persed with orange-trees. This was a favorite walk of mine,
partly on account of its pleasant shade even in the hottest
noon--partly because it was seldom frequented by any member of the
household save myself. Guido occasionally took a turn with me there,
but I was more often alone, and I was fond of pacing up and down in the
shadow of the trees, reading some favorite book, or giving myself up to
the dolcefar niente of my own imaginings. The avenue led round to the
back of the villa, and as I now entered it, I thought I would approach
the house cautiously by this means and get private speech with Assunta,
the nurse who had charge of little Stella, and who was moreover an old
and tried family servant, in whose arms my mother had breathed her last.

The dark trees rustled solemnly as I stepped quickly yet softly along
the familiar moss-grown path. The place was very still--sometimes the
nightingales broke into a bubbling torrent of melody, and then were
suddenly silent, as though overawed by the shadows of the heavy
interlacing boughs, through which the moonlight flickered, casting
strange and fantastic patterns on the ground. A cloud of lucciole broke
from a thicket of laurel, and sparkled in the air like gems loosened
from a queen's crown. Faint odors floated about me, shaken from orange
boughs and trailing branches of white jasmine. I hastened on, my
spirits rