language of which I hope we shall growless and less ashamed; and not only this, but their parlance wascharacterized by local turns and accents, which all came welcomely backto Mrs. Elmore, together with those still more intimate inflectionswhich belonged to her own particular circle of friends in the littletown of Patmos, N. Y. Lily Mayhew was of course not of her own set, being five or six years younger; but women, more easily than men, ignorethe disparities of age between themselves and their juniors; and in SusyStevens's absence it seemed a sort of tribute to her to establish hersister in the affection which Mrs. Elmore had so long cherished. Theirfriendship had been of such a thoroughly trusted sort on both sides thatMrs. Stevens (the memorably brilliant Sue Mayhew in her girlish days)had felt perfectly free to act upon Mrs. Elmore's invitation to let Lilycome out to her; and here the child was, as much at home as if she hadjust walked into Mrs. Elmore's parlor out of her sister's house inPatmos. 

IV. 

They briefly dispatched the facts relating to Miss Mayhew's voyage, andher journey to Genoa, and came as quickly as they could to all thosethings which Mrs. Elmore was thirsting to learn about the town and itspeople. "Is it much changed? I suppose it is, " she sighed. "The warchanges everything. "

"Oh, you don't notice the war much, " said Miss Mayhew. "But Patmos _is_gay, --perfectly delightful. We've got one of the camps there now; and_such_ times as the girls have with the officers! We have lots of fungetting up things for the Sanitary. Hops on the parade-ground at thecamp, and going out to see the prisoners, --you never saw such a place. "

"The prisoners?" murmured Mrs. Elmore. 

"Why, _yes_!" cried Lily, with a gay laugh. "Didn't you know that we hada prison-camp too? Some of the Southerners look real nice. I pitiedthem, " she added, with unabated gayety. 

"Your sister wrote to me, " said Mrs. Elmore; "but I couldn't realize it, I suppose, and so I forgot it. "

"Yes, " pursued Lily, "and Frank Halsey's in command. You would neverknow by the way he walks that he had a cork leg. Of course he can'tdance, though, poor fellow. He's pale, and he's perfectly fascinating. So's Dick Burton, with his empty sleeve; he's one of the recruitingofficers, and there's nobody so popular with the girls. You can't thinkhow funny it is, Professor Elmore, to see the old college buildings usedfor barracks. Dick says it's much livelier than it was when he was astudent there. "

"I suppose it must be, " dreamily assented the professor. "Does he findplenty of volunteers?"

"Well, you know, " the young girl explained, "that the old style ofvolunteering is all over. "

"No, I didn't know it. "

"Yes. It's the bounties now that they rely upon, and they do say that itwill come to the draft very soon, now. Some of the young men have goneto Canada. But everybody despises _them_. Oh, Mrs. Elmore, I shouldthink you'd be _so_ glad to have the professor off here, and honorablyout of the way!"

"I'm _dis_honorably out of the way; I can never forgive myself for notgoing to the war, " said Elmore. 

"Why, how ridiculous!" cried Lily. "Nobody feels that way about it_now_! As Dick Burton says, we've come down to business. I tell you, when you see arms and legs off in every direction, and women going aboutin black, you don't feel that it's such a romantic thing any more. Thereare mighty few engagements now, Mrs. Elmore, when a regiment sets off;no presentation of revolvers in the town hall; and some of the widowshave got married again; and that I don't think _is_ right. But what canthey do, poor things? You remember Tom Friar's widow, Mrs. Elmore?"

"Tom Friar's _widow_! Is Tom Friar _dead_?"

"Why, of course! One of the first. I think it was Ball's Bluff. Well, _she's_ married. But she married his cousin, and as Dick Burton says, that isn't so bad. Isn't it awful, Mrs. Clapp's losing _all_ herboys, --all five of them? It does seem to bear too hard on _some_families. And then, when you see every one of those six Armstrongs goingthrough without a scratch!"

"I suppose, " said Elmore, "that business is at a standstill. The streetsmust look rather dreary. "

"_Business_ at a standstill!" exclaimed Lily. "What _has_ Sue beenwriting you all this time? Why, there never was such prosperity inPatmos before! Everybody is making money, and people that you wouldn'thardly speak to a year ago are giving parties and inviting the oldcollege families. You ought to see the residences and business blocksgoing up all over the place. I don't suppose you would know Patmos now. You remember George Fenton, Mrs. Elmore?"

"Mr. Haskell's clerk?"

"Yes. Well, he's made a fortune out of an army contract; and he's goingto marry--the engagement came out just before I left--Bella Stearns. "

At these words Mrs. Elmore sat upright, --the only posture in which thefact could be imagined. "Lily!"

"Oh, I can tell you these are gay times in America, " triumphed the younggirl. She now put her hand to her mouth and hid a yawn. 

"You're sleepy, " said Mrs. Elmore. "Well, you know the way to your room. You'll find everything ready there, and I shall let you go alone. Youshall commence being at home at once. "

"Yes, I _am_ sleepy, " assented Lily; and she promptly said hergood-nights and vanished; though a keener eye than Elmore's might haveseen that her promptness had a color--or say light--of hesitation in it. 

But he only walked up and down the room, after she was gone, inunheedful distress. "Gay times in America! Good heavens! Is the childutterly heartless, Celia, or is she merely obtuse?"

"She certainly isn't at all like Sue, " sighed Mrs. Elmore, who had nothad time to formulate Lily's defence. "But she's excited now, and alittle off her balance. She'll be different to-morrow. Besides, allAmerica seems changed, and the people with it. We shouldn't have noticedit if we had stayed there, but we feel it after this absence. "

"I never realized it before, as I did from her babble! The letters havetold us the same thing, but they were like the histories of other times. Camps, prisoners, barracks, mutilation, widowhood, death, sudden gains, social upheavals, --it is the old, hideous story of war come true of ourday and country. It's terrible!"

"She will miss the excitement, " said Mrs. Elmore. "I don't know exactlywhat we shall do with her. Of course, she can't expect the attentionsshe's been used to in Patmos, with those young men. "

Elmore stopped, and stared at his wife. "What do you mean, Celia?"

"We don't go into society at all, and she doesn't speak Italian. Howshall we amuse her?"

"Well, upon my word, I don't know that we're obliged to provide heramusement! Let her amuse herself. Let her take up some branch of study, or of--of--research, and get something besides 'fun' into her head, ifpossible. " He spoke boldly, but his wife's question had unnerved him, for he had a soft heart, and liked people about him to be happy. "We canshow her the objects of interest. And there are the theatres, " he added. 

"Yes, that is true, " said Mrs. Elmore. "We can both go about with her. Iwill just peep in at her now, and see if she has everything she wants. "She rose from her sofa and went to Lily's room, whence she did notreturn for nearly three quarters of an hour. By this time Elmore had gotout his notes, and, in their transcription and classification, hadfallen into forgetfulness of his troubles. His wife closed the doorbehind her, and said in a low voice, little above a whisper, as she sankvery quietly into a chair, "Well, it has all come out, Owen. "

"What has all come out?" he asked, looking up stupidly. 

"I knew that she had something on her mind, by the way she acted. Andyou saw her give me that look as she went out?"

"No--no, I didn't. What look was it? She looked sleepy. "

"She looked terribly, terribly excited, and as if she would like to saysomething to me. That was the reason I said I would let her go to herroom alone. "

"Oh!"

"Of course she would have felt awfully if I had gone straight off withher. So I waited. It _may_ never come to anything in the world, and Idon't suppose it will; but it's quite enough to account for everythingyou saw in her. "

"I didn't see anything in her, --that was the difficulty. But what isit--what is it, Celia? You know how I hate these delays. "

"Why, I'm not sure that I need tell you, Owen; and yet I suppose I hadbetter. It will be safer, " said Mrs. Elmore, nursing her mystery to thelast, enjoying it for its own sake, and dreading it for its effect uponher husband. "I suppose you will think your troubles are beginningpretty early, " she suggested. 

"Is it a trouble?"

"Well, I don't know that it is. If it comes to the very worst, I daresay that every one wouldn't call it a trouble. "

Elmore threw himself back in his chair in an attitude of endurance. "What would the worst be?"

"Why, it's no use even to discuss that, for it's perfectly absurd tosuppose that it could ever come to that. But the case, " added Mrs. Elmore, perceiving that further delay was only further suffering for herhusband, and that any fact would now probably fall far short of hisapprehensions, "is simply this, and I don't know that it amounts toanything; but at Peschiera, just before the train started, she lookedout of the window, and saw a splendid officer walking up and down andsmoking; and before she could draw back he must have seen her, for hethrew away his cigar instantly, and got into the same compartment. Hetalked awhile in German with an old gentleman who was there, and then hespoke in Italian with Cazzi; and afterwards, when he heard her speakingEnglish with Cazzi, he joined in. I don't know how he came to join in atfirst, and she doesn't, either; but it seems that he knew some English, and he began speaking. He was very tall and handsome anddistinguished-looking, and a _perfect_ gentleman in his manners; and shesays that she saw Cazzi looking rather queer, but he didn't sayanything, and so she kept on talking. She told him at once that she wasan American, and that she was coming here to stay with friends; and, ashe was very curious about America, she told him all she could think of. It did her good to talk about home, for she had been feeling a littleblue at being so far away from everybody. Now, _I_ don't see any harm init; do you, Owen?"

"It isn't according to the custom here; but we needn't care for that. Ofcourse it was imprudent. "

"Of course, " Mrs. Elmore admitted. "The officer was very polite; andwhen he found that she was from America, it turned out that he was a_great_ sympathizer with the North, and that he had a brother in ourarmy. Don't you think that was nice?"

"Probably some mere soldier of fortune, with no heart in the cause, "said Elmore. 

"And very likely he has no brother there, as I told Lily. He told her hewas coming to Padua; but when they reached Padua, he came right on toVenice. That _shows_ you couldn't place any dependence upon what hesaid. He said he expected to be put under arrest for it; but he didn'tcare, --he was coming. Do you believe they'll put him under arrest?"

"I don't know--I don't know, " said Elmore, in a voice of grief andapprehension, which might well have seemed anxiety for the officer'sliberty. 

"I told her it was one of his jokes. He was very funny, and kept herlaughing the whole way, with his broken English and his witty littleremarks. She says he's just dying to go to America. Who do you supposeit can be, Owen?"

"How should I know? We've no acquaintance among the Austrians, " groanedElmore. 

"That's what I told Lily. She's no idea of the state of things here, andshe was quite horrified. But she says he was a perfect gentleman ineverything. He belongs to the engineer corps, --that's one of the highestbranches of the service, he told her, --and he gave her his card. "

"Gave her his card!"

Mrs. Elmore had it in the hand which she had been keeping in her pocket, and she now suddenly produced it; and Elmore read the name and addressof Ernst von Ehrhardt, Captain of the Royal-Imperial Engineers, Peschiera. "She says she knows he wanted hers, but she didn't offer togive it to him; and he didn't ask her where she was going, or anything. "

"He knew that he could get her address from Cazzi for ten soldi as soonas her back was turned, " said Elmore cynically. "What then?"

"Why, he said--and this is the only really bold thing he _did_ do--thathe must see her again, and that he should stay over a day in Venice inhopes of meeting her at the theatre or somewhere. "

"It's a piece of high-handed impudence!" cried Elmore. "Now, Celia, yousee what these people are! Do you wonder that the Italians hate them?"

"You've often said they only hate their system. "

"The Austrians are part of their system. He thinks he can take anyliberty with us because he is an Austrian officer! Lily must not stirout of the house to-morrow. "

"She will be too tired to do so, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

"And if he molests us further, I will appeal to the consul. " Elmorebegan to walk up and down the room again. 

"Well, I don't know whether you could call it _molesting_, exactly, "suggested Mrs. Elmore. 

"What do you mean, Celia? Do you suppose that she--she--encouraged thisofficer?"

"Owen! It was all in the simplicity and innocence of her heart!"

"Well, then, that she wishes to see him again?"

"Certainly not! But that's no reason why we should be rude about it. "

"Rude about it? How? Is simply avoiding him rudeness? Is proposing toprotect ourselves from his impertinence rudeness?"

"No. And if you can't see the matter for yourself, Owen, I don't knowhow any one is to make you. "

"Why, Celia, one would think that you approved of this man'sbehavior, --that _you_ wished her to meet him again! You understand whatthe consequences would be if we received this officer. You know how allthe Venetians would drop us, and we should have no acquaintances hereoutside of the army. "

"Who has asked you to receive him, Owen? And as for the Italiansdropping us, that doesn't frighten me. But what could he do if he didmeet her again? She needn't look at him. She says he is veryintelligent, and that he has read a great many English books, though hedoesn't speak it very well, and that he knows more about the war thanshe does. But of course she won't go out to-morrow. All that I hate isthat we should seem to be frightened into staying at home. "

"She needn't stay in on his account. You said she would be too tired togo out. "

"I see by the scattering way you talk, Owen, that your mind isn't on thesubject, and that you're anxious to get back to your work. I won't keepyou. "

"Celia, Celia! Be fair, now!" cried Elmore. "You know very well that I'monly too deeply interested in this matter, and that I'm not likely toget back to my work to-night, at least. What is it you wish me to do?"

Mrs. Elmore considered a while. "I don't wish you to do anything, " shereturned placably. "Of course, you're perfectly right in not choosing tolet an acquaintance begun in that way go any further. We shouldn't athome, and we sha'n't here. But I don't wish you to think that Lily hasbeen imprudent, under the circumstances. She doesn't know that it wasanything out of the way, but she happened to do the best that any onecould. Of course, it was very exciting and very romantic; girls likesuch things, and there's no reason they shouldn't. We must manage, "added Mrs. Elmore, "so that she shall see that we appreciate herconduct, and trust in her entirely. I wouldn't do anything to wound herpride or self-confidence. I would rather send her out alone to-morrow. "

"Of course, " said Elmore. 

"And if I were with her when she met him, I believe I should leave itentirely to her how to behave. "

"Well, " said Elmore, "you're not likely to be put to the test. He'llhardly force his way into the house, and she isn't going out. "

"No, " said Mrs. Elmore. She added, after a silence, "I'm trying tothink whether I've ever seen him in Venice; he's here often. But thereare so many tall officers with fair complexions and English beards. I_should_ like to know how he looks! She said he was veryaristocratic-looking. "

"Yes, it's a fine type, " said Elmore. "They're all nobles, I believe. "

"But after all, they're no better looking than our boys, who come up outof nothing. "

"Ours are Americans, " said Elmore. 

"And they are the best husbands, as I told Lily. "

Elmore looked at his wife, as she turned dreamily to leave the room; butsince the conversation had taken this impersonal turn he would not sayanything to change its complexion. A conjecture vaguely taking shape inhis mind resolved itself to nothing again, and left him with only theache of something unascertained. 

V. 

In the morning Lily came to breakfast as blooming as a rose. The senseof her simple, fresh, wholesome loveliness might have pierced even theindifference of a man to whom there was but one pretty woman in theworld, and who had lived since their marriage as if his wife hadabsorbed her whole sex into herself: this deep, unconscious constancywas a noble trait in him, but it is not so rare in men as women wouldhave us believe. For Elmore, Miss Mayhew merely pervaded the place inher finer way, as the flowers on the table did, as the sweet butter, thenew eggs, and the morning's French bread did; he looked at her with aperfectly serene ignorance of her piquant face, her beautiful eyes andabundant hair, and her trim, straight figure. But his wife exulted inevery particular of her charm, and was as generously glad of it as if itwere her own; as women are when they are sure that the charm of othershas no designs. The ladies twittered and laughed together, and as hewas a man without small talk, he soon dropped out of the conversationinto a reverie, from which he found himself presently extracted by aquestion from his wife. 

"We had better go in a gondola, hadn't we, Owen?" She seemed to be, asshe put this, trying to look something into him. He, on his part, triedhis best to make out her meaning, but failed. 

He simply asked, "Where? Are you going out?"

"Yes. Lily has some shopping she _must_ do. I think we can get it atPazienti's in San Polo. "

Again she tried to pierce him with her meaning. It seemed to him asudden advance from the position she had taken the night before inregard to Miss Mayhew's not going out; but he could not understand hiswife's look, and he feared to misinterpret if he opposed her going. Hedecided that she wished him for some reason to oppose the gondola, so hesaid, "I think you'd better walk, if Lily isn't too tired. "

"Oh, _I'm_ not tired at all!" she cried. 

"I can go with you, in that direction, on my way to the library, " headded. 

"Well, that will be very nice, " said Mrs. Elmore, discontinuing herlook, and leaving her husband with an uneasy sense of wantonly assumedresponsibility. 

"She can step into the Frari a moment, and see those tombs, " he said. "Ithink it will amuse her. "

Lily broke into a laugh. "Is that the way you amuse yourselves inVenice?" she asked; and Mrs. Elmore hastened to reassure her. 

"That's the way Mr. Elmore amuses himself. You know his history makesevery bit of the past fascinating to him. "

"Oh, yes, that history! Everybody is looking out for that, " said Lily. 

"Is it possible, " said Elmore, with a pensive sarcasm in which anagreeable sense of flattery lurked, "that people still remember me andmy history?"

"Yes, indeed!" cried Miss Mayhew. "Frank Halsey was talking about it thenight before I left. He couldn't seem to understand why I should becoming to you at Venice, because he said it was a history of Florenceyou were writing. It isn't, is it? You must be getting pretty near theend of it, Professor Elmore. "

"I'm getting pretty near the beginning, " said Elmore sadly. 

"It must be hard writing histories; they're so awfully hard to read, "said Lily innocently. "Does it interest you?" she asked, with unaffectedcompassion. 

"Yes, " he said, "far more than it will ever interest anybody else. "

"Oh, I don't believe that!" she cried sweetly, seizing the occasion toget in a little compliment. 

Mrs. Elmore sat silent, while things were thus going against MissMayhew, and perhaps she was then meditating the stroke by which sherestored the balance to her own favor as soon as she saw her husbandalone after breakfast. "Well, Owen, " she said, "you've done it now. "

"Done what?" he demanded. 

"Oh, nothing, perhaps!" she answered, while she got on her things forthe walk with unusual gayety; and, with the consciousness of unknownguilt depressing him, he followed the ladies upon their errand, subdued, distraught, but gradually forgetting his sin, as he forgot everythingbut his history. His wife hated to see him so miserable, and whisperedat the shop-door where they parted, "Don't be troubled, Owen! I didn'tmean anything. "

"By what?"

"Oh, if you've forgotten, never mind!" she cried; and she and MissMayhew disappeared within. 

It was two hours later when he next saw them, after he had turned overthe book he wished to see, and had found the passage which would enablehim to go on with his work for the rest of the day at home. He wasfitting his key into the house-door when he happened to look up thelittle street toward the bridge that led into it, and there, definedagainst the sky on the level of the bridge, he saw Mrs. Elmore and MissMayhew receiving the adieux of a distinguished-looking man in theAustrian uniform. The officer had brought his heels together in theconventional manner, and with his cap in his right hand, while his leftrested on the hilt of his sword, and pressed it down, he was bowing fromthe hips. Once, twice, and he was gone. 

The ladies came down the _calle_ with rapid steps and flushed faces, andElmore let them in. His wife whispered as she brushed by his elbow, "Iwant to speak with you instantly, Owen. Well, now!" she added, when theywere alone in their own room and she had shut the door, "what do you say_now_?"

"What do _I_ say now, Celia?" retorted Elmore, with just indignation. "It seems to me that it is for _you_ to say something--or nothing. "

"Why, you brought it on us. "

Elmore merely glanced at his wife, and did not speak, for this passedall force of language. 

"Didn't you see me looking at you when I spoke of going out in agondola, at breakfast?"

"Yes. "

"What did you suppose I meant?"

"I didn't know. "

"When I was trying to make you understand that if we took a gondola wecould go and come without being seen! Lily _had_ to do her shopping. Butif you chose to run off on some interpretation of your own, was _I_ toblame, I should like to know? No, indeed! You won't get me to admit it, Owen. "

Elmore continued inarticulate, but he made a low, miserable sibillationbetween his set teeth. 

"Such presumption, such perfect audacity I never saw in my life!" criedMrs. Elmore, fleetly changing the subject in her own mind, and leavingher husband to follow her as he could. "It was outrageous!" Her wordswere strong, but she did not really look affronted; and it is hard totell what sort of liberty it is that affronts a woman. It seems todepend a great deal upon the person who takes the liberty. 

"That was the man, I suppose, " said Elmore quietly. 

"Yes, Owen, " answered his wife, with beautiful candor, "it was. " Seeingthat he remained unaffected by her display of this virtue, she added, "Don't you think he was very handsome?"

"I couldn't judge, at such a distance. "

"Well, he is perfectly splendid. And I don't want you to think he wasdisrespectful at all. He wasn't. He was everything that was delicateand deferential. "

"Did you ask him to walk home with you?"

Mrs. Elmore remained speechless for some moments. Then she drew a longbreath, and said firmly: "If you won't interrupt me with gratuitousinsults, Owen, I will tell you all about it, and then perhaps you willbe ready to do me _justice_. I ask nothing more. " She waited for hiscontrition, but proceeded without it, in a somewhat meeker strain: "Lilycouldn't get her things at Pazienti's, and we had to go to the Merceriafor them. Then of course the nearest way home was through St. Mark'sSquare. I made Lily go on the Florian side, so as to avoid the officerswho were sitting at the Quadri, and we had got through the square andpast San Moïsè, as far as the Stadt Gratz. I had never thought of howthe officers frequented the Stadt Gratz, but there we met a mostmagnificent creature, and I had just said, 'What a splendid officer!'when she gave a sort of stop and he gave a sort of stop, and bowed verylow, and she whispered, 'It's my officer. ' I didn't dream of his joiningus, and I don't think he did, at first; but after he took a second lookat Lily, it really seemed as if he couldn't help it. He asked if hemight join us, and I didn't say anything. "

"Didn't say anything!"

"_No!_ How could I refuse, in so many words? And I was frightened andconfused, any way. He asked if we were going to the music in theGiardini Pubblici; and I said No, that Miss Mayhew was not going intosociety in Venice, but was merely here for her health. That's all thereis of it. Now do you blame me, Owen?"

"No. "

"Do you blame her?"

"No. "

"Well, I don't see how _he_ was to blame. "

"The transaction was a little irregular, but it was highly creditable toall parties concerned. "

Mrs. Elmore grew still meeker under this irony. Indignation and censureshe would have known how to meet; but his quiet perplexed her: she didnot know what might not be coming. "Lily scarcely spoke to him, " shepursued, "and I was very cold. I spoke to him in German. "

"Is German a particularly repellent tongue?"

"No. But I was determined he should get no hold upon us. He was verypolite and very respectful, as I said, but I didn't give him an atom ofencouragement; I saw that he was dying to be asked to call, but I partedfrom him very stiffly. "

"Is it possible?"

"Owen, what _is_ there so wrong about it all? He's clearly fascinatedwith her; and as the matter stood, he had no hope of seeing her orspeaking with her except on the street. Perhaps he didn't know it waswrong, --or didn't realize it. "

"I dare say. "

"What else could the poor fellow have done? There he was! He had stayedover a day, and laid himself open to arrest, on the bare chance--one ina hundred--of seeing Lily; and when he did see her, what was he to do?"

"Obviously, to join her and walk home with her. "

"You are too bad, Owen! Suppose it had been one of our own poor boys? He_looked_ like an American. "

"He didn't behave like one. One of 'our own poor boys, ' as you callthem, would have been as far as possible from thrusting himself uponyou. He would have had too much reverence for you, too muchself-respect, too much pride. "

"What has pride to do with such things, my dear? I think he acted verynaturally. He acted upon impulse. I'm sure you're always crying outagainst the restraints and conventionalities between young people, overhere; and now, when a European _does_ do a simple, unaffected thing--"

Elmore made a gesture of impatience. "This fellow has presumed upon yourbeing Americans--on your ignorance of the customs here--to take aliberty that he would not have dreamed of taking with Italian or Germanladies. He has shown himself no gentleman. "

"Now there you are very much mistaken, Owen. That's what I thought whenLily first told me about his speaking to her in the cars, and I was verymuch prejudiced against him; but when I saw him to-day, I must say thatI felt that I had been wrong. He is a gentleman; but--he is desperate. "

"Oh, indeed!"

"Yes, " said Mrs. Elmore, shrinking a little under her husband'ssarcastic tone. "Why, Owen, " she pleaded, "can't you see anythingromantic in it?"

"I see nothing but a vulgar impertinence in it. I see it from hisstandpoint as an adventure, to be bragged of and laughed over at themess-table and the caffè. I'm going to put a stop to it. "

Mrs. Elmore looked daunted and a little bewildered. "Well, Owen, " shesaid, "I put the affair entirely in your hands. "

Elmore never could decide upon just what theory his wife had acted; hehad to rest upon the fact, already known to him, of her perfect truthand conscientiousness, and his perception that even in a good woman thepassion for manoeuvring and intrigue may approach the point at whichmen commit forgery. He now saw her quelled and submissive; but he was byno means sure that she looked at the affair as he did, or that shevoluntarily acquiesced. 

"All that I ask is that you won't do anything that you'll regretafterward. And as for putting a stop to it, I fancy it's put a stop toalready. He's going back to Peschiera this afternoon, and that'llprobably be the last of him. "

"Very well, " said Elmore, "if that is the last of him, I ask nothingbetter. I certainly have no wish to take any steps in the matter. "

But he went out of the house very unhappy and greatly perplexed. Hethought at first of going to the Stadt Gratz, where Captain Ehrhardt wasprobably staying for the tap of Vienna beer peculiar to that hostelry, and of inquiring him out, and requesting him to discontinue hisattentions; but this course, upon reflection, was less high-handed thancomported with his present mood, and he turned aside to seek advice ofhis consul. He found Mr. Hoskins in the best humor for backing hisquarrel. He had just received a second dispatch from Turin, stating thatthe rumor of the approaching visit of the Alabama was unfounded; and hewas thus left with a force of unexpended belligerence on his hands whichhe was glad to contribute to the defence of Mr. Elmore's family from thepursuit of this Austrian officer. 

"This is a very simple affair, Mr. Elmore, "--he usually said "Elmore, "but in his haughty frame of mind, he naturally threw something more ofstate into their intercourse, --"a very simple affair, fortunately. Allthat I have to do is to call on the military governor, and state thefacts of the case, and this fellow will get his orders quietly and_definitively_. This war has sapped our influence in Europe, --there's nodoubt of it; but I think it's a pity if an American family living inthis city can't be safe from molestation; and if it can't, I want toknow the reason why. "

This language was very acceptable to Elmore, and he thanked the consul. At the same time he felt his own resentment moderated, and he said, "I'mwilling to let the matter rest if he goes away this afternoon. "

"Oh, of course, " Hoskins assented, "if he clears out, that's the end ofit. I'll look in to-morrow, and see how you're getting along. "

"Don't--don't give them the impression that I've--profited by yourkindness, " suggested Elmore at parting. 

"You haven't yet. I only hope you may have the chance. "

"Thank you; I don't think _I_ do. "

Elmore took a long walk, and returned home tranquillized and clarifiedas to the situation. Since it could be terminated without difficulty andwithout scandal in the way Hoskins had explained, he was not unwillingto see a certain poetry in it. He could not repress a degree of sympathywith the bold young fellow who had overstepped the conventionalproprieties in the ardor of a romantic impulse, and he could see howthis very boldness, while it had a terror, would have a charm for ayoung girl. There was no necessity, except for the purpose of holdingMrs. Elmore in check, to look at it in an ugly light. Perhaps theofficer had inferred from Lily's innocent frankness of manner that thissort of approach was permissible with Americans, and was not amusinghimself with the adventure, but was in love in earnest. Elmore couldallow himself this view of a case which he had so completely in his ownhands; and he was sensible of a sort of pleasure in the novelresponsibility thrown upon him. Few men at his age were called upon tostand in the place of a parent to a young girl, to intervene in heraffairs, and to decide who was and who was not a proper person topretend to her acquaintance. 

Feeling so secure in his right, he rebelled against the restraint he hadproposed to himself, and at dinner he invited the ladies to go to theopera with him. He chose to show himself in public with them, and tocheck any impression that they were without due protection. As usual, the pit was full of officers, and between the acts they all rose, asusual, and faced the boxes, which they perused through their_lorgnettes_ till the bell rang for the curtain to rise. But Mrs. Elmore, having touched his arm to attract his notice, instructed him, bya slow turning of her head, that Captain Ehrhardt was not there. Afterthat he undoubtedly breathed freer, and, in the relaxation from hissense of bravado, he enjoyed the last acts of the opera more than thefirst. Miss Mayhew showed no disappointment; and she bore herself withso much grace and dignity, and yet so evidently impressed every one withher beauty, that he was proud of having her in charge. He began himselfto see that she was pretty. 

VI. 

The next day was Sunday, and in going to church they missed a call fromHoskins, whom Elmore felt bound to visit the following morning on hisway to the library, and inform of his belief that the enemy had quittedVenice, and that the whole affair was probably at an end. He wasstrengthened in this opinion by Mrs. Elmore's fear that she might havebeen colder than she supposed; she hoped that she had not hurt the pooryoung fellow's feelings; and now that he was gone, and safely out of theway, Elmore hoped so too. 

On his return from the library, his wife met him with an air of mysterybefore which his heart sank. "Owen, " she said, "Lily has a letter. "

"Not bad news from home, Celia!"

"No; a letter which she wishes to show you. It has just come. As I don'twish to influence you, I would rather not be present. " Mrs. Elmoreslipped out of the room, and Miss Mayhew glided gravely in, holding anopen note in her hand, and looking into Elmore's eyes with a certainunfathomable candor, of which she had the secret. 

"Here, " she said, "is a letter which I think you ought to see at once, Professor Elmore"; and she gave him the note with an air of unconcern, which he afterward recalled without being able to determine whether itwas real indifference or only the calm resulting from the transfer ofthe whole responsibility to him. She stood looking at him while he read:

 MISS, In this evening I am just arrived from Venise, 4 hours afterwards I have had the fortune to see you and to speake with you--and to favorite me of your gentil acquaintanceship at rail-away. I never forgeet the moments I have seen you. Your pretty and nice figure had attached my heard so much, that I deserted in the hopiness to see you at Venise. And I was so lukely to speak with you cut too short, and in the possibility to understand all. I wished to go also in this Sonday to Venise, but I am sory that I cannot, beaucause I must feeled now the consequences of the desertation. Pray Miss to agree the assurance of my lov, and perhaps I will be so lukely to receive a notice from you Miss if I can hop a little (hapiness) sympathie. Très humble

 E. VON EHRHARDT. 

Elmore was not destitute of the national sense of humor; but he readthis letter not only without amusement in its English, but with intensebitterness and renewed alarm. It appeared to him that the willingnessof the ladies to put the affair in his hands had not strongly manifesteditself till it had quite passed their own control, and had become a mostembarrassing difficulty, --when, in fact, it was no longer a merit inthem to confide it to him. In the resentment of that moment, hissuspicions even accused his wife of desiring, from idle curiosity andsentiment, the accidental meeting which had resulted in this freshaggression. 

"Why did you show me this letter?" he asked harshly. 

"Mrs. Elmore told me to do so, " Lily answered. 

"Did _you_ wish me to see it?"

"I don't suppose I _wished_ you to see it: I thought you ought to seeit. "

Elmore felt himself relenting a little. "What do you want done aboutit?" he asked more gently. 

"That is what I wished you to tell me, " replied the girl. 

"I can't tell you what you wish me to do, but I can tell you this, MissMayhew: this man's behavior is totally irregular. He would not think ofwriting to an Italian or German girl in this way. If he desiredto--to--pay attention to her, he would write to her father. "

"Yes, that's what Mrs. Elmore said. She said she supposed he must thinkit was the American way. "

"Mrs. Elmore, " began her husband; but he arrested himself there, andsaid, "Very well. I want to know what I am to do. I want your full andexplicit authority before I act. We will dismiss the fact ofirregularity. We will suppose that it is fit and becoming for agentleman who has twice met a young lady by accident--or once byaccident, and once by his own insistence--to write to her. Do you wishto continue the correspondence?"

"No. "

Elmore looked into the eyes which dwelt full upon him, and, though theywere clear as the windows of heaven, he hesitated. "I must do what you_say_, no matter what you mean, you know?"

"I mean what I say. "

"Perhaps, " he suggested, "you would prefer to return him this letterwith a few lines on your card. "

"No. I should like him to know that I have shown it to you. I shouldthink it a liberty for an American to write to me in that way after sucha short acquaintance, and I don't see why I should tolerate it from aforeigner, though I suppose their customs _are_ different. "

"Then you wish me to write to him?"

"Yes. "

"And make an end of the matter, once for all?"

"Yes--"

"Very well, then. " Elmore sat down at once, and wrote:--

 SIR, --Miss Mayhew has handed me your note of yesterday, and begs me to express her very great surprise that you should have ventured to address her. She desires me also to add that you will consider at an end whatever acquaintance you suppose yourself to have formed with her. 

 Your obedient servant, OWEN ELMORE. 

He handed the note to Lily. "Yes, that will do, " she said, in a low, steady voice. She drew a deep breath, and, laying the letter softlydown, went out of the room into Mrs. Elmore's. 

Elmore had not had time to kindle his sealing-wax when his wife appearedswiftly upon the scene. 

"I want to see what you have written, Owen, " she said. 

"Don't talk to me, Celia, " he replied, thrusting the wax into thecandle-light. "You have put this affair entirely in my hands, and Lilyapproves of what I have written. I am sick of the thing, and I don'twant any more talk about it. "

"I _must_ see it, " said Mrs. Elmore, with finality, and possessedherself of the note. She ran it through, and then flung it on the tableand dropped into a chair, while the tears started to her eyes. "What acold, cutting, merciless letter!" she cried. 

"I hope he will think so, " said Elmore, gathering it up from the table, and sealing it securely in its envelope. 

"You're not going to _send_ it!" exclaimed his wife. 

"Yes, I am. "

"I didn't suppose you could be so heartless. "

"Very well, then, I _won't_ send it, " said Elmore. "I put the affair in_your_ hands. What are you going to do about it?"

"Nonsense!"

"On the contrary, I'm perfectly serious. I don't see why you shouldn'tmanage the business. The gentleman is an acquaintance of yours. _I_don't know him. " Elmore rose and put his hands in his pockets. "What doyou intend to do? Do you like this clandestine sort of thing to go on? Idare say the fellow only wishes to amuse himself by a flirtation with apretty American. But the question is whether you wish him to do so. I'mwilling to lay his conduct to a misunderstanding of our customs, and tosuppose that he thinks this is the way Americans do. I take the matterat its best: he speaks to Lily on the train without an introduction; hejoins you in your walk without invitation; he writes to her withoutleave, and proposes to get up a correspondence. It is all perfectlyright and proper, and will appear so to Lily's friends when they hear ofit. But I'm curious to know how you're going to manage the sequel. Doyou wish the affair to go on, and how long do you wish it to go on?"

"You know very well that I don't wish it to go on. "

"Then you wish it broken off?"

"Of course I do. "

"How?"

"I think there is such a thing as acting kindly and considerately. Idon't see anything in Captain Ehrhardt's conduct that calls for _savage_treatment, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

"You would like to have him stopped, but stopped gradually. Well, Idon't wish to be savage, either, and I will act upon any suggestion ofyours. I want Lily's people to feel that we managed not only wisely buthumanely in checking a man who was resolved to force his acquaintanceupon her. "

Mrs. Elmore thought a long while. Then she said: "Why, of course, Owen, you're right about it. There _is_ no other way. There couldn't be anykindness in checking him gradually. But I wish, " she added sorrowfully, "that he had not been such a _complete_ goose; and then we could havedone something with him. "

"I am obliged to him for the perfection which you regret, my dear. If hehad been less complete, he would have been much harder to manage. "

"Well, " said Mrs. Elmore, rising, "I shall always say that he meantwell. But send the letter. "

Her husband did not wait for a second bidding. He carried it himself tothe general post-office that there might be no mistake and no delayabout it; and a man who believed that he had a feeling and tender heartexperienced a barbarous joy in the infliction of this pitiless snub. Ido not say that it would not have been different if he had trusted atall in the sincerity of Captain Ehrhardt's passion; but he was glad todiscredit it. A misgiving to the other effect would have complicated thematter. But now he was perfectly free to disembarrass himself of atrouble which had so seriously threatened his peace. He was responsibleto Miss Mayhew's family, and Mrs. Elmore herself could not say, then orafterward, that there was any other way open to him. I will not contendthat his motives were wholly unselfish. No doubt a sense of personalannoyance, of offended decorum, of wounded respectability, qualified thezeal for Miss Mayhew's good which prompted him. He was still a youngand inexperienced man, confronted with a strange perplexity: he did thebest he could, and I suppose it was the best that could be done. At anyrate, he had no regrets, and he went cheerfully about the work ofinteresting Miss Mayhew in the monuments and memories of the city. 

Since the decisive blow had been struck, the ladies seemed to share hisrelief. The pursuit of Captain Ehrhardt, while it flattered, might wellhave alarmed, and the loss of a not unpleasant excitement was made goodby a sense of perfect security. Whatever repining Miss Mayhew indulgedwas secret, or confided solely to Mrs. Elmore. To Elmore himself sheappeared in better spirits than at first, or at least in a more equableframe of mind. To be sure, he did not notice very particularly. He tookher to the places and told her the things that she ought to beinterested in, and he conceived a better opinion of her mind from thequick intelligence with which she entered into his own feelings inregard to them, though he never could see any evidence of the over-studyfor which she had been taken from school. He made her, like Mrs. Elmore, the partner of his historical researches; he read his notes to both ofthem now; and when his wife was prevented from accompanying him, he wentwith Lily alone to visit the scenes of such events as his researchesconcerned, and to fill his mind with the local color which he believedwould give life and character to his studies of the past. They also wentoften to the theatre; and, though Lily could not understand the plays, she professed to be entertained, and she had a grateful appreciation ofall his efforts in her behalf that amply repaid him. He grew fond of hersociety; he took a childish pleasure in having people in the streetsturn and glance at the handsome girl by his side, of whose beauty andstylishness he became aware through the admiration looked over theshoulders of the Austrians, and openly spoken by the Italian populace. It did not occur to him that she might not enjoy the growth of theiracquaintance in equal degree, that she fatigued herself with theappreciation of the memorable and the beautiful, and that she foundthese long rambles rather dull. He was a man of little conversation;and, unless Mrs. Elmore was of the company, Miss Mayhew pursued hispleasures for the most part in silence. One evening, at the end of theweek, his wife asked, "Why do you always take Lily through the Piazza onthe side farthest from where the officers sit? Are you afraid of hermeeting Captain Ehrhardt?"

"Oh, no! I consider the Ehrhardt business settled. But you know theItalians never walk on the officers' side. "

"You are not an Italian. What do you gain by flattering them up? Ishould think you might suppose a young girl had some curiosity. "

"I do; and I do everything I can to gratify her curiosity. I went to SanPietro di Castello to-day, to show her where the Brides of Venice werestolen. "

"The oldest and dirtiest part of the city! What _could_ the child carefor the Brides of Venice? Now be reasonable, Owen!"

"It's a romantic story. I thought girls liked such things, --aboutgetting married. "

"And that's the reason you took her yesterday to show her the Bucentaurthat the doges wedded the Adriatic in! Well, what was your idea in goingwith her to the Cemetery of San Michele?"

"I thought she would be interested. I had never been there beforemyself, and I thought it would be a good opportunity to verify a passageI was at work on. We always show people the cemetery at home. "

"That was considerate. And why did you go to Canarregio on Wednesday?"

"I wished her to see the statue of Sior Antonio Rioba; you know it wasthe Venetian Pasquino in the Revolution of '48--"

"Charming!"

"And the Campo di Giustizia, where the executions used to take place. "

"Delightful!"

"And--and--the house of Tintoretto, " faltered Elmore. 

"Delicious! She cares so much for Tintoretto! And you've been with herto the Jewish burying-ground at the Lido, and the Spanish synagogue inthe Ghetto, and the fish-market at the Rialto, and you've shown her thehouse of Othello and the house of Desdemona, and the prisons in theducal palace; and three nights you've taken us to the Piazza as soon asthe Austrian band stopped playing, and all the interesting promenadingwas over, and those stuffy old Italians began to come to the caffès. Well, I can tell you that's no way to amuse a young girl. We must dosomething for her, or she will die. She has come here from a countrywhere girls have always had the best time in the world, and where thetimes are livelier now than they ever were, with all this excitement ofthe war going on; and here she is dropped down in the midst of thisabsolute deadness: no calls, no picnics, no parties, no dances--nothing!We must do something for her. "

"Shall we give her a ball?" asked Elmore, looking round the prettylittle apartment. 

"There's nothing going on among the Italians. But you might get usinvited to the German Casino. "

"I dare say. But I will not do that. "

"Then we could go to the Luogotenenza, to the receptions. Mr. Hoskinscould call with us, and they would send us cards. "

"That would make us simply odious to the Venetians, and our house wouldbe thronged with officers. What I've seen of them doesn't make meparticularly anxious for the honor of their further acquaintance. "

"Well, I don't ask you to do any of these things, " said Mrs. Elmore, whohad, in fact, mentioned them with the intention of insisting upon anabated claim. "But I think you _might_ go and dine at one of thehotels--at the Danieli--instead of that Italian restaurant; and thenLily could see somebody at the table d'hôte, and not simply _perish_ ofdespair. "

"I--I didn't suppose it was so bad as that, " said Elmore. 

"Why, of course, she hasn't said anything, --she's far too well-bred forthat; but I can tell from my own feelings how she must suffer. I haveyou, Owen, " she said tenderly, "but Lily has _nobody_. She has gonethrough this Ehrhardt business so well that I think we ought to do allwe can to divert her mind. "

"Well, now, Celia, you see the difficulty of our position, --the natureof the responsibility we have assumed. How are we possibly, here inVenice, to divert the mind of a young lady fresh from the parties andpicnics of Patmos?"

"We can go and dine at the Danieli, " replied Mrs. Elmore. 

"Very well, let us go, then. But she will learn no Italian there. Shewill hear nothing but English from the travellers and bad French fromthe waiters; while at our restaurant--"

"Pshaw!" cried Mrs. Elmore, "what does Lily care for Italian? I'm sure_I_ never want to hear another word of it. "

At this desperate admission, Elmore quite gave way; he went to theDanieli the next morning, and arranged to begin dining there that day. There is no denying that Miss Mayhew showed an enthusiasm in prospect ofthe change that even the sight of the pillar to which Foscarini washanged head downwards for treason to the Republic had not evoked. Shemade herself look very pretty, and she was visibly an impression at thetable d'hôte when she sat down there. Elmore had found places oppositean elderly lady and quite a young gentleman, of English speech, but ofnot very English effect otherwise, who bowed to Lily in acknowledgmentof some former meeting. The old lady said, "So you've reached Venice atlast? I'm very pleased, for your sake, " as if at some point of theprogress thither she had been privy to anxieties of Lily about arrivingat her destination; and, in fact, they had been in the same hotels atMarseilles and Genoa. The young gentleman said nothing, but he looked atLily throughout the dinner, and seemed to take his eyes from her onlywhen she glanced at him; then he dropped his gaze to his neglected plateand blushed. When they left the table, he made haste to join the Elmoresin the reading-room, where he contrived, with creditable skill, to getLily apart from them for the examination of an illustrated newspaper, atwhich neither of them looked; they remained chatting and laughing overit in entire irrelevancy till the elderly lady rose and said, "Herbert, Herbert! I am ready to go now, " upon which he did not seem at all so, but went submissively. 

"Who are those people, Lily?" asked Mrs. Elmore, as they walked towardsFlorian's for their after-dinner coffee. The Austrian band was playingin the centre of the Piazza, and the tall, blond German officerspromenaded back and forth with dark Hungarian women, who looked eachlike a princess of her race. The lights glittered upon them, and on thebrilliant groups spread fan-wise out into the Piazza before the caffès;the scene seemed to shake and waver in the splendor, like somethingpainted. 

"Oh, their name is Andersen, or something like that; and they're fromHelgoland, or some such place. I saw them first in Paris, but we didn'tspeak till we got to Marseilles. That's his aunt; they're Englishsubjects, someway; and he's got an appointment in the civil service--Ithink he called it--in India, and he doesn't want to go; and I told himhe ought to go to America. That's what I tell all these Europeans. "

"It's the best advice for them, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

"They don't seem in any great haste to act upon it, " laughed MissMayhew. "Who was the red-faced young man that seemed to know you, andstared so?"

"That's an English artist who is staying here. He has a curiousname, --Rose-Black; and he is the most impudent and pushing man in theworld. I wouldn't introduce him, because I saw he was just dying forit. "

Miss Mayhew laughed, as she laughed at everything, not because she wasamused, but because she was happy; this childlike gayety of heart wasgreat part of her charm. 

Elmore had quieted his scruples as a good Venetian by coming inside ofthe caffè while the band played, instead of sitting outside with the badpatriots; but he put the ladies next the window, and so they were notaltogether sacrificed to his sympathy with the _dimostrazione_. 

VII. 

The next morning Elmore was called from his bed--at no very early hour, it must be owned, but at least before a nine o'clock breakfast--to see agentleman who was waiting in the parlor. He dressed hurriedly, with athousand exciting speculations in his mind, and found Mr. Rose-Blacklooking from the balcony window. "You have a pleasant position here, " hesaid easily, as he turned about to meet Elmore's look of indignantdemand. "I've come to ask all about our friends the Andersens. "

"I don't know anything about them, " answered Elmore. "I never saw thembefore. "

"Aöh!" said the painter. Elmore had not invited him to sit down, but nowhe dropped into a chair, with the air of asking Elmore to explainhimself. "The young lady of your party seemed to know them. Howuncommonly pretty all your American young girls are! But I'm told theyfade very soon. I should like to make up a picnic party with you all forthe Lido. "

"Thank you, " replied Elmore stiffly. "Miss Mayhew has seen the Lido. "

"Aöh! _That's_ her name. It's a pretty name. " He looked through the opendoor into the dining-room, where the table was set for breakfast, withthe usual water-goblet at each plate. "I see you have beer forbreakfast. There's nothing so nice, you know. Would you--would you mindgiving me a glahs?"

Through an undefined sense of the duties of hospitality, Elmore wassurprised by this impudence into sending out to the next caffè for apitcher of beer. Rose-Black poured himself out one glass and anothertill he had emptied the pitcher, conversing affably meanwhile with hissilent host. 

"_Why_ didn't you turn him out of doors?" demanded Mrs. Elmore, as soonas the painter's departure allowed her to slip from the closed doorbehind which she had been imprisoned in her room. 

"I did everything _but_ that, " replied her husband, whom this interviewhad saddened more than it had angered. 

"You sent out for beer for him!"

"I didn't know but it might make him sick. Really, the thing isincredible. I think the man is cracked. "

"He is an Englishman, and he thinks he can take any kind of liberty withus because we are Americans. "

"That seems to be the prevalent impression among all the Europeannationalities, " said Elmore. "Let's drop him for the present, and try tobe more brutal in the future. "

Mrs. Elmore, so far from dropping him, turned to Lily, who entered atthat moment, and recounted the extraordinary adventure of the morning, which scarcely needed the embellishment of her fancy; it was not reallya gallon of beer, but a quart, that Mr. Rose-Black had drunk. Sheenlarged upon previous aggressions of his, and said finally that theyhad to thank Mr. Ferris for his acquaintance. 

"Ferris couldn't help himself, " said Elmore. "He apologized to meafterward. The man got him into a corner. But he warned us about him assoon he could. And Rose-Black would have made our acquaintance, any way. I believe he's crazy. "

"I don't see how that helps the matter. "

"It helps to explain it, " concluded Elmore, with a sigh. "We can't refereverything to our being American lambs, and his being a raveningEuropean wolf. "

"Of course he came round to find out about Lily, " said Mrs. Elmore. "The Andersens were a mere blind. "

"Oh, Mrs. Elmore!" cried Lily in deprecation. 

The bell jangled. "That is the postman, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

There was a home-letter for Lily, and one from Lily's sister enclosed toMrs. Elmore. The ladies rent them open, and lost themselves in thecross-written pages; and neither of them saw the dismay with whichElmore looked at the handwriting of the envelope addressed to him. Hiswife vaguely knew that he had a letter, and meant to ask him for it assoon as she should have finished her own. When she glanced at him again, he was staring at the smiling face of Miss Mayhew, as she read herletter, with the wild regard of one who sees another in mortal peril, and can do nothing to avert the coming doom, but must dumbly await thecatastrophe. 

"What is it, Owen?" asked his wife in a low voice. 

He started from his trance, and struggled to answer quietly. "I've aletter here which I suppose I'd better show to you first. "

They rose and went into the next room, Miss Mayhew following them with abright, absent look, and then dropping her eyes again to her letter. 

Elmore put the note he had received into his wife's hands without aword. 

 SIR, --My position permitted me to take a woman. I am a soldier, but I am an engineer--operateous, and I can exercise wherever my profession in the civil life. I have seen Miss Mayhew, and I have great sympathie for she. I think I will be lukely with her, if Miss Mayhew would be of the same intention of me. 

 If you believe, Sir, that my open and realy proposition will not offendere Miss Mayhew, pray to handed to her this note. Pray sir to excuse me the liberty to fatigue you, and to go over with silence if you would be of another intention. 

 Your obedient servant, E. VON EHRHARDT. 

Mrs. Elmore folded the letter carefully up and returned it to herhusband. If he had perhaps dreaded some triumphant outburst from her, heought to have been content with the thoroughly daunted look which shelifted to his, and the silence in which she suffered him to do justiceto the writer. 

"This is the letter of a gentleman, Celia, " he said. 

"Yes, " she responded faintly. 

"It puts another complexion on the affair entirely. "

"Yes. Why did he wait a whole week?" she added. 

"It is a serious matter with him. He had a right to take time forthinking it over. " Elmore looked at the date of the Peschiera postmark, and then at that of Venice on the back of the envelope. "No, he wrote atonce. This has been kept in the Venetian office, and probably read thereby the authorities. "

His wife did not heed the conjecture. "He began all wrong, " she grieved. "Why couldn't he have behaved sensibly?"

"We must look at it from another point of view now, " replied Elmore. "Hehas repaired his error by this letter. "

"No, no; he hasn't. "

"The question is now what to do about the changed situation. This is anoffer of marriage. It comes in the proper way. It's a very sincere andmanly letter. The man has counted the whole cost: he's ready to leavethe army and go to America, if she says so. He's in love. How can sherefuse him?"

"Perhaps she isn't in love with him, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

"Oh! That's true. I hadn't thought of that. Then it's very simple. "

"But I don't know that she isn't, " murmured Mrs. Elmore. 

"Well, ask her. "

"How could _she_ tell?"

"How could she _tell_?"

"Yes. Do you suppose a child like that can know her own mind in aninstant?"

"I should think she could. "

"Well, she couldn't. She liked the excitement, --the romanticality of it;but she doesn't know any more than you or I whether she cares for him. Idon't suppose marriage with anybody has ever seriously entered her headyet. "

"It will have to do so now, " said Elmore firmly. "There's no help forit. "

"I think the American plan is much better, " pouted Mrs. Elmore. "It'shorrid to know that a man's in love with you, and wants to marry you, from the very start. Of course it makes you hate him. "

"I dare say the American plan is better in this as in most other things. But we can't discuss abstractions, Celia. We must come down to business. What are we to do?"

"I don't know. "

"We must submit the question to her. "

"To that innocent, unsuspecting little thing? Never!" cried Mrs. Elmore. 

"Then we must decide it, as he seems to expect we may, without referenceto her, " said her husband. 

"No, that won't do. Let me think. " Mrs. Elmore thought to so littlepurpose that she left the word to her husband again. 

"You see we must lay the matter before her. "

"Couldn't--couldn't we let him come to see us awhile? Couldn't weexplain our ways to him, and allow him to pay her attentions withoutletting her know about this letter?"

"I'm afraid he wouldn't understand, --that we couldn't make it clear tohim, " said Elmore. "If we invited him to the house he would consider itas an acceptance. He wants a categorical answer, and he has a right toit. It would be no kindness to a man with his ideas to take him onprobation. He has behaved honorably, and we're bound to consider him. "

"Oh, I don't think he's done anything so very great, " said Mrs. Elmore, with that disposition we all have to disparage those who put us indifficulties. 

"He's done everything he could do, " said Elmore. "Shall I speak to MissMayhew?"

"No, you had better let me, " sighed his wife. "I suppose we must. But Ithink it's horrid! Everything could have gone on so nicely if he hadn'tbeen so impatient from the beginning. Of course she won't have him now. She will be scared, and that will be the end of it. "

"I think you ought to be just to him, Celia. I can't help feeling forhim. He has thrown himself upon our mercy, and he has a claim to rightand thoughtful treatment. "

"She won't have anything to do with him. You'll see. "

"I shall be very glad of that, " Elmore began. 

"_Why_ should you be glad of it?" demanded his wife. 

He laughed. "I think I can safely leave his case in your hands. Don't goto the other extreme. If she married a German, he would let her blackhis boots, --like that general in Munich. "

"Who is talking of marriage?" retorted Mrs. Elmore. 

"Captain Ehrhardt and I. That's what it comes to; and it can't come toanything else. I like his courage in writing English, and it's wonderfulhow he hammers his meaning into it. 'Lukely' isn't bad, is it? And 'myposition permitted me to take a woman'--I suppose he means that he hasmoney enough to marry on--is delicious. Upon my word, I have a good dealof sympathie for he!"

"For shame, Owen! It's wicked to make fun of his English. "

"My dear, I respect him for writing in English. The whole letter istouchingly brave and fine. Confound him! I wish I had never heard ofhim. What does he come bothering across my path for?"

"Oh, don't feel that way about it, Owen!" cried his wife. "It's cruel. "

"I don't. I wish to treat him in the most generous manner; after all, itisn't his fault. But you must allow, Celia, that it's very annoying andextremely perplexing. _We_ can't make up Miss Mayhew's mind for her. Even if we found out that she liked him, it would be only the beginningof our troubles. _We've_ no right to give her away in marriage, or lether involve her affections here. But be judicious, Celia. "

"It's easy enough to say that!"

"I'll be back in an hour, " said Elmore. "I'm going to the Square. Wemustn't lose time. "

As he passed out through the breakfast-room, Lily was sitting by thewindow with her letter in her lap, and a happy smile on her lips. Whenhe came back she happened to be seated in the same place; she still hada letter in her lap, but she was smiling no longer; her face was turnedfrom him as he entered, and he imagined a wistful droop in that cornerof her mouth which showed on her profile. 

But she rose very promptly, and with a heightened color said, "I amsorry to trouble you to answer another letter for me, Professor Elmore. I manage my correspondence at home myself, but here it seems to bedifferent. "

"It needn't be different here, Lily, " said Elmore kindly. "You cananswer all the letters you receive in just the way you like. We don'tdoubt your discretion in the least. We will abide by any decision ofyours, on any point that concerns yourself. "

"Thank you, " replied the girl; "but in this case I think you had betterwrite. " She kept slipping Ehrhardt's letter up and down between herthumb and finger against the palm of her left hand, and delayed givingit to him, as if she wished him to say something first. 

"I suppose you and Celia have talked the matter over?"

"Yes. "

"And I hope you have determined upon the course you are going to take, quite uninfluenced?"

"Oh, quite so. "

"I feel bound to tell you, " said Elmore, "that this gentleman has nowdone everything that we could expect of him, and has fully atoned forany error he committed in making your acquaintance. "

"Yes, I understand that. Mrs. Elmore thought he might have writtenbecause he saw he had gone too far, and couldn't think of any other wayout of it. "

"That occurred to me, too, though I didn't mention it. But we're boundto take the letter on its face, and that's open and honorable. Have youmade up your mind?"

"Yes. "

"Do you wish for delay? There is no reason for haste. "

"There's no reason for delay, either, " said the girl. Yet she did notgive up the letter, or show any signs of intending to terminate theinterview. "If I had had more experience, I should know how to actbetter; but I must do the best I can, without the experience. I thinkthat even in a case like this we should try to do right, don't you?"

"Yes, above all other cases, " said Elmore, with a laugh. 

She flushed in recognition of her absurdity. "I mean that we oughtn't tolet our feelings carry us away. I saw so many girls carried away bytheir feelings, when the first regiments went off, that I got a horrorof it. I think it's wicked: it deceives both; and then you don't knowhow to break the engagement afterward. "

"You're quite right, Lily, " said Elmore, with a rising respect for thegirl. 

"Professor Elmore, can you believe that, with all the attentions I'vehad, I've never seriously thought of getting married as the end of itall?" she asked, looking him freely in the eyes. 

"I can't understand it, --no man could, I suppose, --but I do believe it. Mrs. Elmore has often told me the same thing. "

"And this--letter--it--means marriage. "

"That and nothing else. The man who wrote it would consider himselfcruelly wronged if you accepted his attentions without the distinctpurpose of marrying him. "

She drew a deep breath. "I shall have to ask you to write a refusal forme. " But still she did not give him the letter. 

"Have you made up your mind to that?"

"I can't make up my mind to anything else. "

Elmore walked unhappily back and forth across the room. "I have seensomething of international marriages since I've been in Europe, " hesaid. "Sometimes they succeed; but generally they're wretched failures. The barriers of different race, language, education, religion, --they'reterrible barriers. It's very hard for a man and woman to understandeach other at the best; with these differences added, it's almost ahopeless case. "

"Yes; that's what Mrs. Elmore said. "

"And suppose you were married to an Austrian officer stationed in Italy. You would have _no_ society outside of the garrison. Every other humancreature that looked at you would hate you. And if you were ordered tosome of those half barbaric principalities, --Moldavia or Wallachia, orinto Hungary or Bohemia, --everywhere your husband would be an instrumentfor the suppression of an alien or disaffected population. What a fatefor an American girl!"

"If he were good, " said the girl, replying in the abstract, "she needn'tcare. "

"If he were good, you needn't care. No. And he might leave the Austrianservice, and go with you to America, as he hints. What could he dothere? He might get an appointment in our army, though that's not soeasy now; or he might go to Patmos, and live upon your friends till hefound something to do in civil life. "

Lily began a laugh. "Why, Professor Elmore, _I_ don't want to marry him!What in the world are you arguing with me for?"

"Perhaps to convince myself. I feel that I oughtn't to let theseconsiderations weigh as a feather in the balance if you are at all--atall--ahem! excuse me!--attached to him. That, of course, outweighseverything else. "

"But I'm _not_!" cried the girl "How _could_ I be? I've only met himtwice. It would be perfectly ridiculous. I _know_ I'm not. I ought toknow that if I know anything. "

Years afterward it occurred to Elmore, when he awoke one night, and hismind without any reason flew back to this period in Venice, that shemight have been referring the point to him for decision. But now it onlyseemed to him that she was adding force to her denial; and he observednothing hysterical in the little laugh she gave. 

"Well, then, we can't have it over too soon. I'll write now, if you willgive me his letter. "

She put it behind her. "Professor Elmore, " she said, "I am not going tohave you think that he ever behaved in the least presumingly. Andwhatever you think of me, I must tell you that I suppose I talked veryfreely with him, --just as freely, as I should with an American. I didn'tknow any better. He was very interesting, and I was homesick, and soglad to see any one who could speak English. I suppose I was a goose;but I felt very far away from all my friends, and I was grateful forhis kindness. Even if he had never written this last letter, I shouldalways have said that he was a true gentleman. "

"Well?"

"That is all. I can't have him treated as if he were an adventurer. "

"You want him dismissed?"

"Yes. "

"A man can't distinguish as to the terms of a dismissal. They're alwaysinsolent, --more insolent than ever if you try to make them kindly. Ishould merely make this as short and sharp as possible. "

"Yes, " she said breathlessly, as if the idea affected her respiration. 

"But I will show it to you, and I won't send it without your approval. "

"Thank you. But I shall not want to see it. I'd rather not. " She wasgoing out of the room. 

"Will you leave me his letter? You can have it again. "

She turned red in giving it him. "I forgot. Why, it's written to you, anyway!" she cried, with a laugh, and put the letter on the table. 

The two doors opened and closed: one excluded Lily, and the otheradmitted Mrs. Elmore. 

"Owen, I approve of all you said, except that about the form of therefusal. I will read what you say. I intend that it _shall_ be madekindly. "

"Very well. I'll copy a letter of yours, or write from your dictation. "

"No; you write it, and I'll criticise it. "

"Oh, you talk as if I were eager to write the letter! Can't you imagineit's being a very painful thing to me?" he demanded. 

"It didn't seem to be so before. "

"Why, the situation wasn't the same before he wrote this letter!"

"I don't see how. He was as much in earnest then as he is now, and youhad no pity for him. "

"Oh, my goodness!" cried Elmore desperately. "Don't you see thedifference? He hadn't given any proof before"--

"Oh, proof, proof! You men are always wanting proof! What better proofcould he have given than the way he followed her about? Proof, indeed! Isuppose you'd like to have Lily prove that she doesn't care for him!"

"Yes, " said Elmore sadly, "I should like very much to have her proveit. "

"Well, you won't get her to. What makes you think she does?"

"I don't. Do you?"

"N-o, " answered Mrs. Elmore reluctantly. 

"Celia, Celia, you will drive me mad if you go on in this way! The girlhas told me, over and over, that she wishes him dismissed. Why do youthink she doesn't?"

"I don't. Who hinted such a thing? But I don't want you to _enjoy_ doingit. "

"_Enjoy_ it? So you think I enjoy it! What do you suppose I'm made of?Perhaps you think I enjoyed catechizing the child about her feelingstoward him? Perhaps you think I enjoy the whole confounded affair? Well, I give it up. I will let it go. If I can't have your full and heartysupport, I'll let it go. I'll do nothing about it. "

He threw Ehrhardt's letter on the table, and went and sat down by thewindow. His wife took the letter up and read it over. "Why, you see heasks you to pass it over in silence if you don't consent. "

"Does he?" asked Elmore. "I hadn't noticed that. "

"Perhaps you'd better read some of your letters, Owen, before you answerthem!"

"Really, I had forgotten. I had forgotten that the letter was written tome at all. I thought it was to Lily, and she had got to thinking so too. Well, then, I won't do anything about it. " He drew a breath of relief. 

"Perhaps, " suggested his wife, "he asked that so as to leave himselfsome hope if he should happen to meet her again. "

"And we don't wish him to have any hope. "

Mrs. Elmore was silent. 

"Celia, " cried her husband indignantly, "I can't have you playing fastand loose with me in this matter!"

"I suppose I may have time to think?" she retorted. 

"Yes, if you will tell me what you _do_ think; but that I _must_ know. It's a thing too vital in its consequences for me to act without yourfull concurrence. I won't take another step in it till I know just howfar you have gone with me. If I may judge of what this man's influenceupon Lily would be by the fact that he has brought us to the verge ofthe only real quarrel we've ever had"--

"Who's quarrelling, Owen?" asked Mrs. Elmore meekly. "I'm not. "

"Well, well! we won't dispute about that. I want to know whether youthought with me that it was improper for him to address her in the car?"

"Yes. "

"And still more improper for him to join you in the street?"

"Yes. But he was very gentlemanly. "

"No matter about that. You were just as much annoyed as I was by hisletter to her?"

"I don't know about annoyed. It scared me. "

"Very well. And you approved of my answering it as I did?"

"I had nothing to do with it. I thought you were acting conscientiously. I'll say that much. "

"You've got to say more. You have got to say you approved of it; for youknow you did. "

"Oh--_approved_ of it? Yes!"

"That's all I want. Now I agree with you that if we pass this letter insilence, it will leave him with some hope. You agree with me that in amarriage between an American girl and an Austrian officer the chanceswould be ninety-nine to a hundred against her happiness at the best. "

"There are a great many unhappy marriages at home, " said Mrs. Elmoreimpartially. 

"That isn't the point, Celia, and you know it. The point is whether youbelieve the chances are for or against her in such a marriage. Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Agree with me?"

"Yes; but I say they _might_ be _very_ happy. I shall always say that. "

Elmore flung up his hands in despair. "Well, then, say what shall bedone now. "

This was perhaps just what Mrs. Elmore did not choose to say. She wassilent a long time, --so long that Elmore said, "But there's really nohaste about it, " and took some notes of his history out of a drawer, andbegan to look them over, with his back turned to her. 

"I never knew anything so heartless!" she cried. "Owen, this _must_ beattended to at once! I can't have it hanging over me any longer. It willmake me sick. "

He turned abruptly round, and, seating himself at the table, wrote anote, which he pushed across to her. It acknowledged the receipt ofCaptain von Ehrhardt's letter, and expressed Miss Mayhew's feeling thatthere was nothing in it to change her wish that the acquaintance shouldcease. In after years, the terms of this note did not always appear toElmore wisely chosen or humanely considered; but he stood at bay, and hestruck mercilessly. In spite of the explicit concurrence of both MissMayhew and his wife, he felt as if they were throwing wholly upon him aresponsibility whose fearfulness he did not then realize. Even in hiswife's "Send it!" he was aware of a subtile reservation on her part. 

VIII. 

Mrs. Elmore and Lily again rose buoyantly from the conclusive event, buthe succumbed to it. For the delicate and fastidious invalid, keeping hishealth evenly from day to day upon the condition of a free and peacefulmind, the strain had been too much. He had a bad night, and the next daya gastric trouble declared itself which kept him in bed half the week, and left him very weak and tremulous. His friends did not forget himduring this time. Hoskins came regularly to see him, and supplied hisplace at the table d'hôte of the Danieli, going to and fro with theladies, and efficiently protecting them from the depredations of theAustrian soldiery. From Mr. Rose-Black he could not protect them; andboth the ladies amused Elmore with a dramatization of how the Englishmanhad boldly outwitted them, and trampled all their finessing under foot, by simply walking up to them in the reading-room, and saying, "This isMiss Mayhew, I suppose, " and putting himself at once on the footing ofan old family friend. They read to Elmore, and they put his papers inorder, so that he did not know where to find anything when he got well;but they always came home from the hotel with some lively gossip, andthis he liked. They professed to recognize an anxiety on the part of Mr. Andersen's aunt that his mind should not be diverted from the civilservice in India by thoughts of young American ladies; but she sent somedelicacies to Elmore, and one day she even came to call with her nephew, in extreme reluctance and anxiety as they pretended to him. 

The next afternoon the young man called alone, and Elmore, who was nowon foot, received him in the parlor, before the ladies came in. Mr. Andersen had a bunch of flowers in one hand, and a small wooden boxcontaining a little turtle on a salad-leaf in the other; the pooranimals are sold in the Piazza at Venice for souvenirs of the city, andpeople often carry them away. Elmore took the offerings simply, as hetook everything in life, and interpreted them as an expression, howeverodd, of Mr. Andersen's sympathy with his recent sufferings, of which hegave him some account; but he practised a decent self-denial, here, andthey were already talking of the weather when the ladies appeared. Hehastened to exhibit the tokens of Mr. Andersen's kind remembrance, andwas mystified by the young man's confusion, and the impatient, almostcontemptuous, air with which his wife listened to him. Hoskins came inat that moment to ask about Elmore's health, and showed the hostilecivility to Andersen which young men use toward each other in thepresence of ladies; and then, seeing that the latter had secured theplace at Miss Mayhew's side on the sofa, he limped to the easy chairnear Mrs. Elmore, and fell into talk with her about Rose-Black'spictures, which he had just seen. They were based upon an endeavor totrace the moral principles believed by Mr. Ruskin to underlie Venetianart, and they were very queer, so Hoskins said; he roughly sketched anidea of some of them on a block he took from his pocket. 

Mr. Andersen and Lily went out upon one of the high-railed balconiesthat overhung the canal, and stood there, with their backs to theothers. She seemed to be listening, with averted face, while he, withhis cheek leaning upon one hand and his elbow resting on the balconyrail, kept a pensive attitude after they had apparently ceased to speak. Something in their pose struck the sculptor's fancy, and he made a hastysketch of them, and was showing it to the Elmores when Lily suddenlydescended into the room again, and, saying something about its beingquite dark, went out, and left Mr. Andersen to make his adieux to theothers. He startled them by saying that he was to set off for India inthe morning, and he went away very melancholy. 

"Well, I don't know, " said Hoskins, thoughtfully retouching his sketch, "that I should feel very lively about going out to India myself. "

"He seems to be a very affectionate young fellow, " observed Elmore, "andI've no doubt he will feel the separation from his friends. But I reallydon't know why he should have brought me a bouquet, and a small turtlein a box, on the eve of his departure. "

"What?" cried Hoskins, with a rude guffaw; and when Elmore had showedhis gifts, Hoskins threw back his head and laughed indecently. Hisbehavior nettled Elmore, and it sent Mrs. Elmore prematurely out of theroom; for, not content with his explosions of laughter, he continued forsome time to amuse himself by touching up with the point of his pencilthe tail of the turtle which he had turned out of its box upon thetable. At Mrs. Elmore's withdrawal he stopped, and presently saidgood-night rather soberly. 

Then she returned. "Owen, " she asked sadly, "did you really think theseflowers and that turtle were for you?"

"Why, yes, " he answered. 

"Well, I don't know whether I wouldn't almost rather it had been a joke. I believe that I would rather despise your heart than your head. Whyshould Mr. Andersen bring _you_ flowers and a turtle?"

"Upon my word, I don't know. "

"They were for Lily! And your mistake has added another pang to the pooryoung fellow's suffering. She has just refused him, " she said; and asElmore continued to glare blankly at her, she added: "She was refusinghim there on the balcony while that disgusting Mr. Hoskins was sketchingthem; and he had his hand up, that way, because he was crying. "

"This is horrible, Celia!" cried Elmore. The scent of the flowers lyingon the table seemed to choke him; the turtle clawing about on the smoothsurface looked demoniacal. "Why----"

"Now, don't ask me why she refused him, Owen. Of course she couldn'tcare for a boy like that. But he can't realize it, and it's just asmiserable for him as if he were a thousand years old. "

Elmore hung his head. "It was all a mistake. But how should I know anybetter? I am a straightforward man, Celia; and I am unfit for the carethat has been thrown upon me. It's more than I can bear. No, I'm _not_fit for it!" he cried at last; and his wife, seeing him so crushed, nowsaid something to console him. 

"I know you're not. I see it more and more. But I know that you will dothe best you can, and that you will always act from a good motive. Only_do_ try to be more on your guard. "

"I will--I will, " he answered humbly. 

He had a temptation, the next time he visited Hoskins, to tell him theawful secret, and to see how the situation of that night, with thislurid light upon it, affected him: it could do poor Andersen, now on hisway to India, no harm. He yielded to his temptation, at the same timethat he confessed his own blunder about the flowers. 

Hoskins whistled. "I tell you what, " he said, after a long pause, "thereare some things in history that I never could realize, --like Mary, Queenof Scots, for instance, putting on her best things, and stepping downinto the front parlor of that castle to have her head off. But a thinglike this, happening on your own balcony, _helps_ you to realize it. "

"It helps you to realize it, " assented Elmore, deeply oppressed by thetragic parallel. 

"He's just beginning to feel it about now, " said Hoskins, with strange_sang froid_. "I reckon it's a good deal like being shot. I didn't fullyappreciate my little hit under a couple of days. Then I began to findout that something had happened. Look here, " he added, "I want to showyou something;" and he pulled the wet cloth off a breadth of clay whichhe had set up on a board stayed against the wall. It was a bas-reliefrepresenting a female figure advancing from the left corner over astretch of prairie towards a bulk of forest on the right; bison, bear, and antelope fled before her; a lifted hand shielded her eyes; a starlit the fillet that bound her hair. 

"That's the best thing you've done, Hoskins, " said Elmore. "What do youcall it?"

"Well, I haven't settled yet. I _have_ thought of 'Westward the Star ofEmpire, ' but that's rather long; and I've thought of 'AmericanEnterprise. ' I ain't in any hurry to name it. You like it, do you?"

"I like it immensely!" cried Elmore. "You must let me bring the ladiesto see it. "

"Well, not just yet, " said the sculptor, in some confusion. "I want toget it a little further along first. "

They stood looking together at the figure; and when Elmore went away hepuzzled himself about something in it, --he could not tell exactly what. He thought he had seen that face and figure before, but this is whatoften occurs to the connoisseur of modern sculpture. His mind heavilyreverted to Lily and her suitors. Take her in one way, especially in hersubordination to himself, the girl was as simply a child as any in theworld, --good-hearted, tender, and sweet, and, as he could see, withouttendency to flirtation. Take her in another way, confront her with ayoung and marriageable man, and Elmore greatly feared that sheunconsciously set all her beauty and grace at work to charm him; anotherlife seemed to inform her, and irradiate from her, apart from which sheexisted simple and childlike still. In the security of his own depositedaffections, it appeared to him cruelly absurd that a passion which anyother pretty girl might, and some other pretty girl in time must, havekindled, should cling, when once awakened, so inalienably to the prettygirl who had, in a million chances, chanced to awaken it. He wonderedhow much of this constancy was natural, and how much merely attributiveand traditional, and whether human happiness or misery were increased byit on the whole. 

IX. 

In the respite which followed the dismissal of Andersen, the Englishpainter, Rose-Black, visited the Elmores as often as the servant, whohad orders in his case to say that they were _impediti_, failed of herduty. They could not always escape him at the caffè, and they would haveleft off dining at the hotel but for the shame of feeling that he haddriven them away. If he had been an Englishman repelling their advances, instead of an Englishman pursuing them, he could not have been moreoffensive. He affronted their national as well as personal self-esteem;he early declared himself a sympathizer with the Southrons (as theLondon press then called them), and he expressed the current belief ofhis compatriots, that we were going to the dogs. 

"What do you really make of him, Owen?" asked Mrs. Elmore, after anevening that, in its improbable discomfort, had passed quite like anightmare. 

"Well, I've been thinking a good deal about him. I have been wonderingif, in his phenomenal way, he is not a final expression of the nationalgenius, --the stupid contempt for the rights of others; the tacit denialof the rights of any people who are at English mercy; the assumptionthat the courtesies and decencies of life are for use exclusivelytowards Englishmen. "

This was in that embittered old war-time: we have since learned howforbearing and generous and amiable Englishmen are; how they never takeadvantage of any one they believe stronger than themselves, or fail inconsideration for those they imagine their superiors; how you have butto show yourself successful in order to win their respect, and evenaffection. 

But for the present Mrs. Elmore replied to her husband's pervertedideas, "Yes, it must be so, " and she supported him in the ineffectualexperiment of deferential politeness, Christian charity, broad humanity, and savage rudeness upon Rose-Black. It was all one to Rose-Black. 

He took an air of serious protection towards Mrs. Elmore, and often gaveher advice, while he practised an easy gallantry with Lily, and ignoredElmore altogether. His intimacy was superior to the accidents of theirmoods, and their slights and snubs were accepted apparently asinteresting expressions of a civilization about which he was insatiablycurious, especially as regarded the relations of young people. There wasno mistaking the fact that Rose-Black in his way had fallen under thespell which Elmore had learned to dread; but there was nothing to bedone, and he helplessly waited. He saw what must come; and one eveningit came, when Rose-Black, in more than usually offensive patronage, lolled back upon the sofa at Miss Mayhew's side, and said, "Aboutflirtations, now, in America, --tell me something about flirtations. We've heard so much about your American flirtations. We only have themwith married ladies, on the continent, and I don't suppose Mrs. Elmorewould think of one. "

"I don't know what you mean, " said Lily. "I don't know anything aboutflirtations. "

This seemed to amuse Rose-Black as an uncommonly fine piece of Americanhumor, which was then just beginning to make its way with the English. "Oh, but come, now, you don't expect me to believe that, you know. Ifyou won't tell me, suppose you show me what an American flirtation islike. Suppose we get up a flirtation. How should you begin?"

The girl rose with a more imposing air than Elmore could have imaginedof her stature; but almost any woman can be awful in emergencies. "Ishould begin by bidding you good-evening, " she answered, and swept outof the room. 

Elmore felt as if he had been left alone with a man mortally hurt incombat, and were likely to be arrested for the deed. He gazed withfascination upon Rose-Black, and wondered to see him stir, and at lastrise, and with some incoherent words to them, get himself away. He darednot lift his gaze to the man's eyes, lest he should see there somereflection of the pain that filled his own. He would have gone afterhim, and tried to say something in condolence, but he was quite helplessto move; and as he sat still, gazing at the door through whichRose-Black disappeared, Mrs. Elmore said quietly:--

"Well, really, I think that ought to be the last of him. You see, she'squite able to take care of herself when she knows her ground. You can'tsay that she has thrown the brunt of this affair upon you, Owen. "

"I am not so sure of that, " sighed Elmore. "I think I suffer less when Ido it than when I see it. It's horrible. "

"He deserved it, every bit, " returned his wife. 

"Oh, I dare say, " Elmore granted. "But the sight even of justice isn'tpleasant, I find. "

"I don't understand you, Owen. How can you care so much for thisimpudent wretch's little snub, and yet be so indifferent about refusingCaptain Ehrhardt?"

"I'm not indifferent about it, my dear. I know that I did right, but Idon't know that I could do right under the same circumstances again. "

In fact there were times when Elmore found almost insupportable theabsolute conclusion to which that business had come. It is hard tobelieve that anything has come to an end in this world. For a time, death itself leaves the ache of an unsatisfied expectation, as ifsomehow the interrupted life must go on, and there is no change we makeor suffer which is not denied by the sensation of daily habit. IfEhrhardt had really come back from the vague limbo to which he had beenso inexorably relegated, he might only have restored the originalsituation in all its discomfort and apprehension; yet maintaining, as hedid, this perfect silence and absence, he established a hold uponElmore's imagination which deepened because he could not discuss thematter frankly with his wife. He weakly feared to let her know what waspassing in his thoughts, lest some misconception of hers should turnthem into self-accusal or urge him to some attempt at the reparationtowards which he wavered. He really could have done nothing that wouldnot have made the matter worse, and he confined himself to speculatingupon the character and history of the man whom he knew only by theincoherent hearsay of two excited women, and by the brief record of hopeand passion left in the notes which Lily treasured somewhere among thearchives of a young girl's triumphs. He had a morbid curiosity to seethese letters again, but he dared not ask for them; and indeed it wouldhave been an idle self-indulgence: he remembered them perfectly well. Seeing Lily so indifferent, it was characteristic of him, in that safetyfrom consequences which he chiefly loved, that he should tacitlyconstitute himself, in some sort, the champion of her rejected suitor, whose pain he luxuriously fancied in all its different stages anddegrees. His indolent pity even developed into a sort of self-righteousabhorrence of the girl's hardness. But this was wholly within himself, and could work no sort of harm. If he never ventured to hint thesefeelings to his wife, he was still further from confessing them to Lily;but once he approached the subject with Hoskins in a well-guardedgenerality relating to the different kinds of sensibility developed bythe European and American civilization. A recent suicide for love whichexcited all Venice at that time--an Austrian officer hopelesslyattached to an Italian girl had shot himself--had suggested their talk, and given fresh poignancy to the misgivings in Elmore's mind. 

"Well, " said Hoskins, "those Dutch are queer. They don't look at womenas respectfully as we do, and they mix up so much cabbage with theirromance that you don't know exactly how to take them; and yet here youfind this fellow suffering just as much as a white man because thegirl's folks won't let her have him. In fact, I don't know but hesuffered more than the average American citizen. I think we have a greatdeal more common sense in our love-affairs. We respect women more thanany other people, and I think we show them more true politeness; we let'em have their way more, and get their finger into the pie right along, and it's right we should: but we don't make fools of ourselves aboutthem, as a general rule. We know they're awfully nice, and they know weknow it; and it's a perfectly understood thing all round. We've beenused to each other all our lives, and they're just as sensible as weare. They like a fellow, when they do like him, about as well as any of'em; but they know he's a man and a brother after all, and he's got everso much human nature in him. Well, now, I reckon one of these Dutchchaps, the first time he gets a chance to speak with a pretty girl, thinks he's got hold of a goddess, and I suppose the girl feels just soabout him. Why, it's natural they should, --they've never had any chanceto know any better, and your feelings _are_ apt to get the upper hand ofyou, at such times, anyway. I don't blame 'em. One of 'em goes off andshoots himself, and the other one feels as if she was never going to getover it. Well, now, look at the way Miss Lily acted in that littlebusiness of hers: one of these girls over here would have had her headcompletely turned by that adventure; but when she couldn't see her wayexactly clear, she puts the case in your hands, and then stands by whatyou do, as calm as a clock. "

"It was a very perplexing thing. I did the best I knew, " said Elmore. 

"Why, of course you did, " cried Hoskins, "and she sees that as well asyou or I do, and she stands by you accordingly. I tell you, that girl'sgot a cool head. "

In his soul Elmore ungratefully and inconsistently wished that her heartwere not equally cool; but he only said, "Yes, she is a good andsensible girl. I hope the--the--other one is equally resigned. "

"Oh, _he_'ll get along, " answered Hoskins, with the indifference of oneman for the sufferings of another in such matters. We are able to offera brother very little comfort and scarcely any sympathy in those unhappyaffairs of the heart which move women to a pretty compassion for adisappointed sister. A man in love is in no wise interesting to us forthat reason; and if he is unfortunate, we hope at the farthest that hewill have better luck next time. It is only here and there that asentimentalist like Elmore stops to pity him; and it is not certain thateven he would have sighed over Captain Ehrhardt if he had not been themeans of his disappointment. As it was, he came away, feeling thatdoubtless Ehrhardt had "got along, " and resolved at least to spend nomore unavailing regrets upon him. 

The time passed very quietly now, and if it had not been for Hoskins, the ladies must have found it dull. He had nothing to do, except as hemade himself occupation with his art, and he willingly bestowed on themthe leisure which Elmore could not find. They went everywhere with him, and saw the city to advantage through his efforts. Doors, closed toordinary curiosity, opened to the magic of his card, and he showed apleasure in using such little privileges as his position gave him fortheir amusement. He went upon errands for them; he was like a brother, with something more than a brother's pliability; he came half the timeto breakfast with them, and was always welcome to all. He had the giftof extracting comfort from the darkest news about the war; he was aprophet of unfailing good to the Union cause, and in many hours ofdespondency they willingly submitted to the authority of his greaterexperience, and took heart again. 

"I like your indomitable hopefulness, Hoskins, " said Elmore, on one ofthose occasions when the consul was turning defeat into victory. "There's a streak of unconscious poetry in it, just as there is in yourtaking up the subjects you do. I imagine that, so far as the judgment ofthe world goes, our fortunes are at the lowest ebb just now--"

"Oh, the world is wrong!" interrupted the consul. "Those London papersare all in the pay of the rebels. "

"I mean that we have no sort of sympathy in Europe; and yet here youare, embodying in your conception of 'Westward' the arrogant faith ofthe days when our destiny seemed universal union and universal dominion. There is something sublime to me in your treatment of such a work atsuch a time. I think an Italian, for instance, if his country wereinvolved in a life and death struggle like this of ours, would haveexpressed something of the anxiety and apprehension of the time in it;but this conception of yours is as serenely undisturbed by the facts ofthe war as if secession had taken place in another planet. There issomething Greek in that repose of feeling, triumphant over circumstance. It is like the calm beauty which makes you forget the anguish of theLaocoön. "

"Is that so, Professor?" said Hoskins, blushing modestly, as an artistoften must in these days of creative criticism. He seemed to reflectawhile before he added, "Well, I reckon you're partly right. If we everdid go to smash, it would take us a whole generation to find it out. Wehave all been raised to put so much dependence on Uncle Sam, that if theold gentleman really did pass in his checks we should only think he waslying low for a new deal. I never happened to think it out before, butI'm pretty sure it's so. "

"Your work wouldn't be worth half so much to me if you had 'thought itout, '" said Elmore. "It's the unconsciousness of the faith that makesits chief value, as I said before; and there is another thing about itthat interests and pleases me still more. "

"What's that?" asked the sculptor. 

"The instinctive way in which you have given the figure an entirelyAmerican quality. There was something very familiar to me in it, thefirst time you showed it, but I've only just been able to formulate myimpression: I see now that while the spirit of your conception is Greek, you have given it, as you ought, the purest American expression. Your'Westward' is no Hellenic goddess: she is a vivid and self-reliantAmerican girl. "

At these words, Hoskins reddened deeply, and seemed not to know where tolook. Mrs. Elmore had the effect of escaping through the door into herown room, and Miss Mayhew ran out upon the balcony. Hoskins followedeach in turn with a queer glance, and sat a moment in silence. Then hesaid, "Well, I reckon I must be going, " and went rather abruptly, without offering to take leave of the ladies. 

As soon as he was gone, Lily came in from the balcony, and whipped intoMrs. Elmore's room, from which she flashed again in swift retreat to herown, and was seen no more; and then Mrs. Elmore came back, with aflushed face, to where her husband sat mystified. 

"My dear, " he said gravely, "I'm afraid you've hurt Mr. Hoskins'sfeelings. "

"Do you think so?" she asked; and then she burst into a wild cry oflaughter. "O, Owen, Owen! you will kill me yet!"

"Really, " he replied with dignity, "I don't see any occasion in what Isaid for this extraordinary behavior. "

"Of course you don't, and that's just what makes the fun of it. So youfound something familiar in Mr. Hoskins's statue from the first, didyou?" she asked. "And you didn't notice anything particular in it?"

"Particular, particular?" he demanded, beginning to lose his patience atthis. 

"Oh, " she exclaimed, "couldn't you see that it was Lily, all overagain?"

Elmore laughed in turn. "Why, so it is; so it is! That accounts foreverything that puzzled me. I don't wonder my maunderings amused you. It_was_ ridiculous, to be sure! When in the world did she give him thesittings, and how did you manage to keep it from me so well?"

"Owen!" cried his wife, with terrible severity. "You don't think thatLily would _let_ him put her into it?"

"Why, I supposed--I didn't know--I don't see how he could have done itunless--"

"He did it without leave or license, " said Mrs. Elmore. "We saw it allalong, but he never 'let on, ' as he would say, about it, and we nevermeant to say anything, of course. "

"Then, " replied Elmore, delighted with the fact, "it has been a purelyunconscious piece of cerebration. "

"Cerebration!" exclaimed Mrs. Elmore, with more scorn than she knew howto express. "I should think as much!"

"Well, I don't know, " said Elmore, with the pique of a man who does notcare to be quite trampled under foot. "I don't see that the theory is sovery unphilosophical. "

"Oh, not at all!" mocked his wife. "It's philosophical to the lastdegree. Be as philosophical as you please, Owen; I shall love you stillthe same. " She came up to him where he sat, and twisting her arm roundhis face, patronizingly kissed him on top of the head. Then she releasedhim, and left him with another burst of derision. 

X. 

After this Elmore had such an uncomfortable feeling that he hated to seeHoskins again, and he was relieved when the sculptor failed to make hisusual call, the next evening. He had not been at dinner either, and hedid not reappear for several days. Then he merely said that he had beenspending the time at Chioggia, with a French painter who was making somestudies down there, and they all took up the old routine of theirfriendly life without embarrassment. 

At first it seemed to Elmore that Lily was a little shy of Hoskins, andhe thought that she resented his using her charm in his art; but beforethe evening wore away, he lost this impression. They all got into a longtalk about home, and she took her place at the piano and played some ofthe war-songs that had begun to supersede the old negro melodies. Thenshe wandered back to them, with fingers that idly drifted over the keys, and ended with "Stop dat knockin', " in which Hoskins joined with hispowerful bass in the recitative "Let me in, " and Elmore himself had halfa mind to attempt a part. The sculptor rose as she struck the keys witha final crash, but lingered, as his fashion was when he had something topropose: if he felt pretty sure that the thing would be liked, hebrought it in as if he had only happened to remember it. He now drew outa large, square, ceremonious-looking envelope, at which he glanced asif, after all, he was rather surprised to see it, and said, "Oh, by theby, Mrs. Elmore, I wish you'd tell me what to do about this thing. Here's something that's come to me in my official capacity, but it isn'texactly consular business, --if it was I don't believe I should ask _any_lady for instructions, --and I don't know exactly what to do. It's solong since I corresponded with a princess that I don't even know how toanswer her letter. "

The ladies perhaps feared a hoax of some sort, and would not ask to seethe letter; and then Hoskins recognized his failure to play upon theircuriosity with a laugh, and gave the letter to Mrs. Elmore. It was aninvitation to a mask ball, of which all Venice had begun to speak. Agreat Russian lady, who had come to spend the winter in the Lagoons, andhad taken a whole floor at one of the hotels, had sent out her cards, apparently to all the available people in the city, for the event whichwas to take place a fortnight later. In the mean time, a thrill ofpreparation was felt in various quarters, and the ordinary course oflife was interrupted in a way that gave some idea of the old times, whenVenice was the capital of pleasure, and everything yielded there to thegreat business of amusement. Mrs. Elmore had found it impossible to geta pair of fine shoes finished until after the ball; a dress which Lilyhad ordered could not be made; their laundress had given notice that forthe present all fluting and quilling was out of the question; onealready heard that the chief Venetian perruquier and his assistants wereengaged for every moment of the forty-eight hours before the ball, andthat whoever had him now must sit up with her hair dressed for twonights at least. Mrs. Elmore had a fanatical faith in these stories; andwhile agreeing with her husband, as a matter of principle, that maskballs were wrong, and that it was in bad taste for a foreigner to insultthe sorrow of Venice by a festivity of the sort at such a time, she hadsecretly indulged longings which the sight of Hoskins's invitationrendered almost insupportable. Her longings were not for herself, butfor Lily: if she could provide Lily with the experience of a masqueradein Venice, she could overpay all the kindnesses that the Mayhews hadever done her. It was an ambition neither ignoble nor ungenerous, and itwas with a really heroic effort that she silenced it in passing theinvitation to her husband, and simply saying to Hoskins, "Of course youwill go. "

"I don't know about that, " he answered. "That's the point I want someadvice on. You see this document calls for a lady to fill out the bill. "

"Oh, " returned Mrs. Elmore, "you will find some Americans at the hotels. You can take them. "

"Well, now, I was thinking, Mrs. Elmore, that I should like to takeyou. "

"Take me!" she echoed tremulously. "What an idea! I'm too old to go tomask balls. "

"You don't look it, " suggested Hoskins. 

"Oh, I couldn't go, " she sighed. "But it's very, very kind. "

Hoskins dropped his head, and gave the low chuckle with which heconfessed any little bit of humbug. "Well, you _or_ Miss Lily. "

Lily had retired to the other side of the room as soon as the parleyabout the invitation began. Without asking or seeing, she knew what wasin the note, and now she felt it right to make a feint of not knowingwhat Mrs. Elmore meant when she asked, "What do _you_ say, Lily?"

When the question was duly explained to her, she answered languidly, "Idon't know. Do you think I'd better?"

"I might as well make a clean breast of it, first as last, " saidHoskins. "I thought perhaps Mrs. Elmore might refuse, she's so stiffabout some things, "--here he gave that chuckle of his, --"and so I cameprepared for contingencies. It occurred to me that it mightn't be quitethe thing, and so I went round to the Spanish consul and asked him howhe thought it would do for me to matronize a young lady if I could getone, and he said he didn't think it would do at all. " Hoskins let thisadverse decision sink into the breasts of his listeners before he added:"But he said that he was going with his wife, and that if we would comealong she could matronize us both. I don't know how it would work, " heconcluded impartially. 

They all looked at Elmore, who stood holding the princess's missive inhis hand, and darkly forecasting the chances of consent and denial. Atthe first suggestion of the matter, a reckless hope that this ball mightbring Ehrhardt above their horizon again sprang up in his heart, andbecame a desperate fear when the whole responsibility of action was, asusual, left with him. He stood, feeling that Hoskins had used him veryill. 

"I suppose, " began Mrs. Elmore very thoughtfully, "that this will besomething quite in the style of the old masquerades under the Republic. "

"Regular Ridotto business, the Spanish consul says, " answered Hoskins. 

"It might be very useful to you, Owen, " she resumed, "in an historicalway, if Lily were to go and take notes of everything; so that when youcame to that period you could describe its corruptions intelligently. "

Elmore laughed. "I never thought of that, my dear, " he said, returningthe invitation to Hoskins. "Your historical sense has been awakenedlate, but it promises to be very active. Lily had better go, by allmeans, and I shall depend upon her coming home with very full notes uponher dance-list. "

They laughed at the professor's sarcasm, and Hoskins, having undertakento see that the last claims of etiquette were satisfied by getting aninvitation sent to Miss Mayhew through the Spanish consul, went off, andleft the ladies to the discussion of ways and means. Mrs. Elmore saidthat of course it was now too late to hope to get anything done, andthen set herself to devise the character that Lily would have appearedin if there had been time to get her ready, or if all the work-peoplehad not been so busy that it was merely frantic to think of anything. She first patriotically considered her as Columbia, with the customarydrapery of stars and stripes and the cap of liberty. But while holdingthat she would have looked very pretty in the dress, Mrs. Elmore decidedthat it would have been too hackneyed; and besides, everybody would haveknown instantly who it was. 

"Why not have had her go in the character of Mr. Hoskins's 'Westward'?"suggested Elmore, with lazy irony. 

"The very thing!" cried his wife. "Owen, you deserve great credit forthinking of that; no one else would have done it! No one will dream whatit means, and it will be great fun, letting them make it out. We mustkeep it a dead secret from Mr. Hoskins, and let her surprise him with itwhen he comes for her that evening. It will be a very pretty way ofreturning his compliment, and it will be a sort of delicateacknowledgement of his kindness in asking her, and in so many otherways. Yes, you've hit it exactly, Owen; she shall go as 'Westward. '"

"Go?" echoed Elmore, who had with difficulty realized the rapid changeof tense. "I thought you said you couldn't get her ready. "

"We must manage somehow, " replied Mrs. Elmore. And somehow a shoemakerfor the sandals, a seamstress for the delicate flowing draperies, ahair-dresser for the adjustment of the young girl's rebellious abundanceof hair beneath the star-lit fillet, were actually found, --with the helpof Hoskins, as usual, though he was not suffered to know anything of thecharacter to whose make-up he contributed. The perruquier, a personageof lordly address naturally, and of a dignity heightened by the demandin which he found himself came early in the morning, and was received byElmore with a self-possession that ill-comported with the solemnity ofthe occasion. "Sit down, " said Elmore easily, pushing him a chair. "Theladies will be here presently. "

"But I have no time to sit down, signore!" replied the artist, with animperious bow, "and the ladies must be here instantly. "

Mrs. Elmore always said that if she had not heard this conversation, andhurried in at once, the perruquier would have left them at that point. But she contrived to appease him by the manifestation of an intelligentsympathy; she made Lily leave her breakfast untasted, and submit herbeautiful head to the touch of this man, with whom it was but a head ofhair and nothing more; and in an hour the work was done. The artistwhisked away the cloth which covered her shoulders, and crying, "Behold!" bowed splendidly to the spectators, and without waiting forcriticism or suggestion, took his napoleon and went his way. All thatday the work of his skill was sacredly guarded, and the custodian of thetreasure went about with her head on her shoulders, as if it had beentemporarily placed in her keeping, and were something she was not at allused to taking care of. More than once Mrs. Elmore had to warn heragainst sinister accidents. "Remember, Lily, " she said, "that ifanything _did_ happen, NOTHING could be done to save you!" In spite ofhimself Elmore shared these anxieties, and in the depths of his wontedstudies he found himself pursued and harassed by vague apprehensions, which upon analysis proved to be fears for Miss Lily's hair. It was agreat moment when the robe came home--rather late--from thedressmaker's, and was put on over Lily's head; but from this thrillingrite Elmore was of course excluded, and only knew of it afterwards byhearsay. He did not see her till she came out just before Hoskinsarrived to fetch her away, when she appeared radiantly perfect in herdress, and in the air with which she meant to carry it off. At Mrs. Elmore's direction she paraded dazzlingly up and down the room a numberof times, bending over to see how her dress hung, as she walked. Mrs. Elmore, with her head on one side, scrutinized her in every detail, andElmore regarded her young beauty and delight with a pride as innocent asher own. A dim regret, evaporating in a long sigh, which made the otherslaugh, recalled him to himself, as the bell rang and Hoskins appeared. He was received in a preconcerted silence, and he looked from one to theother with his queer, knowing smile, and took in the whole affairwithout a word. 

"Isn't it a pretty idea?" said Mrs. Elmore. "Studied from an antiquebas-relief, or just the same as an antique, --full of the anguish and therepose of the Laocoön. "

"Mrs. Elmore, " said the sculptor, "you're too many for me. I reckon theprocession had better start before I make a fool of myself. Well!" Thiswas all Hoskins could say; but it sufficed. The ladies declaredafterwards that if he had added a word more, it would have spoiled it. They had expected him to go to the ball in the character of a minerperhaps, or in that of a trapper of the great plains; but he had chosento appear more naturally as a courtier of the time of Louis XIV. "Whenyou go in for a disguise, " he explained, "you can't make it toocomplete; and I consider that this limp of mine adds the last touch. "

"It's no use to sit up for them, " Mrs. Elmore said, when she and herhusband had come in from calling good wishes and last instructions afterthem from the balcony, as their gondola pushed away. "We sha'n't seeanything more of _them_ till morning. Now this, " she added, "issomething like the gayety that people at home are always fancying inEurope. Why, I can remember when I used to imagine that Americantourists figured brilliantly in _salons_ and _conversazioni_, and spenttheir time in masking and throwing _confetti_ in carnival, and going toballs and opera. I didn't know what American tourists were, then, andhow dismally they moped about in hotels and galleries and churches. AndI didn't know how stupid Europe was socially, --how perfectly dead andburied it was, especially for young people. It would be fun if thingshappened so that Lily never found it out! I don't think two offersalready, --or three, if you count Rose-Black, --are very bad for _any_girl; and now this ball, coming right on top of it, where she will seehundreds of handsome officers! Well, she'll never miss Patmos, at thisrate, will she?"

"Perhaps she had better never have left Patmos, " suggested Elmoregravely. 

"I don't know what you mean, Owen, " said his wife, as if hurt. 

"I mean that it's a great pity she should give herself up to the samefrivolous amusements here that she had there. The only good that Europecan do American girls who travel here is to keep them in total exilefrom what they call a good time, --from parties and attentions andflirtations; to force them, through the hard discipline of socialdeprivation, to take some interest in the things that make forcivilization, --in history, in art, in humanity. "

"Now, there I differ with you, Owen. I think American girls are thenicest girls in the world, just as they are. And I don't see any harm inthe things you think are so awful. You've lived so long here among yourmanuscripts that you've forgotten there is any such time as the present. If you are getting so Europeanized, I think the sooner we go home thebetter. "

"_I_ getting Europeanized!" began Elmore indignantly. 

"Yes, Europeanized! And I don't want you to be so severe with Lily, Owen. The child stands in terror of you now; and if you keep on in thisway, she can't draw a natural breath in the house. "

There is always something flattering, at first, to a gentle andpeaceable man in the notion of being terrible to any one; Elmore meltedat these words, and at the fear that he might have been, in some waythat he could not think of, really harsh. 

"I should be very sorry to distress her, " he began. 

"Well, you haven't distressed her yet, " his wife relented. "Only youmust be careful not to. She was going to be very circumspect, Owen, onyour account, for she really appreciates the interest you take in her, and I think she sees that it won't do to be at all free with strangersover here. This ball will be a great education for Lily, --a _great_education. I'm going to commence a letter to Sue about her costume, andall that, and leave it open to finish up when Lily gets home. "

When she went to bed, she did not sleep till after the time when thegirl ought to have come; and when she awoke to a late breakfast, Lilyhad still not returned. By eleven o'clock she and Elmore had passed thestage of accusing themselves, and then of accusing each other, forallowing Lily to go in the way they had; and had come to the question ofwhat they had better do, and whether it was practicable to send to theSpanish consulate and ask what had become of her. They had resignedthemselves to waiting for one half-hour longer, when they heard hervoice at the water-gate, gayly forbidding Hoskins to come up; andrunning out upon the balcony, Mrs. Elmore had a glimpse of thecourtier, very tawdry by daylight, re-entering his gondola, and had onlytime to turn about when Lily burst laughing into the room. 

"Oh, don't look at me, Professor Elmore!" she cried. "I'm literallydanced to rags!"

Her dress and hair were splashed with drippings from the wax candles;she was wildly decorated with favors from the German, and one of thesehad been used to pin up a rent which the spur of a hussar had made inher robe; her hair had escaped from its fastenings during the night, andin putting it back she had broken the star in her fillet; it was nowkept in place by a bit of black-and-yellow cord which an officer hadlent her. "He said he should claim it of me the first time we met, " sheexclaimed excitedly. "Why, Professor Elmore, " she implored with a laugh, "don't look at me _so_!"

Grief and indignation were in his heart. "You look like the spectre oflast night, " he said with dreamy severity, and as if he saw her merelyas a vision. 

"Why, that's the way I _feel_!" she answered; and with a reproachful"Owen!" his wife followed her flight to her room. 

XI. 

Elmore went out for a long walk, from which he returned disconsolate atdinner. He was one of those people, common enough in our Puritancivilization, who would rather forego any pleasure than incur thereaction which must follow with all the keenness of remorse; and healways mechanically pitied (for the operation was not a rational one)such unhappy persons as he saw enjoying themselves. But he had not meantto add bitterness to the anguish which Lily would necessarily feel inretrospect of the night's gayety; he had not known that he wasrecognizing, by those unsparing words of his, the nervous misgivings inthe girl's heart. He scarcely dared ask, as he sat down at table withMrs. Elmore alone, whether Lily were asleep. 

"Asleep?" she echoed, in a low tone of mystery. "I hope so. "

"Celia, Celia!" he cried in despair. "What shall I do? I feel terriblyat what I said to her. "

"Sh! At what you said to her? Oh yes! Yes, that was cruel. But there isso much else, poor child, that I had forgotten that. "

He let his plate of soup stand untasted. "Why--why, " he faltered, "didn't she enjoy herself?" And a historian of Venice, whose mind shouldhave been wholly engaged in philosophizing the republic's difficultpast, hung abjectly upon the question whether a young girl had or hadnot had a good time at a ball. 

"Yes. Oh, yes! She _enjoyed_ herself--if that's all you require, "replied his wife. "Of course she wouldn't have stayed so late if shehadn't enjoyed herself. "

"No, " he said in a tone which he tried to make leading; but his wiferefused to be led by indirect methods. She ate her soup, but in a mannerto carry increasing bitterness to Elmore with every spoonful. 

"Come, Celia!" he cried at last, "tell me what has happened. You knowhow wretched this makes me. Tell me it, whatever it is. Of course, Imust know it in the end. Are there any new complications?"

"No _new_ complications, " said his wife, as if resenting the word. "Butyou make such a bugbear of the least little matter that there's noencouragement to tell you anything. "

"Excuse me, " he retorted, "I haven't made a bugbear of this. "

"You haven't had the opportunity. " This was so grossly unjust thatElmore merely shrugged his shoulders and remained silent. When itfinally appeared that he was not going to ask anything more, his wifeadded: "If you could listen, like any one else, and not interrupt withremarks that distort all one's ideas"--Then, as he persisted in hissilence, she relented still further. "Why, of course, as you say, youwill have to know it in the end. But I can tell you, to begin with, Owen, that it's nothing you can do anything about, or take hold of inany way. Whatever it is, it's done and over; so it needn't distress youat all. "

"Ah, I've known some things done and over that distressed me a greatdeal, " he suggested. 

"The princess wasn't so very young, after all, " said Mrs. Elmore, as ifthis had been the point in dispute, "but very fat and jolly, and verykind. She wasn't in costume; but there was a young countess with her, helping receive, who appeared as Night, --black tulle, you know, withsilver stars. The princess seemed to take a great fancy to Lily, --theRussians always _have_ sympathized with us in the war, --and all the timeshe wasn't dancing, the princess kept her by her, holding her hand andpatting it. The officers--hundreds of them, in their white uniforms andthose magnificent hussar dresses--were very obsequious to the princess, and Lily had only too many partners. She says you can't imagine howsplendid the scene was, with all those different costumes, and the roomsa perfect blaze of waxlights; the windows were battened, so that youcouldn't tell when it came daylight, and she hadn't any idea how thetime was passing. They were not all in masks; and there didn't seem tobe any regular hour for unmasking. She can't tell just when the supperwas, but she thinks it must have been towards morning. She says Mr. Hoskins got on capitally, and everybody seemed to like him, he was sojolly and good-natured; and when they found out that he had been woundedin the war, they made quite a belle of him, as he called it. Theprincess made a point of introducing all the officers to Lily that cameup after they unmasked. They paid her the greatest attention, and youcan easily see that she was the prettiest girl there. "

"I can believe that without seeing, " said Elmore, with magnanimous pridein the loveliness that had made him so much trouble. "Well?"

"Well, they couldn't any of them get the hang, as Mr. Hoskins said, ofthe character she came in, for a good while; but when they did, theythought it was the best idea there: and it was all _your_ idea, Owen, "said Mrs. Elmore, in accents of such tender pride that he knew she mustnow be approaching the difficult passage of her narration. "It was soperfectly new and unconventional. She got on very well speaking Italianwith the officers, for she knew as much of it as they did. "

Here Mrs. Elmore paused, and glanced hesitatingly at her husband. "Theyonly made one little mistake; but that was at the beginning, and theysoon got over it. " Elmore suffered, but he did not ask what it was, andhis wife went on with smooth caution. "Lily thought it was just as it isat home, and she mustn't dance with any one unless they had beenintroduced. So after the first dance with the Spanish consul, as herescort, a young officer came up and asked her; and she refused, for shethought it was a great piece of presumption. Afterwards the princesstold her she could dance with any one, introduced or not, and so shedid; and pretty soon she saw this first officer looking at her veryangrily, and going about speaking to others and glancing toward her. Shefelt badly about it, when she saw how it was; and she got Mr. Hoskins togo and speak to him. Mr. Hoskins asked him if he spoke English, and theofficer said No; and it seems that he didn't know Italian either, andMr. Hoskins tried him in Spanish, --he picked up a little in NewMexico, --but the officer didn't understand it; and all at once itoccurred to Mr. Hoskins to say, 'Parlez-vous Français?' and says theofficer instantly, 'Oui, monsieur. '"

"Of course the man knew French. He ought to have tried him with that inthe beginning. What did Hoskins say then?" asked Elmore impatiently. 

"He didn't say anything: that was all the French he knew. "

Elmore broke into a cry of laughter, and laughed on and on with the wildexcess of a sad man when once he unpacks his heart in that way. His wifedid not, perhaps, feel the absurdity as keenly as he, but she gladlylaughed with him, for it smoothed her way to have him in this humor. "Mr. Hoskins just took him by the arm, and said, 'Here! you come alongwith me, ' and led him up to the princess, where Lily was sitting; andwhen the princess had explained to him, Lily rose, and mustered upenough French to say, 'Je vous prie, monsieur, de danser avec moi, ' andafter that they were the greatest friends. "

"That was very pretty in her; it was sovereignly gracious, " said Elmore. 

"Oh, if an American girl is left to manage for herself she can _always_manage!" cried Mrs. Elmore. 

"Well, and what else?" asked her husband. 

"Oh, _I_ don't know that it amounts to anything, " said Mrs. Elmore; butshe did not delay further. 

It appeared from what she went on to say that in the German, which begannot long after midnight, there was a figure fancifully called thesymphony, in which musical toys were distributed among the dancers inpairs; the possessor of a small pandean pipe, or tin horn, went aboutsounding it, till he found some lady similarly equipped, when hedemanded her in the dance. In this way a tall mask, to whom a pennytrumpet had fallen, was stalking to and fro among the waltzers, blowingthe silly plaything with a disgusted air, when Lily, all unconscious ofhim, where she sat with her hand in that of her faithful princess, breathed a responsive note. The mask was instantly at her side, and shewas whirling away in the waltz. She tried to make him out, but she hadalready danced with so many people that she was unable to decide whethershe had seen this mask before. He was not disguised except by the littlevisor of black silk, coming down to the point of his nose; his blondwhiskers escaped at either side, and his blond moustache swept beneath, like the whiskers and moustaches of fifty other officers present, and hedid not speak. This was a permissible caprice of his, but if she wereresolved to make him speak, this also was a permissible caprice. Shemade a whole turn of the room in studying up the Italian sentence withwhich she assailed him: "Perdoni, Maschera; ma cosa ha detto? Non ho beninteso. "

"Speak English, Mask, " came the reply. "I did not say anything. " It camecertainly with a German accent, and with a foreigner's deliberation; butit came at once, and clearly. 

The English astonished her, and somehow it daunted her, for the maskspoke very gravely; but she would not let him imagine that he had puther down, and she rejoined laughingly, "Oh, I knew that you hadn'tspoken, but I thought I would make you. "

"You think you can make one do what you will?" asked the mask. 

"Oh, no. I don't think I could make you tell me who you are, though Ishould like to make you. "

"And why should you wish to know me? If you met me in Piazza, you wouldnot recognize my salutation. "

"How do you know that?" demanded Lily. "I don't know what you mean. "

"Oh, it is understood yet already, " answered the mask. "Your compatriot, with whom you live, wishes to be well seen by the Italians, and he wouldnot let you bow to an Austrian. "

"That is not so, " exclaimed Lily indignantly. 

"Professor Elmore wouldn't be so mean; and if he would, _I_ shouldn't. "She was frightened, but she felt her spirit rising, too. "You seem toknow so well who I am: do you think it is fair for you to keep me inignorance?"

"I cannot remain masked without your leave. Shall I unmask? Do youinsist?"

"Oh, no, " she replied. "You will have to unmask at supper, and then Ishall see you. I'm not impatient. I prefer to keep you for a mystery. "

"You will be a mystery to me even when you unmask, " replied the maskgravely. 

Lily was ill at ease, and she gave a little, unsuccessful laugh. "Youseem to take the mystery very coolly, " she said in default of anythingelse. 

"I have studied the American manner, " replied the mask. "In America theytake everything coolly: life and death, love and hate--all things. "

"How do you know that? You have never been in America. "

"That is not necessary, if the Americans come here to show us. "

"They are not true Americans, if they show you that, " cried the girl. 

"No?"

"But I see that you are only amusing yourself. "

"And have you never amused yourself with me?"

"How could I, " she demanded, "if I never saw you before?"

"But are you sure of that?" She did not answer, for in this masqueradebanter she had somehow been growing unhappy. "Shall I prove to you thatyou have seen me before? You dare not let me unmask. "

"Oh, I can wait till supper. I shall know then that I have never seenyou before. I forbid you to unmask till supper! Will you obey?" shecried anxiously. 

"I have obeyed in harder things, " replied the mask. 

She refused to recognize anything but meaningless badinage in his words. "Oh, as a soldier, yes!--you must be used to obeying orders. " He did notreply, and she added, releasing her hand and slipping it into his arm, "I am tired now; will you take me back to the princess?"

He led her silently to her place, and left her with a profound bow. 

"Now, " said the princess, "they shall give you a little time to breathe. I will not let them make you dance every minute. They are indiscreet. You shall not take any of their musical instruments, and so you canfairly escape till supper. "

"Thank you, " said Lily absently, "that will be the best way"; and shesat languidly watching the dancers. A young naval officer who spokeEnglish ran across the floor to her. 

"Come, " he cried, "I shall have twenty duels on my hands if I let yourest here, when there are so many who wish to dance with you. " He threwa pipe into her lap, and at the same moment a pipe sounded from theother side of the room. 

"This is a conspiracy!" exclaimed the girl. "I will not have it! I amnot going to dance any more. " She put the pipe back into his hands; heplaced it to his lips, and sounded it several times, and then dropped itinto her lap again with a laugh, and vanished in the crowd. 

"That little fellow is a rogue, " said the princess. "But he is not sobad as some of them. Monsieur, " she cried in French to thefair-whiskered, tall mask who had already presented himself before Lily, "I will not permit it, if it is for a trick. You must unmask. I willdispense mademoiselle from dancing with you. "

The mask did not reply, but turned his eyes upon Lily with an appealwhich the holes of the visor seemed to intensify. "It is a promise, " shesaid to the princess, rising in a sort of fascination. "I have forbiddenhim to unmask before supper. "

"Oh, very well, " answered the princess, "if that is the case. But makehim bring you back soon: it is almost time. "

"Did you hear, Mask?" asked the girl, as they waltzed away. "I will onlymake two turns of the room with you. "

"Perdoni?"

"This is too bad!" she exclaimed. "I will not be trifled with in thisway. Either speak English, or unmask at once. "

The mask again answered in Italian, with a repeated apology for notunderstanding. "You understand very well, " retorted Lily, now reallyindignant, "and you know that this passes a jest. "

"Can you speak German?" asked the mask in that tongue. 

"Yes, a little, but I do not choose to speak it. If you have anything tosay to me you can say it in English. "

"I cannot understand English, " replied the mask, still in German, andnow Lily thought the voice seemed changed; but she clung to her beliefthat it was some hoax played at her expense, and she continued herefforts to make him answer her in English. The two turns round the roomhad stretched to half a dozen in this futile task, but she felt herselfpowerless to leave the mask, who for his part betrayed signs ofembarrassment, as if he had undertaken a ruse of which he repented. Aconfused movement in the crowd and a sudden cessation of the musicrecalled her to herself, and she now took her partner's arm and hurriedwith him toward the place where she had left the princess. But theprincess had already gone into the supper-room, and she had no otherrecourse than to follow with the stranger. 

As they entered the supper-room she removed her little visor, and shefelt, rather than saw, the mask put up his hand and lift away his own:he turned his head, and looked down upon her with the face of a man shehad never seen before. 

"Ah, you are there!" she heard the princess's voice calling to her fromone of the tables. "How tired you look! Here--here! I will make youdrink this glass of wine. "

The officer who brought her the wine gave her his arm and led her to theprincess, and the late mask mixed with the two-score other tall blondofficers. 

The night which stretched so far into the day ended at last, and shefollowed Hoskins down to their gondola. He entered the boat first, togive her his hand in stepping from the _riva_; at the same moment sheinvoluntarily turned at the closing of the door behind her, and foundat her side the tall blond mask, or one of the masks, if there were twowho had danced with her. He caught her hand suddenly to his lips, andkissed it. 

"Adieu--forgive!" he murmured in English, and then vanished indoorsagain. 

"Owen, " said Mrs. Elmore dramatically at the end of her narration, "whodo you think it could have been?"

"I have no doubt as to who it was, Celia, " replied Elmore, with a heatevidently quite unexpected to his wife, "and if Lily has not beenseriously annoyed by the matter, I am glad that it has happened. I havehad my regrets--my doubts--whether I did not dismiss that man'spretensions too curtly, too unkindly. But I am convinced now that we didexactly right, and that she was wise never to bestow another thoughtupon him. A man capable of contriving a petty persecution of thissort--of pursuing a young girl who had rejected him in this shamelessfashion, --is no gentleman. "

"It _was_ a persecution, " said Mrs. Elmore, with a dazed air, as if thisview of the case had not occurred to her. 

"A miserable, unworthy persecution!" repeated her husband. 

"Yes. "

"And we are well rid of him. He has relieved _me_ by this lastperformance, immensely; and I trust that if Lily had any secretlingering regrets, he has given her a final lesson. Though I must say, in justice to her, poor girl, she didn't seem to need it. "

Mrs. Elmore listened with a strange abeyance; she looked beaten andbewildered, while he vehemently uttered these words. She could not meethis eyes, with her consciousness of having her intended romance thrownback upon her hands; and he seemed in nowise eager to meet hers, forwhatever consciousness of his own. "Well, it isn't certain that he wasthe one, after all, " she said. 

XII. 

Long after the ball Lily seemed to Elmore's eye not to have recoveredher former tone. He thought she went about languidly, and that she wasfitful and dreamy, breaking from moods of unwonted abstraction in burstsof gayety as unnatural. She did not talk much of the ball; he could notbe sure that she ever recurred to it of her own motion. Hoskinscontinued to come a great deal to the house, and she often talked withhim for a whole evening; Elmore fancied she was very serious in thesetalks. 

He wondered if Lily avoided him, or whether this was only an illusion ofhis; but in any case, he was glad that the girl seemed to find so muchcomfort in Hoskins's company, and when it occurred to him he always saidsomething to encourage his visits. His wife was singularly quiescent atthis time, as if, having accomplished all she wished in Lily's presenceat the princess's ball, she was willing to rest for a while from furthersocial endeavor. Life was falling into the dull routine again, andafter the past shocks his nerves were gratefully clothing themselves inthe old habits of tranquillity once more, when one day a letter camefrom the overseers of Patmos University, offering him the presidency ofthat institution on condition of his early return. The board had in viewcertain changes, intended to bring the university abreast with thetimes, which they hoped would meet his approval. 

Among these was a modification of the name, which was hereafter to bePatmos University and Military Institute. The board not only believedthat popular feeling demanded the introduction of military drill intothe college, but they felt that a college which had been closed at thebeginning of the Rebellion, through the dedication of its president andnearly all its students to the war, could in no way so gracefullyrecognize this proud fact of its history as by hereafter making war oneof the arts which it taught. The board explained that of course Mr. Elmore would not be expected to take charge of this branch ofinstruction at once. A competent military assistant would be provided, and continued under him as long as he should deem his servicesessential. The letter closed with a cordial expression of the desire ofElmore's old friends to have him once more in their midst, at the closeof labors which they were sure would do credit to the good olduniversity and to the whole city of Patmos. 

Elmore read this letter at breakfast, and silently handed it to hiswife: they were alone, for Lily, as now often happened, had not yetrisen. "Well?" he said, when she had read it in her turn. She gave itback to him with a look in her dimmed eyes which he could not mistake. "I see there is no doubt of your feeling, Celia, " he added. 

"I don't wish to urge you, " she replied, "but yes, I should like to goback. Yes, I am homesick. I have been afraid of it before, but thischance of returning makes it certain. "

"And you see nothing ridiculous in my taking the presidency of amilitary institute?"

"They say expressly that they don't expect you to give instruction inthat branch. "

"No, not immediately, it seems, " he said, with his pensive irony. "Andthe history?"

"Haven't you almost got notes enough?"

Elmore laughed sadly. "I have been here two years. It would take metwenty years to write such a history of Venice as I ought not to beashamed to write; it would take me five years to scamp it as I thoughtof doing. Oh, I dare say I had better go back. I have neither the timenor the money to give to a work I never was fit for, --of whosemagnitude even I was unable to conceive. "

"Don't say that!" cried his wife, with the old sympathy. "You will writeit yet, I know you will. I would rather spend all my days inthis--watery mausoleum than have you talk so, Owen!"

"Thank you, my dear; but the work won't be lost even if I give it up atthis point. I can do something with my material, I suppose. And you knowthat if I didn't _wish_ to give up my project I couldn't. It's a sign ofmy unfitness for it that I'm able to abandon it. The man who is born towrite the history of Venice will have no volition in the matter: hecannot leave it, and he will not die till he has finished it. " He feeblycrushed a bit of bread in his fingers as he ended with this burst offeeling, and he shook his head in sad negation to his wife's tenderprotest, --"Oh, you will come back some day to finish it!"

"No one ever comes back to finish a history of Venice, " he said. 

"Oh, yes, you will, " she returned. "But you need the rest from this kindof work, now, just as you needed rest from your college work before. Youneed a change of standpoint, --and the American standpoint will be thevery thing for you. "

"Perhaps so, perhaps so, " he admitted. "At any rate, this is a handsomeoffer, and most kindly made, Celia. It's a great compliment. I didn'tsuppose they valued me so much. "

"Of course they valued you, and they will be very glad to get you. Icall it merely letting the historic material ripen in your mind, or elseI shouldn't let you accept. And I shall be glad to go home, Owen, onLily's account. The child is getting no good here: she's drooping. "

"Drooping?"

"Yes. Don't you see how she mopes about?"

"I'm afraid--that--I have--noticed. "

He was going to ask why she was drooping; but he could not. He said, recurring to the letter of the overseers, "So Patmos is a city. "

"Of course it is by this time, " said his wife, "with all thatprosperity!"

Now that they were determined to go, their little preparations forreturn were soon made; and a week after Elmore had written to accept theoffer of the overseers, they were ready to follow his letter home. Theirdecision was a blow to Hoskins under which he visibly suffered; and theydid not realize till then in what fond and affectionate friendship heheld them. He now frankly spent his whole time with them; hedisconsolately helped them pack, and he did all that a consul can do tosecure free entry for some objects of Venice that they wished to get inwithout payment of duties at New York. 

He said a dozen times, "I don't know what I _will_ do when you're gone";and toward the last he alarmed them for his own interests by beginningto say, "Well, I don't see but what I will have to go along. "

The last night but one Lily felt it her duty to talk to him veryseriously about his future and what he owed to it. She told him that hemust stay in Italy till he could bring home something that would honorthe great, precious, suffering country for which he had fought so nobly, and which they all loved. She made the tears come into her eyes as shespoke, and when she said that she should always be proud to beassociated with one of his works, Hoskins's voice was quite husky inreplying: "Is that the way you feel about it?" He went away promising toremain at least till he finished his bas-relief of Westward, and hisfigure of the Pacific Slope; and the next morning he sent around by a_facchino_ a note to Lily. 

She ran it through in the presence of the Elmores, before whom shereceived it, and then, with a cry of "I think Mr. Hoskins is too _bad_!"she threw it into Mrs. Elmore's lap, and, catching her handkerchief toher eyes, she broke into tears and went out of the room. The noteread:--

 DEAR MISS LILY, --Your kind interest in me gives me courage to say something that will very likely make me hateful to you forevermore. But I have got to say it, and you have got to know it; and it's all the worse for me if you have never suspected it. I want to give my whole life to you, wherever and however you will have it. With you by my side, I feel as if I could really do something that you would not be ashamed of in sculpture, and I believe that I could make you happy. I suppose I believe this because I love you very dearly, and I know the chances are that you will not think this is reason enough. But I would take one chance in a million, and be only too glad of it. I hope it will not worry you to read this: as I said before, I had to tell you. Perhaps it won't be altogether a surprise. I might go on, but I suppose that until I hear from you I had better give you as little of my eloquence as possible. 

 CLAY HOSKINS. 

"Well, upon my word, " said Elmore, to whom his wife had transferred theletter, "this is very indelicate of Hoskins! I must say, I expectedsomething better of him. " He looked at the note with a face of disgust. 

"I don't know why you had a right to expect anything better of him, asyou call it, " retorted his wife. "It's perfectly natural. "

"Natural!" cried Elmore. "To put this upon us at the last moment, whenhe knows how much trouble I've----"

Lily re-entered the room as precipitately as she had left it, and savedhim from betraying himself as to the extent of his confidences toHoskins. "Professor Elmore, " she said, bending her reddened eyes uponhim, "I want you to answer this letter for me; and I don't want you towrite as you--I mean, don't make it so cutting--so--so--Why, I _like_Mr. Hoskins! He's been so _kind_! And if you said anything to wound hisfeelings--"

"I shall not do that, you may be sure; because, for one reason, I shallsay nothing at all to him, " replied Elmore. 

"You won't write to him?" she gasped. 

"No. "

"Why, what shall I do-o-o-o?" demanded Lily, prolonging the syllable ina burst of grief and astonishment. 

"I don't know, " answered Elmore. 

"Owen, " cried his wife, interfering for the first time, in response tothe look of appeal that Lily turned upon her, "you _must_ write!"

"Celia, " he retorted boldly, "I _won't_ write. I have a genuine regardfor Hoskins; I respect him, and I am very grateful to him for all hiskindness to you. He has been like a brother to you both. "

"Why, of course, " interrupted Lily, "I never thought of him as anything_but_ a brother. "

"And though I must say I think it would have been more thoughtfuland--and--more considerate in him not to do this--"

"We did everything we could to fight him off from it, " interrupted Mrs. Elmore, "both of us. We saw that it was coming, and we tried to stop it. But nothing would help. Perhaps, as he says, he _did_ have to do it. "

"I didn't dream of his--having any such--idea, " said Elmore. "I felt soperfectly safe in his coming; I trusted everything to him. "

"I suppose you thought his wanting to come was all unconsciouscerebration, " said his wife disdainfully. "Well, now you see it wasn't. "

"Yes; but it's too late now to help it; and though I think he ought tohave spared us this, if he thought there was no hope for him, still Ican't bring myself to inflict pain upon him, and the long and the shortof it is, I _won't_. "

"But how is he to be answered?"

"I don't know. _You_ can answer him. "

"I could never do it in the world!"

"I own it's difficult, " said Elmore coldly. 

"Oh, _I_ will answer him--I will answer him, " cried Lily, "rather thanhave any trouble about it. Here, --here, " she said, reaching blindly forpen and paper, as she seated herself at Elmore's desk, "give me the ink, quick. Oh, dear! What shall I say? What date is it?--the 25th? And itdoesn't matter about the day of the week. 'Dear Mr. Hoskins--Dear Mr. Hoskins--Dear Mr. Hosk'--Ought you to put Clay Hoskins, Esq. , at the topor the bottom--or not at all, when you've said Dear Mr. Hoskins?Esquire seems so cold, anyway, and I _won't_ put it! 'Dear Mr. Hoskins'--Professor Elmore!" she implored reproachfully, "tell me whatto say!"

"That would be equivalent to writing the letter, " he began. 

"Well, write it, then, " she said, throwing down the pen. "I don't _ask_you to dictate it. Write it, --write anything, --just in pencil, you know;that won't commit you to anything; they say a thing in pencil isn'tlegal, --and I'll copy it out in the first person. "

"Owen, " said his wife, "you shall not refuse! It's inhuman, it'sinhospitable, when Lily wants you to, so! Why, I never heard of such athing!"

Elmore desperately caught up the sheet of paper on which Lily hadwritten "Dear Mr. Hoskins, " and groaning out "Well, well!" he added, --

 I have your letter. Come to the station to-morrow and say good-by to her whom you will yet live to thank for remaining only

 Your friend, ELIZABETH MAYHEW. 

"There! there, that will do beautifully--beautifully! Oh, thank you, Professor Elmore, ever and ever so much! That will save his feelings, and do everything, " said Lily, sitting down again to copy it; while Mrs. Elmore, looking over her shoulder, mingled her hysterical excitementwith the girl's, and helped her out by sealing the note when it wasfinished and directed. 

It accomplished at least one purpose intended. It kept Hoskins away tillthe final moment, and it brought him to the station for their adieuxjust before their train started. A consciousness of the absurdity of hispart gave his face a humorously rueful cast. But he came pluckily to themark. He marched straight up to the girl. "It's all right, Miss Lily, "he said, and offered her his hand, which she had a strong impulse to cryover. Then he turned to Mrs. Elmore, and while he held her hand in hisright, he placed his left affectionately on Elmore's shoulder, and, looking at Lily, he said, "You ought to get Miss Lily to help you outwith your history, Professor; she has a very good style, --quite aliterary style, I should have said, if I hadn't known it was hers. Idon't like her subjects, though. " They broke into a forlorn laughtogether; he wrung their hands once more, without a word, and, withoutlooking back, limped out of the waiting-room and out of their lives. 

They did not know that this was really the last of Hoskins, --one neverknows that any parting is the last, --and in their inability to conceiveof a serious passion in him, they quickly consoled themselves for whathe might suffer. They knew how kindly, how tenderly even, they felttowards him, and by that juggle with the emotions which we all practiseat times, they found comfort for him in the fact. Another interest, another figure, began to occupy the morbid fancy of Elmore, and as theyapproached Peschiera his expectation became intense. There was no reasonwhy it should exist; it would be by the thousandth chance, even ifEhrhardt were still there, that they should meet him at the railroadstation, and there were a thousand chances that he was no longer inPeschiera. He could see that his wife and Lily were restive too: as thetrain drew into the station they nodded to each other, and pointed outof the window, as if to identify the spot where Lily had first noticedhim; they laughed nervously, and it seemed to Elmore that he could notendure their laughter. 

During that long wait which the train used to make in the old Austriantimes at Peschiera, while the police authorities _viséd_ the passportsof those about to cross the frontier, Elmore continued perpetuallyalert. He was aware that he should not know Ehrhardt if he met him; buthe should know that he was present from the looks of Lily and Mrs. Elmore, and he watched them. They dined well in waiting, while heimpatiently trifled with the food, and ate next to nothing; and theycalmly returned to their places in the train, to which he remountedafter a last despairing glance around the platform in a passion ofdisappointment. The old longing not to be left so wholly to the effectof what he had done possessed him to the exclusion of all othersensations, and as the train moved away from the station he fell backagainst the cushions of the carriage, sick that he should never evenhave looked on the face of the man in whose destiny he had played sofatal a part. 

XIII. 

In America, life soon settled into form about the daily duties ofElmore's place, and the daily pleasures and cares which his wife assumedas a leader in Patmos society. Their sojourn abroad conferred itsdistinction; the day came when they regarded it as a brilliant episode, and it was only by fitful glimpses that they recognized its essentialdulness. After they had been home a year or two, Elmore published hisStory of Venice in the Lives of her Heroes, which fell into a readyoblivion; he paid all the expenses of the book, and was puzzled that, inspite of this, the final settlement should still bring him in debt tohis publishers. He did not understand, but he submitted; and he acceptedthe failure of his book very meekly. If he could have chosen, he wouldhave preferred that the Saturday Review, which alone noticed it inLondon with three lines of exquisite slight, should have passed it insilence. But after all, he felt that the book deserved no better fate. He always spoke of it as unphilosophized and incomplete, without anyjust claim to being. 

Lily had returned to her sister's household, but though she came home inthe heyday of her young beauty, she failed somehow to take up the storyof her life just where she had left it in Patmos. On the way home shehad refused an offer in London, and shortly after her arrival in Americashe received a letter from a young gentleman whom she had casually seenin Geneva, and who had found exile insupportable since parting with her, and was ready to return to his native land at her bidding; but she saidnothing of these proposals till long afterwards to Professor Elmore, who, she said, had suffered enough from her offers. She went to all theparties and picnics, and had abundant opportunities of flirtation andmarriage; but she neither flirted nor married. She seemed to havegreatly sobered; and the sound sense which she had always shown becamemore and more qualified with a thoughtful sweetness. At first, therelation between her and the Elmores lost something of its intimacy; butwhen, after several years, her health gave way, a familiarity, evenkinder than before, grew up. She used to like to come to them, and talkand laugh fondly over their old Venetian days. But often she satpensive and absent, in the midst of these memories, and looked at Elmorewith a regard which he found hard to bear: a gentle, unconscious wonderit seemed, in which he imagined a shade of tender reproach. 

When she recovered her health, after a journey to the West one winter, they saw that, by some subtile and indefinable difference, she was nolonger a young girl. Perhaps it was because they had not met her forhalf a year. But perhaps it was age, --she was now thirty. However itwas, Elmore recognized with a pang that the first youth at least hadgone out of her voice and eyes. She only returned to arrange for a longsojourn in the West. She liked the climate and the people, she said; andshe seemed well and happy. She had planned starting a Kindergartenschool in Omaha with another young lady; she said that she wantedsomething to do. "She will end by marrying one of those Westernwidowers, " said Mrs. Elmore. 

"I wonder she didn't take poor old Hoskins, " mused Elmore aloud. 

"No, you don't, dear, " said his wife, who had not grown less direct indealing with him. "You know it would have been ridiculous; besides, shenever cared anything for him, --she couldn't. You might as well wonderwhy she didn't take Captain Ehrhardt after you dismissed him. "

"_I_ dismissed him?"

"You wrote to him, didn't you?"

"Celia, " cried Elmore, "this I _cannot_ bear. Did I take a single stepin that business without her request and your full approval? Didn't youboth ask me to write?"

"Yes, I suppose we did. "

"Suppose?"

"Well, we _did_, --if you want me to say it. And I'm not accusing you ofanything. I know you acted for the best. But you can see yourself, can'tyou, that it was rather sudden to have it end so quickly--"

She did not finish her sentence, or he did not hear the close in themiserable absence into which he lapsed. "Celia, " he asked at last, "doyou think she--she had any feeling about him?"

"Oh, " cried his wife restively, "how should _I_ know?"

"I didn't suppose you _knew_, " he pleaded. "I asked if you thought so. "

"What would be the use of thinking anything about it? The matter can'tbe helped now. If you inferred from anything she said to you--"

"She told me repeatedly, in answer to questions as explicit as I couldmake them, that she wished him dismissed. "

"Well, then, very likely she did. "

"Very likely, Celia?"

"Yes. At any rate, it's too late now. "

"Yes, it's too late now. " He was silent again, and he began to walk thefloor, after his old habit, without speaking. He was always mute when hewas in pain, and he startled her with the anguish in which he now brokeforth. "I give it up! I give it up! Celia, Celia, I'm afraid I didwrong! Yes, I'm afraid that I spoiled two lives. I ventured to lay mysacrilegious hands upon two hearts that a divine force was drawingtogether, and put them asunder. It was a lamentable blunder, --it was acrime!"

"Why, Owen, how strangely you talk! How could you have done anydifferently under the circumstances?"

"Oh, I could have done very differently. I might have seen him, andtalked with him brotherly, face to face. He was a fearless and generoussoul! And I was meanly scared for my wretched little decorums, for myresponsibility to her friends, and I gave him no chance. "

"We wouldn't let you give him any, " interrupted his wife. 

"Don't try to deceive yourself, don't try to deceive _me_, Celia! I knowwell enough that you would have been glad to have me show mercy; and Iwould not even show him the poor grace of passing his offer in silence, if I must refuse it. I couldn't spare him even so much as that!"

"We decided--we both decided--that it would be better to cut off allhope at once, " urged his wife. 

"Ah, it was I who decided that--decided everything. Leave me to dealhonestly with myself at last, Celia! I have tried long enough to believethat it was not I who did it!" The pent-up doubt of years, thelong-silenced self-accusal, burst forth in his words. "Oh, I havesuffered for it! I thought he must come back, somehow, as long as westayed in Venice. When we left Peschiera without a glimpse of him--Iwonder I outlived it. But even if I had seen him there, what use wouldit have been? Would I have tried to repair the wrong done? What did I dobut impute unmanly and impudent motives to him when he seized his chanceto see her once more at that masquerade--"

"No, no, Owen! He was not the one. Lily was satisfied of that long ago. It was nothing but a chance, a coincidence. Perhaps it was some one hehad told about the affair--"

"No matter! no matter! If I thought it was he, my blame is the same. Andshe, poor girl, --in my lying compassion for him, I used to accuse her ofcold-heartedness, of indifference! I wonder she did not abhor the sightof me. How has she ever tolerated the presence, the friendship, of a manwho did her this irreparable wrong? Yes, it has spoiled her life, and itwas my work. No, no, Celia! you and she had nothing to do with it, except as I forced your consent--it was my work; and, however I havetried openly and secretly to shirk it, I must bear this fearfulresponsibility. "

He dropped into a chair, and hid his face in his hands, while his wifesoothed him with loving excuses for what he had done, with tenderprotests against the exaggerations of his remorse. She said that he haddone the only thing he could do; that Lily wished it, and that she neverhad blamed him. "Why, I don't believe she would ever have marriedCaptain Ehrhardt, anyhow. She was full of that silly fancy of hers aboutDick Burton, all the time, --you know how she used always to be talkingabout him; and when she came home and found she had outgrown him, shehad to refuse him, and I suppose it's that that's made her rathermelancholy. " She explained that Major Burton had become extremely fat, that his moustache was too big and black, and his laugh too loud; therewas nothing left of him, in fact, but his empty sleeve, and Lily was tooconscientious to marry him merely for that. 

In fact, Elmore's regret did reflect a monstrous and distorted image ofhis conduct. He had really acted the part of a prudent and conscientiousman; he was perfectly justifiable at every step: but in the retrospectthose steps which we can perfectly justify sometimes seem to have costso terribly that we look back even upon our sinful stumblings withbetter heart. Heaven knows how such things will be at the last day; butat that moment there was no wrong, no folly of his youth, of whichElmore did not think with more comfort than of this passage in which hehad been so wise and right. 

Of course the time came when he saw it all differently again; when hiswife persuaded him that he had done the best that any one could do withthe responsibilities that ought never to have been laid on a man of histemperament and habits; when he even came to see that Lily's feeling wasa matter of pure conjecture with him, and that so far as he knew she hadnever cared anything for Ehrhardt. Yet he was glad to have her away; hedid not like to talk of her with his wife; he did not think of her if hecould help it. 

They heard from time to time through her sister that her littleenterprise in Omaha was prospering, and that she was very contented outWest; at last they heard directly from her that she was going to bemarried. Till then, Elmore had been dumbly tormented in his sombre moodswith the solution of a problem at which his imagination vainlytoiled, --the problem of how some day she and Ehrhardt should meet againand retrieve the error of the past for him. He contrived this encounterin a thousand different ways by a thousand different chances; what he sopassionately and sorrowfully longed for accomplished itself continuallyin his dreams, but only in his dreams. 

In due course Lily married, and from all they could understand, veryhappily. Her husband was a clergyman, and she took particular interestin his parochial work, which her good heart and clear head especiallyqualified her to share with him. To connect her fate any longer withthat of Ehrhardt was now not only absurd, it was improper; yet Elmoresometimes found his fancy forgetfully at work as before. He could not atonce realize that the tragedy of this romance, such as it was, remainedto him alone, except perhaps as Ehrhardt shared it. With him, indeed, Elmore still sought to fret his remorse and keep it poignant, and hisfinal failure to do so made him ashamed. But what lasting sorrow can onehave from the disappointment of a man whom one has never seen? If Lilycould console herself, it seemed probable that Ehrhardt too had "gotalong. "

AT THE SIGN OF THE SAVAGE. 

As they bowled along in the deliberate German express train through theBlack Forest, Colonel Kenton said he had only two things against theregion: it was not black, and it was not a forest. He had all his lifeheard of the Black Forest, and he hoped he knew what it was. Theinhabitants burned charcoal, high up the mountains, and carved toys inthe winter when shut in by the heavy snows; they had Easter eggs all theyear round, with overshot mill-wheels in the valleys, and cherry-treesall about, always full of blossoms or ripe fruit, just as you liked tothink. They were very poor people, but very devout, and lived in littlevillages on a friendly intimacy with their cattle. The young women ofthese hamlets had each a long braid of yellow hair down her back, blueeyes, and a white bodice with a cat's-cradle lacing behind; the men hadbell-crowned hats and spindle-legs: they buttoned the breath out oftheir bodies with round pewter buttons on tight, short crimsonwaistcoats. 

"Now, here, " said the colonel, breathing on the window of the car andrubbing a little space clear of the frost, "I see nothing of the sort. Either I have been imposed upon by what I have heard of the BlackForest, or this is not the Black Forest. I'm inclined to believe thatthere is no Black Forest, and never was. There isn't, " he added, lookingagain, so as not to speak hastily, "a charcoal-burner, or an Easter egg, or a cherry blossom, or a yellow braid, or a red waistcoat, to enliventhe whole desolate landscape. What are we to think of it, Bessie?"

Mrs. Kenton, who sat opposite, huddled in speechless comfort under herwraps and rugs, and was just trying to decide in her own mind whether itwas more delicious to let her feet, now that they were thoroughly warm, rest upon the carpet-covered cylinder of hot water, or hover just ahair's breadth above it without touching it, answered a littleimpatiently that she did not know. In ordinary circumstances she wouldnot have been so short with the colonel's nonsense. She thought that wasthe way all men talked when they got well acquainted with you; and, ascoming from a sex incapable of seriousness, she could have excused it ifit had not interrupted her in her solution of so nice a problem. Colonel Kenton, however, did not mind. He at once possessed himself ofmuch more than his share of the cylinder, extorting a cry of indignationfrom his wife, who now saw herself reduced from a fastidious choice ofluxuries to a mere vulgar strife for the necessaries of life, --a thingany woman abhors. 

"Well, well, " said the colonel, "keep your old hot-water bottle. Ifthere was any other way of warming my feet, I wouldn't touch it. Itmakes me sick to use it; I feel as if the doctor was going to order mesome boneset tea. Give _me_ a good red-hot patent car-heater, thatsmells enough of burning iron to make your head ache in a minute, andsets your car on fire as soon as it rolls over the embankment. That'swhat _I_ call comfort. A hot-water bottle shoved under your feet--Ishould suppose I _was_ a woman, and a feeble one at that. I'll tell youwhat _I_ think about this Black Forest business, Bessie: I think it'spart of a system of deception that runs through the whole Germancharacter. I have heard the Germans praised for their sincerity andhonesty, but I tell you they have got to work hard to convince me of it, from this out. I am on my guard. I am not going to be taken in anymore. "

It became the colonel's pleasure to develop and exemplify this idea atall points of their progress through Germany. They were going to Italy, and as Mrs. Kenton had had enough of the sea in coming to Europe, theywere going to Italy by the only all-rail route then existing, --fromParis to Vienna, and so down through the Simmering to Trieste andVenice. Wherever they stopped, whatever they did before reaching Vienna, Colonel Kenton chose to preserve his guarded attitude. "Ah, they pretendthis is Stuttgart, do they?" he said on arriving at the Suabian capital. "A likely story! They pretended that was the Black Forest, you know, Bessie. " At Munich, "And this is Munich!" he sneered, whenever theconversation flagged during their sojourn. "It's outrageous, the waythey let these swindling little towns palm themselves off upon thetraveller for cities he's heard of. This place will be calling itselfBerlin, next. " When his wife, guide-book in hand, was struggling to heather admiration at some cold history of Kaulbach, and in her failureclinging fondly to the fact that Kaulbach had painted it, "Kaulbach!"the colonel would exclaim, and half close his eyes and slowly nod hishead and smile. "What guide-book is that you've got, Bessie?" lookingcuriously at the volume he knew so well. "Oh!--Baedeker! And are yougoing to let a Black Forest Dutchman like Baedeker persuade you thatthis daub is by Kaulbach? Come! That's a little too much!" He rejectedthe birthplaces of famous persons one and all; they could not drivethrough a street or into a park, whose claims to be this or that streetor park he did not boldly dispute; and he visited a pitiless incredulityupon the dishes of the _table d'hôte_, concerning which he alwaysanswered his wife's questions: "Oh, he _says_ it's beef, " or veal, orfowl, as the case might be; and though he never failed to relish his owndinner, strange fears began to affect the appetite of Mrs. Kenton. Ithappened that he never did come out with these sneers before othertravellers, but his wife was always expecting him to do so, andafterwards portrayed herself as ready to scream, the whole time. She wasnot a nervous person, and regarding the colonel's jokes as part of thematrimonial contract, she usually bore them, as I have hinted, withsevere composure; accepting them all, good, bad, and indifferent, assomething in the nature of man which she should understand better afterthey had been married longer. The present journey was made just afterthe close of the war; they had seen very little of each other while hewas in the army, and it had something of the fresh interest of a bridaltour. But they sojourned only a day or two in the places betweenStrasburg and Vienna; it was very cold and very unpleasant gettingabout, and they instinctively felt what every wise traveller knows, thatit is folly to be lingering in Germany when you can get into Italy; andso they hurried on. 

It was nine o'clock one night when they reached Salzburg; and when theirbaggage had been visited and their passports examined, they had stillhalf an hour to wait before the train went on. They profited by thedelay to consider what hotel they should stop at in Vienna, and theyadvised with their Bradshaw on the point. This railway guide gave in itslaconic fashion several hotels, and specified the Kaiserin Elisabeth asone at which there was a table d'hôte, briefly explaining that at mosthotels in Vienna there was none. 

"That settles it, " said Mrs. Kenton. "We will go to the KaiserinElisabeth, of course. I'm sure I never want the bother of orderingdinner in English, let alone German, which never was meant for humanbeings to speak. "

"It's a language you can't tell the truth in, " said the colonelthoughtfully. "You can't call an open country an open country; you haveto call it a Black Forest. " Mrs. Kenton sighed patiently. "But I don'tknow about this Kaiserin Elisabeth business. How do we know that's the_real_ name of the hotel? How can _we_ be sure that it isn't an _alias_, an assumed name, trumped up for the occasion? I tell you, Bessie, wecan't be too cautious as long as we're in this fatherland of lies. Whatguide-book is this? Baedeker? Oh! Bradshaw. Well, that's some comfort. Bradshaw's an Englishman, at least. If it had been Baedeker"--

"Oh, Edward, Edward!" Mrs. Kenton burst out. "Will you _never_ give thatup? Here you've been harping on it for the last four days, and worryingmy life out with it. I think it's unkind. It's perfectly bewildering me. I don't know where or what I am, any more. " Some tears of vexationstarted to her eyes, at which Colonel Kenton put the shaggy arm of hisovercoat round her, and gave her an honest hug. 

"Well, " he said, "I give it up, from this out. Though I shall always saythat it was a joke that wore well. And I can tell you, Bessie, that it'sno small sacrifice to give up a joke that you've just got into primeworking order, so that you can use it on almost anything that comes up. But that's a thing that you can never understand. Let it all pass. We'llgo to the Kaiserin Elisabeth, and submit to any sort of impositionthey've a mind to practise upon us. I shall not breathe freely, Isuppose, till we get into Italy, where people mean what they say. Haw, haw, haw!" laughed the colonel, "honest Iago's the man _I'm_ after. "

The doors of the waiting-room were thrown open, and cries of "ErsteKlasse! Zweite Klasse! Dritte Klasse!" summoned the variously assortedpassengers to carriages of their several degrees. The colonel lifted hislittle wife into a non-smoking first-class carriage, and established heragainst the cushioned barrier dividing the two seats, so that her feetcould just reach the hot-water bottle, as he called it, and tucked herin and built her up so with wraps that she was a prodigy of comfort; andthen folding about him the long fur-lined coat which she had bought himat Munich (in spite of his many protests that the fur was artificial), he sat down on the seat opposite, and proudly enjoyed the perfectcontent that beamed from Mrs. Kenton's face, looking so small from herheap of luxurious coverings. 

"Well, Bessie, this would be very pleasant--if you could believe in it, "he said, as the train smoothly rolled out of the station. "But of courseit can't be genuine. There must be some dodge about it. I've no doubtyou'll begin to feel perfectly horrid, the first thing you know. "

Mrs. Kenton let him go on, as he did at some length, and began todrowse, while he amused himself with a gross parody of things she hadsaid during the past four days. In those years while their wedded blisswas yet practically new, Colonel Kenton found his wife an inexhaustiblesource of mental refreshment. He prized beyond measure the feminineinadequacy and excess of her sayings; he had stored away such a varietyof these that he was able to talk her personal parlance for an hourtogether; indeed, he had learned the trick of inventing phrases so muchin her manner that Mrs. Kenton never felt quite safe in disowning anymonstrous thing attributed to her. Her drowse now became a little nap, and presently a delicious doze, in which she drifted far away fromactual circumstance into a realm where she seemed to exist as a mereairy thought of her physical self; suddenly she lost this thought, andslept through all stops at stations and all changes of the hot-watercylinder, to renew which the guard, faithful to Colonel Kenton's bribe, alone opened the door. 

"Wake up, Bessie!" she heard her husband saying. "We're at Vienna. "

It seemed very improbable, but she did not dispute it. "What time isit?" she asked, as she suffered herself to be lifted from the carriageinto the keen air of the winter night. 

"Three o'clock, " said the colonel, hurrying her into the waiting-room, where she sat, still somewhat remote from herself but getting nearer andnearer, while he went off about the baggage. "Now, then!" he criedcheerfully when he returned; and he led his wife out and put her into a_fiacre_. The driver bent from his perch and arrested the colonel, as hewas getting in after Mrs. Kenton, with words in themselvesunintelligible, but so probably in demand for neglected instructionsthat the colonel said, "Oh! Kaiserin Elisabeth!" and again bowed hishead towards the fiacre door, when the driver addressed further speechto him, so diffuse and so presumably unnecessary that Colonel Kentonmerely repeated, with rising impatience, "Kaiserin Elisabeth, --KaiserinElisabeth, I tell you!" and getting in shut the fiacre door after him. 

The driver remained a moment in mumbled soliloquy; then he smacked hiswhip and drove rapidly away. They were aware of nothing outside but thestarlit winter morning in unknown streets, till they plunged at lastunder an archway and drew up at a sort of lodge door, from which issuedan example of the universal gold-cap-banded continental hotel _portier_, so like all others in Europe that it seemed idle for him to be leadingan individual existence. He took the colonel's passport and summoned awaiter, who went bowing before them up a staircase more or lessgrandiose, and led them to a pleasant chamber, whither he sent directlya woman servant. She bade them a hearty good morning in her tongue, and, kneeling down before the tall porcelain stove, kindled from her apronfulof blocks and sticks a fire that soon penetrated the travellers with arich comfort. It was of course too early yet to think of breakfast, butit was fortunately not too late to think of sleep. They were both verytired, and it was almost noon when they woke. The colonel had the firerekindled, and he ordered breakfast to be served them in their room. "Beefsteak and coffee--here!" he said, pointing to the table; and as hemade Mrs. Kenton snug near the stove he expatiated in her own terms uponthe perfect loveliness of the whole affair, and the touch of nature thatmade coffee and beefsteak the same in every language. It seemed that theKaiserin Elisabeth knew how to serve such a breakfast in faultlesstaste; and they sat long over it, in that sense of sovereignsatisfaction which beefsteak and coffee in your own room can best give. At last the colonel rose briskly and announced the order of the day. They were to go here, they were to stop there; they were to see this, they were to do that. 

"Nothing of the kind, " said Mrs. Kenton. "I am not going out at allto-day. It's too cold; and if we are to push on to Trieste to-morrow, Ishall need the whole day to get a little rested. Besides, I have somejobs of mending to do that can't be put off any longer. "

The colonel listened with an air of joyous admiration. "Bessie, " saidhe, "this is inspiration. _I_ don't want to see their old town; and Ishall ask nothing better than to spend the day with you here at our ownfireside. You can sew, and I--I'll _read_ to you, Bessie!" This was alittle too gross; even Mrs. Kenton laughed at this, the act of readingbeing so abhorrent to Colonel Kenton's active temperament that he wasnotorious for his avoidance of all literature except newspapers. Inabout ten minutes, passed in an agreeable idealization of his purpose, which came in that time to include the perusal of all the books on Italyhe had picked up on their journey, the colonel said he would go down andask the portier if they had the New York papers. 

When he returned, somewhat disconsolate, to say they had not, and hadapparently never heard of the Herald or Tribune, his wife smiled subtly:"Then I suppose you'll have to go to the consul's for them. "

"Why, Bessie, it isn't a thing I should have suggested; I can't bearthe thoughts of leaving you here alone; but as you _say_! No, I'll tellyou: I'll not go for the New York papers, but I will just step round andcall upon the representative of the country--pay my respects to him, youknow--if you _wish_ it. But I'd far rather spend the time here with you, Bessie, in our cosy little boudoir; I would, indeed. "

Mrs. Kenton now laughed outright, and--it was a tremendous sarcasm forher--asked him if he were not afraid the example of the Black Forest wasbecoming infectious. 

"Oh, come now, Bessie; no joking, " pleaded the colonel, in mockdistress. "I'll tell you what, my dear, the head waiter here speaksEnglish like a--an Ollendorff; and if you get to feeling a littlelonesome while I'm out, you can just ring and order something from him, you know. It will cheer you up to hear the sound of your native tonguein a foreign land. But, pshaw! _I_ sha'nt be gone a minute!"

By this time the colonel had got on his overcoat and gloves, and had hishat in one hand, and was leaning over his wife, resting the other handon the back of the chair in which she sat warming the toes of herslippers at the draft of the stove. She popped him a cheery little kisson his mustache, and gave him a small push: "Stay as long as you like, Ned. I shall not be in the least lonesome. I shall do my mending, andthen I shall take a nap, and by that time it will be dinner. You needn'tcome back before dinner. What hour is the table d'hôte?"

"Oh!" cried the colonel guiltily. "The fact is, I wasn't going to tellyou, I thought it would vex you so much: there _is_ no table d'hôte hereand never was. Bradshaw has been depraved by the moral atmosphere ofGermany. I'd as soon trust Baedeker after this. "

"Well, never mind, " said Mrs. Kenton. "We can tell them to bring us whatthey like for dinner, and we can have it whenever _we_ like. "

"Bessie!" exclaimed the colonel, "I have not done justice to you, and Isupposed I had. I knew how bright and beautiful you were, but I _didn't_think you were so amiable. I didn't, indeed. This is a real surprise, "he said, getting out at the door. He opened it to add that he would beback in an hour, and then he went his way, with the light heart of ahusband who has a day to himself with his wife's full approval. 

At the consulate a still greater surprise awaited Colonel Kenton. Thiswas the consul himself, who proved to be an old companion-in-arms, andinto whose awful presence the colonel was ushered by a _Hausmeister_ ina cocked hat and a gold-braided uniform finer than that of all theAmerican major-generals put together. The friends both shouted "Hollo!"and "_You_ don't say so!" and threw back their heads and laughed. 

"Why, didn't you know I was here?" demanded the consul when the hardwork of greeting was over. "I thought everybody knew that. "

"Oh, I knew you were rusting out in some of these Dutch towns, but Inever supposed it was Vienna. But that doesn't make any difference, solong as you _are_ here. " At this they smacked each other on the knees, and laughed again. That carried them by a very rough point in theirastonishment, and they now composed themselves to the pleasure oftelling each other how they happened to be then and there, with glancesat their personal history when they were making it together in thefield. 

"Well, now, what are you going to do the rest of the day?" asked theconsul at last, with a look at his watch. "As I understand it, you 'regoing to spend it with me, somehow. The question is, how would you liketo spend it?"

"This is a handsome offer, Davis; but I don't see how I'm to manageexactly, " replied the colonel, for the first time distinctly recallingthe memory of Mrs. Kenton. "My wife wouldn't know what had become of me, you know. "

"Oh, yes, she would, " retorted the consul, with a bachelor's ignorantease of mind on a point of that kind. "We'll go round and take her withus. "

The colonel gravely shook his head. "She wouldn't go, old fellow. She'sin for a day's rest and odd jobs. I'll tell you what, I'll just dropround and let her know I've found you, and then come back again. You'lldine with us, won't you?" Colonel Kenton had not always found oldcomradeship a bond between Mrs. Kenton and his friends, but he believedhe could safely chance it with Davis, whom she had always ratherliked, --with such small regard as a lady's devotion to her husbandleaves her for his friends. 

"Oh, I'll _dine_ with you fast enough, " said his friend. "But why don'tyou send a note to Mrs. Kenton to say that we'll be round together, andsave yourself the bother? Did you come here alone?"

"Bless your heart, no! I forgot him. The poor devil's out there, coolinghis heels on your stairs all this time. I came with a complete guide toVienna. Can't you let him in out of the weather a minute?"

"We'll have him in, so that he can take your note back; but he doesn'texpect to be decently treated: they don't, here. You just sit down andwrite it, " said the consul, pushing the colonel into his own chairbefore his desk; and when the colonel had superscribed his note, hecalled in the _Lohndiener_, --patient, hat in hand, --and, "Where are youstopping?" he asked the colonel. 

"Oh, I forgot that. At the Kaiserin Elisabeth. I'll just write it"--

"Never mind; we'll tell him where to take it. See here, " added theconsul in a serviceable Viennese German of his own construction. "Takethis to the Kaiserin Elisabeth, quick;" and as the man looked up in adull surprise, "Do you hear? The Kaiserin Elisabeth!"

"_I_ don't know what it is about that hotel, " said the colonel, when theman had meekly bowed himself away, with a hat that swept the ground inhonor of a handsome drink-money; "but the mention of it always seems toawaken some sort of reluctance in the minds of the lower classes. Ourdriver wanted to enter into conversation with me about it this morningat three o'clock, and I had to be pretty short with him. If you don'tknow the language, it isn't so difficult to be short in German as I'veheard. And another curious thing is that Bradshaw says the KaiserinElisabeth has a table d'hôte, and the head-waiter says she hasn't, andnever did have. "

"Oh, you can't trust anybody in Europe, " said the consul sententiously. "I'd leave Bradshaw and the waiter to fight it out among themselves. We'll get back in time to order a dinner; it's always better, and thenwe can dine alone, and have a good time. "

"They couldn't keep us from having a good time at a table d'hôte, even. But I don't mind. "

By this time they had got on their hats and coats and sallied forth. They first went to a café and had some of that famous Viennese coffee;and then they went to the imperial and municipal arsenals, and viewedthose collections of historical bricabrac, including the head of theunhappy Turkish general who was strangled by his sovereign because hefailed to take Vienna in 1683. This from familiarity had no longer anyeffect upon the consul, but it gave Colonel Kenton prolonged pause. "Ishould have preferred a subordinate position in the sultan's army, Ibelieve, " he said. "Why, Davis, what a museum we could have had out ofthe Army of the Potomac alone, if Lincoln had been as particular as thatsultan!"

From the arsenals they went to visit the parade-ground of the garrison, and came in time to see a manoeuvre of the troops, at which theylooked with the frank respect and reserved superiority with which ourveterans seem to regard the military of Europe. Then they walked aboutand noted the principal monuments of the city, and strolled along thepromenades and looked at the handsome officers and the beautiful women. Colonel Kenton admired the life and the gay movement everywhere; sinceleaving Paris he had seen nothing so much like New York. But he did notlike their shovelling up the snow into carts everywhere and dumping allthat fine sleighing into the Danube. "By the way, " said his friend, "let's go over into Leopoldstadt, and see if we can't scare up a sleighfor a little turn in the suburbs. "

"It's getting late, isn't it?" asked the colonel. 

"Not so late as it looks. You know we haven't the high American sun, here. "

Colonel Kenton was having such a good time that he felt no trouble abouthis wife, sitting over her mending in the Kaiserin Elisabeth; and heyielded joyfully, thinking how much she would like to hear about thesuburbs of Vienna: a husband will go through almost any pleasure inorder to give his wife an entertaining account of it afterwards;besides, a bachelor companionship is confusing: it makes many thingsappear right and feasible which are perhaps not so. It was not tilltheir driver, who had turned out of the beaten track into a waysidedrift to make room for another vehicle, attempted to regain the road bytoo abrupt a movement, and the shafts of their sledge responded with aloud crick-crack, that Colonel Kenton perceived the error into which hehad suffered himself to be led. At three miles' distance from the city, and with the winter twilight beginning to fall, he felt the pang of asudden remorse. It grew sorer with every homeward step and with eachsuccessive failure to secure a conveyance for their return. In fine, they trudged back to Leopoldstadt, where an absurd series ofdiscomfitures awaited them in their attempts to get a fiacre over intothe main city. They visited all the stands known to the consul, and thenthey were obliged to walk. But they were not tired, and they made theirdistance so quickly that Colonel Kenton's spirits rose again. He wasable for the first time to smile at their misadventure, and somemisgivings as to how Mrs. Kenton might stand affected towards a guestunder the circumstances yielded to the thought of how he should make herlaugh at them both. "Good old Davis!" mused the colonel, andaffectionately linked his arm through that of his friend; and theystamped through the brilliantly lighted streets gay with uniforms andthe picturesque costumes with which the Levant at Vienna encounters theLondon and Paris fashions. Suddenly the consul arrested their movement. "Didn't you say you were stopping at the Kaiserin Elisabeth?"

"Why, yes; certainly. "

"Well, it's just around the corner, here. " The consul turned him about, and in another minute they walked under an archway into a court-yard, and were met by the portier at the door of his room with an inquiringobeisance. 

Colonel Kenton started. The cap and the cap-band were the same, and itwas to all intents and purposes the same portier who had bowed him awayin the morning; but the face was different. On noting this fact ColonelKenton observed so general a change in the appointments and evenarchitecture of the place that, "Old fellow, " he said to the consul, "you've made a little mistake; this isn't the Kaiserin Elisabeth. "

The consul referred the matter to the portier. Perfectly; that was theKaiserin Elisabeth. "Well, then, " said the colonel, "tell him to have usshown to my room. " The portier discovered a certain embarrassment whenthe colonel's pleasure was made known to him, and ventured something inreply which made the consul smile. 

"Look here, Kenton, " he said, "_you've_ made a little mistake, thistime. You're not stopping at the Kaiserin Elisabeth!"

"Oh, pshaw! Come now! Don't bring the consular dignity so low as toenter into a practical joke with a hotel porter. It won't do. We gotinto Vienna this morning at three, and drove straight to the KaiserinElisabeth. We had a room and fire, and breakfast about noon. Tell himwho I am, and what I say. "

The consul did so, the portier slowly and respectfully shaking his headat every point. When it came to the name, he turned to his books, andshook his head yet more impressively. Then he took down a letter, spelled its address, and handed it to the colonel; it was his own noteto Mrs. Kenton. That quite crushed him. He looked at it in a dull, mechanical way, and nodded his head with compressed lips. Then hescanned the portier, and glanced round once more at the bedevilledarchitecture. "Well, " said he, at last, "there's a mistake somewhere. Unless there are two Kaiserin Elisabeths--. Davis, ask him if there aretwo Kaiserin Elisabeths. "

The consul compassionately put the question, received with somethinglike grief by the portier. Impossible!

"Then I'm not stopping at either of them, " continued the colonel. "Sofar, so good, --if you want to call it _good_. The question is now, ifI'm not stopping at the Kaiserin Elisabeth, " he demanded, with suddenheat, and raising his voice, "how the devil did I get there?"

The consul at this broke into a fit of laughter so violent that theportier retired a pace or two from these maniacs, and took up a safeposition within his doorway. "You didn't--you didn't--get there!"shrieked the consul. "That's what made the whole trouble. You--you meantwell, but you got somewhere else. " He took out his handkerchief andwiped the tears from his eyes. 

The colonel did not laugh; he had no real pleasure in the joke. On thecontrary, he treated it as a serious business. "Very well, " said he, "itwill be proved next that I never told that driver to take me to theKaiserin Elisabeth, as it appears that I never got there and am notstopping there. Will you be good enough to tell me, " he asked, withpolished sarcasm, "where I _am_ stopping, and why, and how?'

"I wish with all my heart I could, " gasped his friend, catching hisbreath, "but I can't, and the only way is to go round to the principalhotels till we hit the right one. It won't take long. Come!" He passedhis arm through that of the colonel, and made an explanation to theportier, as if accounting for the vagaries of some harmless eccentric hehad in charge. Then he pulled his friend gently away, who yielded aftera survey of the portier and the court-yard with a frown in which anindignant sense of injury quite eclipsed his former bewilderment. He hadstill this defiant air when they came to the next hotel, and used theportier with so much severity on finding that he was not stopping there, either, that the consul was obliged to protest: "If you behave in thatway, Kenton, I won't go with you. The man's perfectly innocent of yourstopping at the wrong place; and some of these hotel people know me, andI won't stand your bullying them. And I tell you what: you've got to letme have my laugh out, too. You know the thing's perfectly ridiculous, and there's no use putting any other face on it. " The consul did notwait for leave to have his laugh out, but had it out in a series offurious gusts. At last the colonel himself joined him ruefully. 

"Of course, " said he, "I know I'm an ass, and I wouldn't mind it on myown account. _I_ would as soon roam round after that hotel the rest ofthe night as not, but I can't help feeling anxious about my wife. I'mafraid she'll be getting very uneasy at my being gone so long. She's allalone, there, wherever it is, and--"

"Well, but she's got your note. She'll understand--"

"What a fool _you_ are, Davis! _There's_ my note!" cried the colonel, opening his fist and showing a very small wad of paper in his palm. "She'd have got my note if she'd been at the Kaiserin Elisabeth; butshe's no more there than I am. "

"Oh!" said his friend, sobered at this. "To be sure! Well?"

"Well, it's no use trying to tell a man like you; but I suppose thatshe's simply distracted by this time. You don't know what a woman is, and how she can suffer about a little matter when she gives her mind toit. "

"Oh!" said the consul again, very contritely. "I'm very sorry I laughed;but"--here he looked into the colonel's gloomy face with a countenancecontorted with agony--"this only makes it the more ridiculous, youknow;" and he reeled away, drunk with the mirth which filled him fromhead to foot. But he repented again, and with a superhuman effort so farsubdued his transports as merely to quake internally, and tremble allover, as he led the way to the next hotel, arm in arm with thebewildered and embittered colonel. He encouraged the latter with muchgenuine sympathy, and observed a proper decorum in his interviews withone portier after another, formulating the colonel's story very neatly, and explaining at the close that this American Herr, who had arrived atVienna before daylight and directed his driver to take him to theKaiserin Elisabeth, and had left his hotel at one o'clock in the beliefthat it was the Kaiserin Elisabeth, felt now an added eagerness to knowwhat his hotel really was from the circumstance that his wife was therequite alone and in probable distress at his long absence. At firstColonel Kenton took a lively interest in this statement of his case, andprompted the consul with various remarks and sub-statements; he wasgrateful for the compassion generally shown him by the portiers, and hestrove with himself to give some account of the exterior and locality ofhis mysterious hotel. But the fact was that he had not so much as lookedbehind him when he quitted it, and knew nothing about its appearance;and gradually the reiteration of the points of his misadventure to oneportier after another began to be as "a tale of little meaning, thoughthe words are strong. " His personation of an American Herr in greattrouble of mind was an entire failure, except as illustrating thenational apathy of countenance when under the influence of strongemotion. He ceased to take part in the consul's efforts in his behalf;the whole abominable affair seemed as far beyond his forecast orendeavor as some result of malign enchantment, and there was no suchthing as carrying off the tragedy with self-respect. Distressing as itwas, there could be no question but it was entirely ridiculous; he hunghis head with shame before the portiers at being a party to it; he nolonger felt like resenting Davis's amusement; he only wondered that hecould keep his face in relating the idiotic mischance. Each successivefailure to discover his lodging confirmed him in his humiliation anddespair. Very likely there was a way out of the difficulty, but he didnot know it. He became at last almost an indifferent spectator of theconsul's perseverance. He began to look back with incredulity at theperiod of his life passed before entering the fatal fiacre that morning. He received the final portier's rejection with something like a personalderision. 

"That's the last place I can think of, " said the consul, wiping his browas they emerged from the court-yard, for he had grown very warm withwalking so much. 

"Oh, all right, " said the colonel languidly. 

"But we won't give it up. Let's go in here and get some coffee, andthink it over a bit. " They were near one of the principal cafés, whichwas full of people smoking, and drinking the Viennese _mélange_ out oftumblers. 

"By all means, " assented Colonel Kenton with inconsequent courtliness, "think it over. It's all that's left us. "

Matters did not look so dark, quite, after a tumbler of coffee withmilk, but they did not continue to brighten so much as they ought withthe cigars. "Now let us go through the facts of the case, " said theconsul, and the colonel wearily reproduced his original narrative withevery possible circumstance. "But you know all about it, " he concluded. "I don't see any end of it. I don't see but I'm to spend the rest of mylife in hunting up a hotel that professes to be the Kaiserin Elisabeth, and isn't. I never knew anything like it. "

"It certainly has the charm of novelty, " gloomily assented the consul:it must be owned that his gloom was a respectful feint. "I have heard ofmen running away from their hotels, but I never did hear of a hotelrunning away from a man before now. Yes--hold on! I have, too. Aladdin'spalace--and with Mrs. Aladdin in it, at that! It's a parallel case. "Here he abandoned himself as usual, while Colonel Kenton viewed hismirth with a dreary grin. When he at last caught his breath, "I begyour pardon, I do, indeed, " the consul implored. "I know just how youfeel, but of course it's coming out right. We've been to all the hotelsI know of, but there must be others. We'll get some more names and startat once; and if the genie has dropped your hotel anywhere this side ofAfrica we shall find it. If the worst comes to the worst, you can stayat my house to-night and start new to-m--Oh, I forgot!--Mrs. Kenton!Really, the whole thing is such an amusing muddle that I can't seem toget over it. " He looked at Kenton with tears in his eyes, but containedhimself and decorously summoned a waiter, who brought him whatevercorresponds to a city directory in Vienna. "There!" he said, when he hadcopied into his note-book a number of addresses, "I don't think yourhotel will escape us this time;" and discharging his account he led theway to the door, Colonel Kenton listlessly following. 

The wretched husband was now suffering all the anguish of a justremorse, and the heartlessness of his behavior in going off upon his ownpleasure the whole afternoon and leaving his wife alone in a strangehotel to pass the time as she might was no less a poignant reproach, because it seemed so inconceivable in connection with what he hadalways taken to be the kindness and unselfishness of his character. Weall know the sensation; and I know none, on the whole, so disagreeable, so little flattering, so persistent when once it has established itselfin the ill-doer's consciousness. To find out that you are not so good orgenerous or magnanimous as you thought is, next to having other peoplefind it out, probably the unfriendliest discovery that can be made. ButI suppose it has its uses. Colonel Kenton now saw the unhandsomeness ofhis leaving his wife at all, and he beheld in its true light hisshabbiness in not going back to tell her he had found his old friend andwas to bring him to dinner. The Lohndiener would of course have takenhim straight to his hotel, and he would have been spared this shamefulexposure, which, he knew well enough, Davis would never forget, butwould tell all his life with an ever-increasing garniture of fiction. Hecursed his weakness in allowing himself to dawdle about those arsenalsand that parade-ground, and to be so far misguided by a hardenedbachelor as to admire certain yellow-haired German and black-hairedHungarian women on the promenade; when he came to think of going out inthat sledge, it was with anathema maranatha. He groaned in spirit, buthe owned that he was rightly punished, though it seemed hard that hiswife should be punished too. And then he went on miserably to figurefirst her slight surprise at his being gone so long; then her vagueuneasiness and her conjectures; then her dawning apprehensions and herhelplessness; her probable sending to the consulate to find out what hadbecome of him; her dismay at learning nothing of him there; her waitingand waiting in wild dismay as the moments and hours went by; herfrenzied running to the door at every step and her despair when itproved not his. He had seen her suffering from less causes. And wherewas she? In what low, shabby tavern had he left her? He choked with rageand grief, and could hardly speak to the gentleman, a naturalizedfellow-citizen of Vienna, to whom he found the consul introducing him. 

"I wonder if you can't help us, " said the consul. "My friend here is thevictim of a curious annoyance;" and he stated the case in language sosympathetic and decorous as to restore some small shreds of thecolonel's self-respect. 

"Ah, " said their new acquaintance, who was mercifully not a man ofhumor, or too polite to seem so, "that's another trick of those scampsof fiacre-drivers. He took you purposely to the wrong hotel, and wasprobably feed by the landlord for bringing you. But why should you makeyourselves so much trouble? You know Colonel Kenton's landlord had tosend his name to the police as soon as he came, and you can get hisaddress there at once. "

"Good-by!" said the consul very hastily, with a crestfallen air. "Comealong, Kenton. "

"What did he send my name to the police for?" demanded the colonel, inthe open air. 

"Oh, it's a form. They do it with all travellers. It's merely to securethe imperial government against your machinations. "

"And do you mean to say you ought to have known, " cried the colonel, halting him, "that you could have found out where I was from the policeat once, before we had walked all over this moral vineyard, and wastedhalf a precious lifetime?"

"Kenton, " contritely admitted the other, "I never happened to think ofit. "

"Well, Davis, you're a pretty consul!" That was all the colonel said, and though his friend was voluble in self-exculpation and condemnation, he did not answer him a word till they arrived at the police office. Afew brief questions and replies between the commissary and the consulsolved the long mystery, and Colonel Kenton had once more a hotel overhis head. The commissary certified to the respectability of the place, but invited the colonel to prosecute the driver of the fiacre in behalfof the general public, --which seemed so right a thing that the colonelentered into it with zeal, and then suddenly relinquished it, remembering that he had not the rogue's number, that he had not so muchas looked at him, and that he knew no more what manner of man he wasthan his own image in a glass. Under the circumstances, the commissaryadmitted that it was impossible, and as to bringing the landlord tojustice, nothing could be proved against him. 

"Will you ask him, " said the colonel, "the outside price of afirst-class assault and battery in Vienna?"

The consul put as much of this idea into German as the language wouldcontain, which was enough to make the commissary laugh and shake hishead warningly. 

"It wouldn't do, he says, Kenton; it isn't the custom of the country. "

"Very well, then, I don't see why we should occupy his time. " He gavehis hand to the commissary, whom he would have liked to embrace, andthen hurried forth again with the consul. "There is one little thingthat worries me still, " he said. "I suppose Mrs. Kenton is simply crazyby this time. "

"Is she of a very--nervous--disposition?" faltered the consul. 

"Nervous? Well, if you could witness the expression of her emotions inregard to mice, you wouldn't ask that question, Davis. "

At this desolating reply the consul was mute for a moment. Then heventured: "I've heard--or read, I don't know which--that women have morereal fortitude than men, and that they find a kind of moral support inan actual emergency that they wouldn't find in--mice. "

"Pshaw!" answered the colonel. "You wait till you see Mrs. Kenton. "

"Look here, Kenton, " said the consul seriously, and stopping short. "I've been thinking that perhaps--I--I had better dine with you someother day. The fact is, the situation now seems so purely domestic thata third person, you know--"

"Come along!" cried the colonel. "I want you to help me out of thisscrape. I'm going to leave that hotel as soon as I can put my thingstogether, and you've got to browbeat the landlord for me while I go upand reassure my wife long enough to get her out of that den of thieves. What did you say the scoundrelly name was?"

"The Gasthof zum Wilden Manne. "

"And what does Wildun Manny mean?"

"The Sign of the Savage, we should make it, I suppose, --the Wild Man. "

"Well, I don't know whether it was named after me or not; but if I'dfound that sign anywhere for the last four or five hours, I should haveknown it for home. There hasn't been any wilder man in Vienna since thetown was laid out, I reckon; and I don't believe there ever was a wilderwoman anywhere than Mrs. Kenton is at this instant. "

Arrived at the Sign of the Savage, Colonel Kenton left his friend belowwith the portier, and mounting the stairs three steps at a time flew tohis room. Flinging open the door, he beheld his wife dressed in one ofher best silks, before the mirror, bestowing some last prinks, touchingher back hair with her hand and twitching the bow at her throat intoperfect place. She smiled at him in the glass, and said, "Where'sCaptain Davis?"

"Captain Davis?" gasped the colonel, dry-tongued with anxiety andfatigue. "Oh! _He's_ down there. He'll be up directly. "

She turned and came forward to him: "How do you like it?" Then sheadvanced near enough to encounter the moustache: "Why, how heated andtired you look!"

"Yes, yes, --we've been walking. I--I'm rather late, ain't I, Bessie?"

"About an hour. I ordered dinner at six, and it's nearly seven now. " Thecolonel started; he had not dared to look at his watch, and he hadsupposed it must be about ten o'clock; it seemed years since his searchfor the hotel had begun. But he said nothing; he felt that in somemysterious and unmerited manner Heaven was having mercy upon him, and heaccepted the grace in the sneaking way we all accept mercy. "I knewyou'd stay longer than you expected, when you found it was Davis. "

"How did you know it was Davis?" asked the colonel, blindly feeling hisway. 

Mrs. Kenton picked up her Almanach de Gotha. "It has all the consularand diplomatic corps in it. "

"I won't laugh at it any more, " said the colonel, humbly. "Weren'tyou--uneasy, Bessie?"

"No. I mended away, here, and fussed round the whole afternoon, puttingthe trunks to rights; and I got out this dress and ran a bit of laceinto the collar; and then I ordered dinner, for I knew you'd bring thecaptain; and I took a nap, and by that it was nearly dinner-time. "

"Oh!" said the colonel. 

"Yes; and the head-waiter was as polite as peas; they've all been veryattentive. I shall certainly recommend everybody to the KaiserinElisabeth. "

"Yes, " assented the wretched man. "I reckon it's about the best hotel inVienna. "

"Well, now, go and get Captain Davis. You can bring him right in here;we're only travellers. Why, what makes you act so queerly? Has anythinghappened?" Mrs. Kenton was surprised to find herself gathered into herhusband's arms and embraced with a rapture for which she could see noparticular reason. 

"Bessie, " said her husband, "I told you this morning that you wereamiable as well as bright and beautiful; I now wish to add that you aresensible. I'm awfully ashamed of being gone so long. But the fact is wehad a little accident. Our sleigh broke down out in the country, and wehad to walk back. "

"Oh, you poor old fellow! No wonder you look tired. "

He accepted the balm of her compassion like a candid and innocent man:"Yes, it was pretty rough. But _I_ didn't mind it, except on youraccount. I thought the delay would make you uneasy. " With that he wentout to the head of the stairs and called, "Davis!"

"Yes!" responded the consul; and he ascended the stairs in suchtrepidation that he tripped and fell part of the way up. 

"Have you been saying anything to that man about my going away?"

"No, I've simply been blowing him up on the fiacre driver's account. Heswears they are innocent of collusion. But of course they're not. "

"Well, all right. Mrs. Kenton is waiting for us to go to dinner. Andlook here, " whispered the colonel, "don't you open your mouth, except toput something into it, till I give you the cue. "

The dinner was charming, and had suffered little or nothing from thedelay. Mrs. Kenton was in raptures with it, and after a thimbleful ofthe good Hungarian wine had attuned her tongue, she began to sing thepraises of the Kaiserin Elisabeth. 

"The K----" began the consul, who had hitherto guarded himself verywell. But the colonel arrested him at that letter with a terrible look. He returned the look with a glance of intelligence, and resumed: "TheKaiserin Elisabeth has the best cook in Vienna. "

"And everybody about has such nice, honest faces, " said Mrs. Kenton. "I'm sure I couldn't have felt anxious if you hadn't come till midnight:I knew I was perfectly secure here. "

"Quite right, quite right, " said the consul. "All classes of theViennese are so faithful. Now, I dare say you could have trusted thatdriver of yours, who brought you here before daylight this morning, withuntold gold. No stranger need fear any of the tricks ordinarilypractised upon travellers in Vienna. They are a truthful, honest, virtuous population, --like all the Germans in fact. "

"There, Ned! What do you say to that, with your Black Forest nonsense?"triumphed Mrs. Kenton. 

Colonel Kenton laughed sheepishly: "Well, I take it all back, Bessie. Iwasn't quite satisfied with the appearance of the Black Forest countrywhen I came to it, " he explained to the consul, "and Mrs. Kenton and Ihad our little joke about the fraudulent nature of the Germans. "

"_Our_ little joke!" retorted his wife. "I wish we were going to staylonger in Vienna. They say you have to make bargains for everything inItaly, and here I suppose I could shop just as at home. "

"Precisely, " said the consul; the Viennese shopkeepers being the mostnotorious Jews in Europe. 

"Oh, we can't stop longer than till the morning, " remarked the colonel. "I shall be sorry to leave Vienna and the Kaiserin Elizabeth, but wemust go. "

"Better hang on awhile; you won't find many hotels like it, Kenton, "observed his friend. 

"No, I suppose not, " sighed the colonel; "but I'll get the address oftheir correspondent in Venice and stop there. "

Thus these craven spirits combined to delude and deceive the helplesswoman of whom half an hour before they had stood in such abject terror. If they had found her in hysterics they would have pitied and respectedher; but her good sense, her amiability, and noble self-controlsubjected her to their shameless mockery. 

Colonel Kenton followed the consul downstairs when he went away, andpretended to justify himself. "I'll tell her one of these days, " hesaid, "but there's no use distressing her now. "

"I didn't understand you at first, " said the other. "But I see now itwas the only way. "

"Yes; saves needless suffering. I say, Davis, this is about an eventhing between us? A United States consul ought to be of some use to hisfellow-citizens abroad; and if he allows them to walk their legs offhunting up a hotel which he could have found at the first police-stationif _he had happened to think of it_, he won't be very anxious to tellthe joke, I suppose?"

"I don't propose to write home to the papers about it. "

"All right. " So, in the court-yard of the Wild Man, they parted. 

Long after that Mrs. Kenton continued to recommend people to theKaiserin Elisabeth. Even when the truth was made known to her she didnot see much to laugh at. "I'm sure I was always very glad the coloneldidn't tell me at once, " she said, "for if I had known what I had beenthrough, I certainly _should_ have gone distracted. "

TONELLI'S MARRIAGE. 

There was no richer man in Venice than Tommaso Tonelli, who had enoughon his florin a day; and none younger than he, who owned himselfforty-seven years old. He led the cheerfullest life in the world, andwas quite a monster of content; but when I come to sum up his pleasures, I fear that I shall appear to my readers to be celebrating a veryinsipid and monotonous existence. I doubt if even a summary of hisduties could be made attractive to the conscientious imagination ofhard-working people; for Tonelli's labors were not killing, nor, forthat matter, were those of any Venetian that I ever knew. He had astated employment in the office of the notary Cenarotti; and he passedthere so much of every working day as lies between nine and fiveo'clock, writing upon deeds and conveyances and petitions and otherlegal instruments for the notary, who sat in an adjoining room, secludedfrom nearly everything in this world but snuff. He called Tonelli by thesound of a little bell; and, when he turned to take a paper from hissafe, he seemed to be abstracting some secret from long-lapsedcenturies, which he restored again, and locked back among the dead ageswhen his clerk replaced the document in his hands. These hands were verysoft and pale, and their owner was a colorless old man, whose silveryhair fell down a face nearly as white; but, as he has almost nothing todo with the present affair, I shall merely say that, having beencompromised in the last revolution, he had been obliged to live eversince in perfect retirement, and that he seemed to have been blanched inthis social darkness as a plant is blanched by growth in a cellar. Hisenemies said that he was naturally a timid man, but they could not denythat he had seen things to make the brave afraid, or that he had nowevery reason from the police to be secret and cautious in his life. Hecould hardly be called company for Tonelli, who must have found the dayintolerably long but for the visit which the notary's prettygranddaughter contrived to pay every morning in the cheerless _mezzà_. She commonly appeared on some errand from her mother, but her chiefbusiness seemed to be to share with Tonelli the modest feast of rumorand hearsay which he loved to furnish forth for her, and from whichdoubtless she carried back some fragments of gossip to the familyapartments. Tonelli called her, with that mingled archness andtenderness of the Venetians, his Paronsina; and, as he had seen her growup from the smallest possible of Little Mistresses, there was no shynessbetween them, and they were fully privileged to each other's society byher mother. When she flitted away again, Tonelli was left to a stillnessbroken only by the soft breathing of the old man in the next room, andby the shrill discourse of his own loquacious pen, so that he wascommonly glad enough when it came five o'clock. At this hour he put onhis black coat, that shone with constant use, and his faithful silk hat, worn down to the pasteboard with assiduous brushing, and caught up avery jaunty cane in his hand. Then, saluting the notary, he took his wayto the little restaurant, where it was his custom to dine, and had histripe soup and his _risotto_, or dish of fried liver, in the austeresilence imposed by the presence of a few poor Austrian captains andlieutenants. It was not that the Italians feared to be overheard bythese enemies; but it was good _dimostrazione_ to be silent before theoppressor, and not let him know that they even enjoyed their dinnerswell enough, under his government, to chat sociably over them. To tellthe truth, this duty was an irksome one to Tonelli, who liked far betterto dine, as he sometimes did, at a cook-shop, where he met the folk ofthe people (_gente del popolo_), as he called them; and where, thoughhimself a person of civil condition, he discoursed freely with the otherguests, and ate of their humble but relishing fare. He was known amongthem as Sior Tommaso; and they paid him a homage, which they enjoyedequally with him, as a person not only learned in the law, but a poet ofgift enough to write wedding and funeral verses, and a veteran who hadfought for the dead Republic of Forty-eight. They honored him as a mosttravelled gentleman, who had been in the Tyrol, and who could havespoken German, if he had not despised that tongue as the language of theugly Croats, like one born to it. Who, for example, spoke Venetian moreelegantly than Sior Tommaso? or Tuscan, when he chose? and yet he waspoor, --a man of that genius! Patience! When Garibaldi came, we shouldsee! The _facchini_ and gondoliers, who had been wagging their tonguesall day at the church corners and ferries, were never tired of talkingof this gifted friend of theirs, when, having ended some impressivediscourse or some dramatic story, he left them with a sudden adieu, andwalked quickly away toward the Riva degli Schiavoni. 

Here, whether he had dined at the cook-shop, or at his more genteel andgloomy restaurant of the Bronze Horses, it was his custom to lounge anhour or two over a cup of coffee and a Virginia cigar at one of the manycaffès, and to watch all the world as it passed to and fro on the quay. Tonelli was gray, he did not disown it; but he always maintained thathis heart was still young, and that there was, moreover, a greatdifference in persons as to age, which told in his favor. So he loved tosit there, and look at the ladies; and he amused himself by inventing apet name for every face he saw, which he used to teach to certainfriends of his, when they joined him over his coffee. These friends wereall young enough to be his sons, and wise enough to be his fathers; butthey were always glad to be with him, for he had so cheery a wit and sogood a heart that neither his years nor his follies could make any onesad. His kind face beamed with smiles, when Pennellini, chief among theyoungsters in his affections, appeared on the top of the nearest bridge, and thence descended directly towards his little table. Then it was thathe drew out the straw which ran through the centre of his long Virginia, and lighted the pleasant weed, and gave himself up to the delight ofmaking aloud those comments on the ladies which he had hitherto stifledin his breast. Sometimes he would feign himself too deeply taken with apassing beauty to remain quiet, and would make his friend follow withhim in chase of her to the Public Gardens. But he was a fickle lover, and wanted presently to get back to his caffè, where, at decentintervals of days or weeks, he would indulge himself in discovering aspy in some harmless stranger, who, in going out, looked curiously atthe scar Tonelli's cheek had brought from the battle of Vicenza in 1848. 

"Something of a spy, no?" he asked at these times of the waiter, who, flattered by the penetration of a frequenter of his caffè, and theimplication that it was thought seditious enough to be watched by thepolice, assumed a pensive importance, and answered, "Something of a spy, certainly. "

Upon this Tonelli was commonly encouraged to proceed: "Did I ever tellyou how I once sent one of those ugly muzzles out of a caffè? I knew himas soon as I saw him, --I am never mistaken in a spy, --and I went with mynewspaper, and sat down close at his side. Then I whispered to himacross the sheet, 'We are two. ' 'Eh?' says he. 'It is a very smallcaffè, and there is no need of more than one, ' and then I stared at himand frowned. He looks at me fixedly a moment, then gathers up his hatand gloves, and takes his pestilency off. "

The waiter, who had heard this story, man and boy, a hundred times, madea quite successful show of enjoying it, as he walked away with Tonelli'sfee of half a cent in his pocket. Tonelli then had left from his day'ssalary enough to pay for the ice which he ate at ten o'clock, but whichhe would sometimes forego, in order to give the money in charity, thoughmore commonly he indulged himself, and put off the beggar with, "Anothertime, my dear. I have no leisure now to discuss those matters withthee. "

On holidays this routine of Tonelli's life was varied. In the forenoonhe went to mass at St. Mark's, to see the beauty and fashion of thecity; and then he took a walk with his four or five young friends, orwent with them to play at bowls, or even made an excursion to the mainland, where they hired a carriage, and all those Venetians got into it, like so many seamen, and drove the horse with as little mercy as if hehad been a sail-boat. At seven o'clock Tonelli dined with the notary, next whom he sat at table, and for whom his quaint pleasantries had azest that inspired the Paronsina and her mother to shout them into hisdull ears, that he might lose none of them. He laughed a kind of fadedlaugh at them, and, rubbing his pale hands together, showed by his actthat he did not think his best wine too good for his kindly guest. Thesignora feigned to take the same delight shown by her father anddaughter in Tonelli's drolleries; but I doubt if she had a great senseof his humor, or, indeed, cared anything for it save as she perceivedthat it gave pleasure to those she loved. Otherwise, however, she had asincere regard for him, for he was most useful and devoted to her in herquality of widowed mother; and if she could not feel wit, she could feelgratitude, which is perhaps the rarer gift, if not the more respectable. 

The Little Mistress was dependent upon him for nearly all the pleasuresand for the only excitements of her life. As a young girl she was atbest a sort of caged bird, who had to be guarded against the youth ofthe other sex as if they, on their part, were so many marauding andravening cats. During most days of the year the Paronsina's parrot hadalmost as much freedom as she. He could leave his gilded prison when hechose, and promenade the notary's house as far down as the marble wellin the sunless court, and the Paronsina could do little more. Thesignora would as soon have thought of letting the parrot walk acrosstheir campo alone as her daughter, though the local dangers, either tobird or beauty, could not have been very great. The green-grocer ofthat sequestered campo was an old woman, the apothecary was gray, andhis shop was haunted by none but superannuated physicians; the baker, the butcher, the waiters at the caffè were all professionally, and, aspurveyors to her family, out of the question; the sacristan, whosometimes appeared at the perruquier's to get a coal from under thecurling-tongs to kindle his censer, had but one eye, which he keptsingle to the service of the Church, and his perquisite ofcandle-drippings; and I hazard little in saying that the Paronsina mighthave danced a polka around Campo San Giuseppe without jeopardy so far asconcerned the handsome wood-carver, for his wife always sat in the shopbeside him. Nevertheless, a custom is not idly handed down by mother todaughter from the dawn of Christianity to the middle of the nineteenthcentury; and I cannot deny that the local perruquier, though stricken inyears, was still so far kept fresh by the immortal youth of the waxheads in his window as to have something beauish about him; or that, just at the moment the Paronsina chanced to go into the campo alone, a_leone_ from Florian's might not have been passing through it, when hewould certainly have looked boldly at her, perhaps spoken to her, andpossibly pounced at once upon her fluttering heart. So by day theParonsina rarely went out, and she never emerged unattended from thesilence and shadow of her grandfather's house. 

If I were here telling a story of the Paronsina, or indeed any story atall, I might suffer myself to enlarge somewhat upon the daily order ofher secluded life, and show how the seclusion of other Venetian girlswas the widest liberty as compared with hers; but I have no right toplay with the reader's patience in a performance that can promise noexcitement of incident, no charm of invention. Let him figure tohimself, if he will, the ancient and half-ruined palace in which thenotary dwelt, with a gallery running along one side of its inner court, the slender pillars supporting upon the corroded sculpture of theircapitals a clinging vine, that dappled the floor with palpitant lightand shadow in the afternoon sun. The gate, whose exquisite Saracenicarch grew into a carven flame, was surmounted by the armorial bearingsof a family that died of its sins against the Serenest Republic longago; the marble cistern which stood in the middle of the court had stilla ducal rose upon either of its four sides; and little lions of stoneperched upon the posts at the head of the marble stairway climbing tothe gallery, their fierce aspects worn smooth and amiable by the contactof hands that for many ages had mouldered in tombs. Toward the canalthe palace windows had been immemorially bricked up for some reason orcaprice, and no morning sunlight, save such as shone from the brighteyes of the Paronsina, ever looked into the dim halls. It was a fitabode for such a man as the notary, exiled in the heart of his nativecity, and it was not unfriendly in its influences to a quiet vegetationlike the signora's; but to the Paronsina it was sad as Venice itself, where, in some moods, I have wondered that any sort of youth could havethe courage to exist. Nevertheless, the Paronsina had contrived to growup here a child of the gayest and archest spirit, and to lead a life ofdue content, till after her return home from the comparative freedom andsociety of Madame Prateux's school, where she spent three years inlearning all polite accomplishments, and whence she came, with brillianthopes and romances ready imagined, for any possible exigency of thefuture. She adored all the modern Italian poets, and read their versewith that stately and rhythmical fulness of voice which often made itsublime and always pleasing. She was a relentless patriot, anItalianissima of the vividest green, white, and red; and she couldinterpret the historical novels of her countrymen in their subtilestapplication to the modern enemies of Italy. But all the Paronsina'sgifts and accomplishments were to poor purpose, if they brought no youngmen a-wooing under her balcony; and it was to no effect that her fervidfancy peopled the palace's empty halls with stately and gallant companyout of Marco Visconti, Nicolò de' Lapi, Margherita Pusterla, and theother romances, since she could not hope to receive any practicableoffer of marriage from the heroes thus assembled. Her grandfatherinvited no guests of more substantial presence to his house. In fact, the police watched him too narrowly to permit him to receive society, even had he been so minded, and for kindred reasons his family paid fewvisits in the city. To leave Venice, except for the autumnal_villeggiatura_ was almost out of the question; repeated applications atthe Luogotenenza won the two ladies but a tardy and scanty grace; andthe use of the passport allowing them to spend a few weeks in Florencewas attended with so much vexation, in coming and going upon theimperial confines, and when they returned home they were subject to sogreat fear of perquisition from the police, that it was after all rathera mortification than a pleasure that the government had given them. Thesignora received her few acquaintances once a week; but the Paronsinafound the old ladies tedious over their cups of coffee or tumblers oflemonade, and declared that her mamma's reception days were amartyrdom, --actually a martyrdom, to her. She was full of life and thebeautiful and tender longing of youth; she had a warm heart and asprightly wit; but she led an existence scarce livelier than a ghost's, and she was so poor in friends and resources that she shuddered to thinkwhat must become of her if Tonelli should die. It was not possible, thanks to God! that he should marry. 

The signora herself seldom cared to go out, for the reason that it wastoo cold in winter and too hot in summer. In the one season she clungall day to her wadded arm-chair, with her _scaldino_ in her lap; and inthe other season she found it a sufficient diversion to sit in the greathall of the palace, and be fanned by the salt breeze that came from theAdriatic through the vine-garlanded gallery. But besides this habitualinclemency of the weather, which forbade out-door exercise nearly thewhole year, it was a displeasure to walk in Venice on account of thestairways of the bridges; and the signora much preferred to wait tillthey went to the country in the autumn, when she always rode to take theair. The exceptions to her custom were formed by those after-dinnerpromenades which she sometimes made on holidays, in summer. Then she puton her richest black, and the Paronsina dressed herself in her best, andthey both went to walk on the Molo, before the pillars of the lion andthe saint, under the escort of Tonelli. 

It often happened that, at the hour of their arrival on the Molo, themoon was coming up over the low bank of the Lido in the east, and allthat prospect of ship-bordered quay, island, and lagoon, which, at itsworst, is everything that heart can wish, was then at its best, and farbeyond words to paint. On the right stretched the long Giudecca, withthe domes and towers of its Palladian church, and the swelling foliageof its gardens, and its line of warehouses--painted pink, as if evenBusiness, grateful to be tolerated amid such lovely scenes, had strivento adorn herself. In front lay San Giorgio, picturesque with its churchand pathetic with its political prisons; and, farther away to the eastagain, the gloomy mass of the madhouse at San Servolo, and then theslender campanili of the Armenian convent rose over the gleaming andtremulous water. Tonelli took in the beauty of the scene with no moreconsciousness than a bird; but the Paronsina had learnt from herromantic poets and novelists to be complimentary to prospects, and herheart gurgled out in rapturous praises of this. The unwonted freedomexhilarated her; there was intoxication in the encounter of faces on thepromenade, in the dazzle and glimmer of the lights, and even in themusic of the Austrian band playing in the Piazza, as it came purified toher patriotic ear by the distance. There were none but Italians upon theMolo, and one might walk there without so much as touching an officerwith the hem of one's garment; and, a little later, when the band ceasedplaying, she should go with the other Italians and possess the Piazzafor one blessed hour. In the mean time, the Paronsina had a sharp littletongue; and, after she had flattered the landscape, and had, from hertrue heart, once for all, saluted the promenaders as brothers andsisters in Italy, she did not mind making fun of their peculiarities ofdress and person. She was signally sarcastic upon such ladies as Tonellichanced to admire, and often so stung him with her jests that he wasglad when Pennellini appeared, as he always did exactly at nine o'clock, and joined the ladies in their promenade, asking and answering all thosequestions of ceremony which form Venetian greeting. He was a youth ofthe most methodical exactness in his whole life, and could no more havearrived on the Molo a moment before or after nine than the bronzegiants on the clock-tower could have hastened or lingered in strikingthe hour. Nature, which had made him thus punctual and precise, gave himalso good looks, and a most amiable kindness of heart. The Paronsinacared nothing at all for him in his quality of handsome young fellow;but she prized him as an acquaintance whom she might salute, and besaluted by, in a city where her grandfather's isolation kept her strangeto nearly all the faces she saw. Sometimes her evenings on the Molowasted away without the exchange of a word save with Tonelli, for hermother seldom talked; and then it was quite possible her teasing wasgreater than his patience, and that he grew taciturn under her tongue. At such times she hailed Pennellini's appearance with a double delight;for, if he never joined in her attacks upon Tonelli's favorites, healways enjoyed them, and politely applauded them. If his friendreproached him for this treason, he made him every amend in answering, "She is jealous, Tonelli, "--a wily compliment, which had the mostintense effect in coming from lips ordinarily so sincere as his. 

The signora was weary of the promenade long before the Austrian musicceased in the Piazza, and was very glad when it came time for them toleave the Molo, and go and sit down to an ice at the Caffè Florian. This was the supreme hour to the Paronsina, the one heavenly excess ofher restrained and eventless life. All about her were scattered tranquilItalian idlers, listening to the music of the strolling minstrels whohad succeeded the military band; on either hand sat her friends, and shehad thus the image of that tender devotion without which a young girl issaid not to be perfectly happy; while the very heart of adventure seemedto bound in her exchange of glances with a handsome foreigner at aneighboring table. On the other side of the Piazza a few officers stilllingered at the Caffè Quadri; and at the Specchi sundry groups ofcitizens in their dark dress contrasted well with these white uniforms;but, for the most part, the moon and gas-jets shone upon the broad, empty space of the Piazza, whose loneliness the presence of a fewbelated promenaders only served to render conspicuous. As the giantshammered eleven upon the great bell, the Austrian sentinel, under theDucal Palace, uttered a long, reverberating cry; and soon after a patrolof soldiers clanked across the Piazza, and passed with echoing feetthrough the arcade into the narrow and devious streets beyond. The younggirl found it hard to rend herself from the dreamy pleasure of thescene, or even to turn from the fine impersonal pain which the presenceof the Austrians in the spectacle inflicted. All gave an impressionsomething like that of the theatre, with the advantage that here one'sself was part of the pantomime; and in those days, when nearlyeverything but the puppet-shows was forbidden to patriots, it wasaltogether the greatest enjoyment possible to the Paronsina. The pensivecharm of the place imbued all the little company so deeply that theyscarcely broke it, as they loitered slowly homeward through the desertedMerceria. When they reached the Campo San Salvatore, on many a lovelysummer's midnight, their footsteps seemed to waken a nightingale whosecage hung from a lofty balcony there; for suddenly, at their coming, thebird broke into a wild and thrilling song, that touched them all, andsuffused the tender heart of the Paronsina with an inexpressible pathos. 

Alas! she had so often returned thus from the Piazza, and no stealthyfootstep had followed hers homeward with love's persistence anddiffidence! She was young, she knew, and she thought not quite dull orhideous; but her spirit was as sole in that melancholy city as if therewere no youth but hers in the world. And a little later than this, whenshe had her first affair, it did not originate in the Piazza, nor atall respond to her expectations in a love-affair. In fact, it wasaltogether a business affair, and was managed chiefly by Tonelli, whohaving met a young doctor, laurelled the year before at Padua, had heardhim express so pungent a curiosity to know what the Paronsina would haveto her dower, that he perceived he must be madly in love with her. Sowith the consent of the signora he had arranged a correspondence betweenthe young people; and all went on well at first, --the letters from bothpassing through his hands. But his office was anything but a sinecure, for while the Doctor was on his part of a cold temperament, and disposedto regard the affair merely as a proper way of providing for the naturalaffections, the Paronsina cared nothing for him personally, and onlyviewed him favorably as abstract matrimony, --as the means of escapingfrom the bondage of her girlhood and the sad seclusion of her life intothe world outside her grandfather's house. So presently thecorrespondence fell almost wholly upon Tonelli, who worked up to thepoint of betrothal with an expense of finesse and sentiment that wouldhave made his fortune in diplomacy or poetry. What should he say now?that stupid young Doctor would cry in a desperation, when Tonellidelicately reminded him that it was time to answer the Paronsina's lastnote. Say this, that, and the other, Tonelli would answer, giving himthe heads of a proper letter, which the Doctor took down on square bitsof paper, neatly fashioned for writing prescriptions. "And for God'ssake, caro dottore, put a little warmth into it!" The poor Doctor wouldtry, but it must always end in Tonelli's suggesting and almost dictatingevery sentence; and then the letter, being carried to the Paronsina madeher laugh: "This is very pretty, my poor Tonelli, but it was never myonoratissimo dottore who thought of these tender compliments. Ah! thatallusion to my mouth and eyes could only have come from the heart of agreat poet. It is yours, Tonelli, don't deny it. " And Tonelli, taken inhis weak point of literature, could make but a feeble pretence ofdisclaiming the child of his fancy, while the Paronsina, being in thisreckless humor, more than once responded to the Doctor in such fashionthat in the end the inspiration of her altered and amended letter wasTonelli's. Even after the betrothal, the lovemaking languished, and theDoctor was indecently patient of the late day fixed for the marriage bythe notary. In fact, the Doctor was very busy; and, as his practicegrew, the dower of the Paronsina dwindled in his fancy, till one day hetreated the whole question of their marriage with such coldness anduncertainty in his talk with Tonelli, that the latter saw whither histhoughts were drifting, and went home with an indignant heart to theParonsina, who joyfully sat down and wrote her first sincere letter tothe Doctor, dismissing him. 

"It is finished, " she said, "and I am glad. After all, perhaps, I don'twant to be any freer than I am; and while I have you, Tonelli, I don'twant a younger lover. Younger? Diana! You are in the flower of youth, and I believe you will never wither. Did that rogue of a Doctor, then, really give you the elixir of youth for writing him those letters? Tellme, Tonelli, as a true friend, how long have you been forty-seven? Eversince your fiftieth birthday? Listen! I have been more afraid of losingyou than my sweetest Doctor. I thought you would be so much in love withlovemaking that you would go break-neck and court some one in earnest onyour own account!"

Thus the Paronsina made a jest of the loss she had sustained; but it wasnot pleasant to her, except as it dissolved a tie which love had donenothing to form. Her life seemed colder and vaguer after it, and thehour very far away when the handsome officers of her king (all goodVenetians in those days called Victor Emanuel "our king") should come todrive out the Austrians, and marry their victims. She scarcely enjoyedthe prodigious privilege, offered her at this time in consideration ofher bereavement, of going to the comedy, under Tonelli's protection andalong with Pennellini and his sister, while the poor signora afterwardshad real qualms of patriotism concerning the breach of public dutyinvolved in this distraction of her daughter. She hoped that no one hadrecognized her at the theatre, otherwise they might have a warning fromthe Venetian Committee. "Thou knowest, " she said to the Paronsina, "thatthey have even admonished the old Conte Tradonico, who loves the comedybetter than his soul, and who used to go every evening. Thy aunt toldme, and that the old rogue, when people ask him why he doesn't go to theplay, answers, 'My mistress won't let me. ' But fie! I am saying whatyoung girls ought not to hear. "

After the affair with the Doctor, I say, life refused to return exactlyto its old expression, and I suppose that, if what presently happenedwas ever to happen, it could not have occurred at a more appropriatetime for a disaster, or at a time when its victims were less able tobear it I do not know whether I have yet sufficiently indicated thefact, but the truth is both the Paronsina and her mother had from longuse come to regard Tonelli as a kind of property of theirs, which hadno right in any way to alienate itself. They would have felt an attemptof this sort to be not only very absurd, but very wicked, in view oftheir affection for him and dependence upon him; and while the Paronsinathanked God that he would never marry, she had a deep conviction that heought not to marry, even if he desired. It was at the same timeperfectly natural, nay, filial, that she should herself be ready todesert this old friend, whom she felt so strictly bound to be faithfulto her loneliness. As matters fell out, she had herself primarily toblame for Tonelli's loss; for, in that interval of disgust and ennuifollowing the Doctor's dismissal, she had suffered him to seek his ownpleasure on holiday evenings; and he had thus wandered alone to thePiazza, and so, one night, had seen a lady eating an ice there, andfallen in love without more ado than another man should drink alemonade. 

This facility came of habit, for Tonelli had now been falling in loveevery other day for some forty years; and in that time had broken thehearts of innumerable women of all nations and classes. The prettiestwater-carriers in his neighborhood were in love with him, as theirmothers had been before them, and ladies of noble condition werebelieved to cherish passions for him. Especially, gay and beautifulforeigners, as they sat at Florian's, were taken with hopeless love ofhim; and he could tell stories of very romantic adventure in which hefigured as hero, though nearly always with moral effect. For example, there was the countess from the mainland, --she merited the saddistinction of being chief among those who had vainly loved him, if youcould believe the poet who both inspired and sang her passion. When shetook a palace in Venice, he had been summoned to her on the pretendedbusiness of a secretary; but when she presented herself with those idleaccounts of her factor and tenants on the mainland, her householdexpenses and her correspondence with her advocate, Tonelli perceived atonce that it was upon a wholly different affair that she had desired tosee him. She was a rich widow of forty, of a beauty supernaturallypreserved and very great. "This is no place for thee, Tonelli mine, " thesecretary had said to himself, after a week had passed, and he hadunderstood all the waywardness of that unhappy lady's intentions. "Thouart not too old, but thou art too wise, for these follies, though nosaint"; and so had gathered up his personal effects, and secretlyquitted the palace. But such was the countess's fury at his escape thatshe never paid him his week's salary; nor did she manifest the leastgratitude that Tonelli, out of regard for her son, a very honest youngman, refused in any way to identify her, but, to all except his closestfriends, pretended that he had passed those terrible eight days on avisit to the country village where he was born. It showed Pennellini'signorance of life that he should laugh at this history; and I prefer totreat it seriously, and to use it in explaining the precipitation withwhich Tonelli's latest inamorata returned his love. 

Though, indeed, why should a lady of thirty, and from an obscure countrytown, hesitate to be enamored of any eligible suitor who presentedhimself in Venice? It is not my duty to enter upon a detail or summaryof Carlotta's character or condition, or to do more than indicate that, while she did not greatly excel in youth, good looks, or worldly gear, she had yet a little property, and was of that soft prettiness which isoften more effective than downright beauty. There was, indeed, somethingvery charming about her; and, if she was a blonde, I have no reason tothink she was as fickle as the Venetian proverb paints that complexionof woman; or that she had not every quality which would have excused anyone but Tonelli for thinking of marrying her. 

After their first mute interview in the Piazza, the two lost no time inmaking each other's acquaintance; but though the affair was vigorouslyconducted, no one could say that it was not perfectly in order. Tonellion the following day, which chanced to be Sunday, repaired to St. Mark'sat the hour of the fashionable mass, where he gazed steadfastly at thelady during her orisons, and whence, at a discreet distance, he followedher home to the house of the friends whom she was visiting. Somewhat tohis discomfiture at first, these proved to be old acquaintances of his;and when he came at night to walk up and down under their balconies, asbound in true love to do, they made nothing of asking him indoors, andpresenting him to his lady. But the pair were not to be entirely balkedof their romance, and they still arranged stolen interviews at church, where one furtively whispered word had the value of whole hours ofunrestricted converse under the roof of their friends. They quiterefused to take advantage of their anomalously easy relations, beyondinquiry on his part as to the amount of the lady's dower, and on hers asto the permanence of Tonelli's employment. He in due form had Pennellinito his confidant, and Carlotta unbosomed herself to her hostess; and theaffair was thus conducted with such secrecy that not more than twothirds of Tonelli's acquaintance knew anything about it when theirengagement was announced. 

There were now no circumstances to prevent their early union, yet thehappy conclusion was one to which Tonelli urged himself after manysecret and bitter displeasures of spirit. I am persuaded that his lovefor Carlotta must have been most ardent and sincere, for there waseverything in his history and reason against marriage. He could notdisown that he had hitherto led a joyous and careless life, or that hewas exactly fitted for the modest delights, the discreet variety, of hispresent state, --for his daily routine at the notary's, his dinner at theBronze Horses or the cook-shop, his hour at the caffè, his walks andexcursions, for his holiday banquet with the Cenarotti, and his formalpromenade with the ladies of that family upon the Molo. He had a goodemployment, with a salary that held him above want, and afforded him thesmall luxuries already named; and he had fixed habits of work and ofrelaxation, which made both a blessing. He had his chosen circle ofintimate equals, who regarded him for his good-heartedness and wit andfoibles; and his little following of humble admirers, who looked uponhim as a gifted man in disgrace with fortune. His friendships were asold as they were secure and cordial; he was established in thekindliness of all who knew him; and he was flattered by the dependenceof the Paronsina and her mother, even when it was troublesome to him. He had his past of sentiment and war, his present of story-telling andromance. He was quite independent: his sins, if he had any, began andended in himself, for none was united to him so closely as to be hurt bythem; and he was far too imprudent a man to be taken for an example byany one. He came and went as he listed, he did this or that withoutquestion. With no heart chosen yet from the world of woman's love, hewas still a young man, with hopes and affections as pliable as a boy's. He had, in a word, that reputation of good-fellow which in Venice givesa man the title of _buon diavolo_, but on which he does not anywhereturn his back with impunity, either from his own consciousness or frompublic opinion. There never was such a thing in the world as both gooddevil and good husband; and even with his betrothal Tonelli felt thathis old, careless, merry life of the hour ended, and that he had tacitlyrecognized a future while he was yet unable to cut the past. If one hasfor twenty years made a jest of women, however amiably and insincerely, one does not propose to marry a woman without making a jest of one'sself. The avenging remembrance of elderly people whose late matrimonyhad furnished food for Tonelli's wit now rose up to torment him, and inhis morbid fancy the merriment he had caused was echoed back in his ownderision. 

It shocked him to find how quickly his secret took wing, and it annoyedhim that all his acquaintances were so prompt to felicitate him. Heimagined a latent mockery in their speeches, and he took them with anargumentative solemnity. He reasoned separately with his friends; to allwho spoke to him of his marriage he presented elaborate proofs that itwas the wisest thing he could possibly do, and tried to give the affaira cold air of prudence. "You see, I am getting old; that is to say, I amtired of this bachelor life in which I have no one to take care of me, if I fall sick, and to watch that the doctors do not put me to death. Mypay is very little, but, with Carlotta's dower well invested, we shallboth together live better than either of us lives alone. She is acareful woman, and will keep me neat and comfortable. She is not soyoung as some women I had thought to marry, --no, but so much the better;nobody will think her half so charming as I do, and at my time of lifethat is a great point gained. She is good, and has an admirabledisposition. She is not spoiled by Venice, but as innocent as a dove. O, I shall find myself very well with her!"

This was the speech which with slight modification Tonelli made overand over again to all his friends but Pennellini. To him he unmasked, and said boldly that at last he was really in love; and being gentlydiscouraged in what seemed his folly, and incredulously laughed at, hegrew angry, and gave such proofs of his sincerity that Pennellini wasconvinced, and owned to himself, "This madman is actuallyenamored, --enamored, --like a cat! Patience! What will ever thoseCenarotti say?"

In a little while poor Tonelli lost the philosophic mind with which hehad at first received the congratulations of his friends, and, fromreasoning with them, fell to resenting their good wishes. Very littlethings irritated him, and pleasantries which he had taken in excellentpart, time out of mind, now raised his anger. His barber had for manyyears been in the habit of saying, as he applied the stick of fixatureto Tonelli's mustache, and gave it a jaunty upward curl, "Now we willbestow that little dash of youthfulness"; and it both amazed and hurthim to have Tonelli respond with a fierce "Tsit!" and say that this jestwas proper in its antiquity to the times of Romulus rather than our ownperiod, and so go out of the shop without that "Adieu, old fellow, "which he had never failed to give in twenty years. "Capperi!" said thebarber, when he emerged from a profound revery into which this outbreakhad plunged him, and in which he had remained holding the nose of hisnext customer, and tweaking it to and fro in the violence of hisemotions, regardless of those mumbled maledictions which the latherwould not permit the victim to articulate. "If Tonelli is so savage inhis betrothal, we must wait for his marriage to tame him. I am sorry. Hewas always such a good devil. "

But if many things annoyed Tonelli, there were some that deeply woundedhim, and chiefly the fact that his betrothal seemed to have fixed animpassable gulf of years between him and all those young men whosecompany he loved so well. He had really a boy's heart, and he hadconsorted with them because he felt himself nearer their age than hisown. Hitherto they had in no wise found his presence a restraint. Theyhad always laughed, and told their loves, and spoken their young men'sthoughts, and made their young men's jokes, without fear or shame, before the merry-hearted sage, who never offered good advice, if indeedhe ever dreamed that there was a wiser philosophy than theirs. It hadbeen as if he were the youngest among them; but now, in spite of allthat he or they could do, he seemed suddenly and irretrievably aged. They looked at him strangely, as if for the first time they saw thathis mustache was gray, that his brow was not smooth like theirs, thatthere were crow's-feet at the corners of his kindly eyes. They could notphrase the vague feeling that haunted their hearts, or they would havesaid that Tonelli, in offering to marry, had voluntarily turned his backupon his youth; that love, which would only have brought a richer bloomto their age, had breathed away forever the autumnal blossom of his. 

Something of this made itself felt in Tonelli's own consciousness, whenever he met them, and he soon grew to avoid these comrades of hisyouth. It was therefore after a purely accidental encounter with one ofthem, and as he was passing into the Campo Sant' Angelo, head down, andsupporting himself with an inexplicable sense of infirmity upon the canehe was wont so jauntily to flourish, that he heard himself addressedwith, "I say, master!" He looked up, and beheld the fat madman whopatrols that campo, and who has the license of his affliction to utterinsolences to whomsoever he will, leaning against the door of atobacconist's shop, with his arms folded, and a lazy, mischievous smileloitering down on his greasy face. As he caught Tonelli's eye he nodded, "Eh! I have heard, master"; while the idlers of that neighborhood, whorelished and repeated his incoherent pleasantries like the _mots_ ofsome great diner-out, gathered near with expectant grins. Had Tonellibeen altogether himself, as in other days, he would have been far toowise to answer, "What hast thou heard, poor animal?"

"That you are going to take a mate when most birds think of flyingaway, " said the madman. "Because it has been summer a long time withyou, master, you think it will never be winter. Look out: the wolfdoesn't eat the season. "

The poor fool in these words seemed to utter a public voice ofdisapprobation and derision; and as the pitiless bystanders, who hadmany a time laughed with Tonelli, now laughed at him, joining in theapplause which the madman himself led off, the miserable good devilwalked away with a shiver, as if the weather had actually turned cold. It was not till he found himself in Carlotta's presence that the longsummer appeared to return to him. Indeed, in her tenderness and his reallove for her he won back all his youth again; and he found it of a truerand sweeter quality than he had known even when his years were few, while the gay old-bachelor life he had long led seemed to him a periodof miserable loneliness and decrepitude. Mirrored in her fond eyes, hesaw himself alert and handsome; and, since for the time being they wereto each other all the world, we may be sure there was nothing in theworld then to vex or shame Tonelli. The promises of the future, too, seemed not improbable of fulfilment, for they were not extravagantpromises. These people's castle in the air was a house furnished fromCarlotta's modest portion, and situated in a quarter of the city not toofar from the Piazza, and convenient to a decent caffè, from which theycould order a lemonade or a cup of coffee for visitors. Tonelli'sstipend was to pay the housekeeping, as well as the minute wage of aservant-girl from the country; and it was believed that they could saveenough from that, and a little of Carlotta's money at interest, to gosometimes to the Malibran theatre or the Marionette, or even make anexcursion to the mainland upon a holiday; but if they could not, it wascertainly better Italianism to stay at home; and at least they couldalways walk to the Public Gardens. At one time, religious differencesthreatened to cloud this blissful vision of the future; but it wasfinally agreed that Carlotta should go to mass and confession as oftenas she liked, and should not tease Tonelli about his soul; while he, onhis part, was not to speak ill of the pope except as a temporal prince, or of any of the priesthood except of the Jesuits when in company, inorder to show that marriage had not made him a _codino_. For the likereason, no change was to be made in his custom of praising Garibaldi andreviling the accursed Germans upon all safe occasions. 

As Tonelli had nothing in the world but his salary and his slenderwardrobe, Carlotta eagerly accepted the idea of a loss of familyproperty during the revolution. Of Tonelli's scar she was as proud asTonelli himself. 

When she came to speak of the acquaintance of all those young men, itseemed again like a breath from the north to her betrothed; and heanswered, with a sigh, that this was an affair that had already finisheditself. "I have long thought them too boyish for me, " he said, "and Ishall keep none of them but Pennellini, who is even older than I, --who, I believe, was never born, but created middle-aged out of the dust ofthe earth, like Adam. He is not a good devil, but he has every goodquality. "

While he thus praised his friend, Tonelli was meditating a service, which when he asked it of Pennellini, had almost the effect to destroytheir ancient amity. This was no less than the composition of thosewedding-verses, without which, printed and exposed to view in all theshop-windows, no one in Venice feels himself adequately and trulymarried. Pennellini had never willingly made a verse in his life; andit was long before he understood Tonelli, when he urged the delicaterequest. Then in vain he protested, recalcitrated. It was all an offenceto Tonelli's morbid soul, already irritated by his friend's obtuseness, and eager to turn even the reluctance of nature into insult. He took hisrefusal for a sign that he, too, deserted him; and must be called back, after bidding Pennellini adieu, to hear the only condition on which theaccursed sonnet would be furnished, namely, that it should not be signedPennellini, but An Affectionate Friend. Never was sonnet cost poet sogreat anguish as this: Pennellini went at it conscientiously as if itwere a problem in mathematics; he refreshed his prosody, he turned overCarrer, he toiled a whole night, and in due time appeared as Tonelli'saffectionate friend in all the butchers' and bakers' windows. But it hadbeen too much to ask of him, and for a while he felt the shock ofTonelli's unreason and excess so much that there was a decided coolnessbetween them. 

This important particular arranged, little remained for Tonelli to dobut to come to that open understanding with the Paronsina and her motherwhich he had long dreaded and avoided. He could not conceal from himselfthat his marriage was a kind of desertion of the two dear friends sodependent upon his singleness, and he considered the case of theParonsina with a real remorse. If his meditated act sometimes appearedto him a gross inconsistency and a satire upon all his former life, hehad still consoled himself with the truth of his passion, and had foundlove its own apology and comfort; but in its relation to these lonelywomen, his love itself had no fairer aspect than that of treason, and heshrank from owning it before them with a sense of guilt. Some wilddreams of reconciling his future with his past occasionally haunted him;but in his saner moments, he perceived their folly. Carlotta, he knew, was good and patient, but she was nevertheless a woman, and she wouldnever consent that he should be to the Cenarotti all that he had been;these ladies also were very kind and reasonable, but they too werewomen, and incapable of accepting a less perfect devotion. Indeed, wasnot his proposed marriage too much like taking her only son from thesignora and giving the Paronsina a stepmother? It was worse, and so theladies of the notary's family viewed it, cherishing a resentment thatgrew with Tonelli's delay to deal frankly with them; while Carlotta, onher part, was wounded that these old friends should ignore his futurewife so utterly. On both sides evil was stored up. 

When Tonelli would still make a show of fidelity to the Paronsina andher mother, they accepted his awkward advances, the latter with a coldvisage, the former with a sarcastic face and tongue. He had managedparticularly ill with the Paronsina, who, having no romance of her own, would possibly have come to enjoy the autumnal poetry of his love if hehad permitted. But when she first approached him on the subject of thoserumors she had heard, and treated them with a natural derision, asinvolving the most absurd and preposterous ideas, he, instead ofsuffering her jests, and then turning her interest to his favor, resented them, and closed his heart and its secret against her. Whatcould she do, thereafter, but feign to avoid the subject, and adroitlytouch it with constant, invisible stings? Alas! it did not need that sheshould ever speak to Tonelli with the wicked intent she did; at thistime he would have taken ill whatever most innocent thing she said. Whenfriends are to be estranged, they do not require a cause. They have butto doubt one another, and no forced forbearance or kindness between themcan do aught but confirm their alienation. This is on the wholefortunate, for in this manner neither feels to blame for the brokenfriendship, and each can declare with perfect truth that he did all hecould to maintain it. Tonelli said to himself, "If the Paronsina hadtreated the affair properly at first!" and the Paronsina thought, "If hehad told me frankly about it to begin with!" Both had a latent heartacheover their trouble, and both a sense of loss the more bitter because itwas of loss still unacknowledged. 

As the day fixed for Tonelli's wedding drew near, the rumor of it cameto the Cenarotti from all their acquaintance. But when people spoke tothem of it, as of something they must be fully and particularly informedof, the signora answered coldly, "It seems that we have not meritedTonelli's confidence"; and the Paronsina received the gossip with an airof clearly affected surprise, and a "_Davvero!_" that at leastdiscomfited the tale-bearers. 

The consciousness of the unworthy part he was acting toward these ladieshad come at last to poison the pleasure of Tonelli's wooing, even inCarlotta's presence; yet I suppose he would still have let hiswedding-day come and go, and been married beyond hope of atonement, soloath was he to inflict upon himself and them the pain of anexplanation, if one day, within a week of that time, the notary had notbade his clerk dine with him on the morrow. It was a holiday, and asCarlotta was at home, making ready for the marriage, Tonelli consentedto take his place at the table from which he had been a long timeabsent. But it turned out such a frigid and melancholy banquet as neverwas known before. The old notary, to whom all things came dimly, finallymissed the accustomed warmth of Tonelli's fun, and said, with a littleshiver, "Why, what ails you, Tonelli? You are as moody as a man inlove. "

The notary had been told several times of Tonelli's affair, but it washis characteristic not to remember any gossip later than that of'Forty-eight. 

The Paronsina burst into a laugh full of the cruelty and insult of awoman's long-smothered sense of injury. "Caro nonno, " she screamed intoher grandfather's dull ear, "he is really in despair how to support hishappiness. He is shy, even of his old friends, --he has had so littleexperience. It is the first love of a young man. Bisogna compatire lagioventù, caro nonno. " And her tongue being finally loosed, theParonsina broke into incoherent mockeries, that hurt more from theirpurpose than their point, and gave no one greater pain than herself. 

Tonelli sat sad and perfectly mute under the infliction, but he said inhis heart, "I have merited worse. "

At first the signora remained quite aghast; but when she collectedherself, she called out peremptorily, "Madamigella, you push the affaira little beyond. Cease!"

The Paronsina, having said all she desired, ceased, panting. 

The old notary, for whose slow sense all but her first words had beentoo quick, though all had been spoken at him, said dryly, turning toTonelli, "I imagine that my deafness is not always a misfortune. "

It was by an inexplicable, but hardly less inevitable, violence to theinclinations of each that, after this miserable dinner, the signora, theParonsina, and Tonelli should go forth together for their wontedpromenade on the Molo. Use, which is the second, is also very often thestronger nature, and so these parted friends made a last show of unionand harmony. In nothing had their amity been more fatally broken than inthis careful homage to its forms; and now, as they walked up and down inthe moonlight, they were of the saddest kind of apparitions, --not meredisembodied spirits, which, however, are bad enough, but disanimatedbodies, which are far worse, and of which people are not more afraidonly because they go about in society so commonly. As on many and manyanother night of summers past, the moon came up and stood over the Lido, striking far across the glittering lagoon, and everywhere winning theflattered eye to the dark masses of shadow upon the water; to the treesof the Gardens, to the trees and towers and domes of the cloistered andtempled isles. Scene of pensive and incomparable loveliness! giving evento the stranger, in some faint and most unequal fashion, a sense of theawful meaning of exile to the Venetian, who in all other lands in theworld is doubly an alien, from their unutterable unlikeness to his soleand beautiful city. The prospect had that pathetic unreality to thefriends which natural things always assume to people playing a part, andI imagine that they saw it not more substantial than it appears to theexile in his dreams. In their promenade they met again and again theunknown, wonted faces; they even encountered some acquaintances, whomthey greeted, and with whom they chatted for a while; and when at ninethe bronze giants beat the hour upon their bell, --with as remote effectas if they were giants of the times before the flood, --they were awareof Pennellini, promptly appearing like an exact and methodical spectre. 

But to-night the Paronsina, who had made the scene no compliments, didnot insist as usual upon the ice at Florian's; and Pennellini took hisformal leave of the friends under the arch of the Clock Tower, and theywalked silently homeward through the echoing Merceria. 

At the notary's gate Tonelli would have said good-night, but the signoramade him enter with them, and then abruptly left him standing with theParonsina in the gallery, while she was heard hurrying away to her ownapartment. She reappeared, extending toward Tonelli both hands, uponwhich glittered and glittered manifold skeins of the delicate chain ofVenice. 

She had a very stately and impressive bearing, as she stood there in themoonlight, and addressed him with a collected voice. "Tonelli, " shesaid, "I think you have treated your oldest and best friends verycruelly. Was it not enough that you should take yourself from us, butyou must also forbid our hearts to follow you even in sympathy and goodwishes? I had almost thought to say adieu forever to-night; but, " shecontinued, with a breaking utterance, and passing tenderly to thefamiliar form of address, "I cannot part so with thee. Thou hast beentoo like a son to me, too like a brother to my poor Clarice. Maybe thouno longer lovest us, yet I think thou wilt not disdain this gift for thywife. Take it, Tonelli, if not for our sake, perhaps then for the sakeof sorrows that in times past we have shared together in this unhappyVenice. "

Here the signora ended perforce the speech, which had been long forher, and the Paronsina burst into a passion of weeping, --not more at hermamma's words than out of self-pity and from the national sensibility. 

Tonelli took the chain, and reverently kissed it and the hands that gaveit. He had a helpless sense of the injustice the signora's words and theParonsina's tears did him; he knew that they put him with feminineexcess further in the wrong than even his own weakness had; but he triedto express nothing of this, --it was but part of the miserable maze inwhich his life was involved. With what courage he might he owned hiserror, but protested his faithful friendship, and poured out all histroubles, --his love for Carlotta, his regret for them, his shame andremorse for himself. They forgave him, and there was everything in theirwords and will to restore their old friendship, and keep it; and whenthe gate with a loud clang closed upon Tonelli, going from them, theyall felt that it had irrevocably perished. 

I do not say that there was not always a decent and affectionate bearingon the part of the Paronsina and her mother towards Tonelli and hiswife; I acknowledge that it was but too careful and faultless atenderness, ever conscious of its own fragility. Far more natural wasthe satisfaction they took in the delayed fruitfulness of Tonelli'smarriage, and then in the fact that his child was a girl, and not a boy. It was but human that they should doubt his happiness, and that thesignora should always say, when hard pressed with questions upon thematter: "Yes, Tonelli is married; but if it were to do again, I think hewould do it to-morrow rather than to-day. "

THE END.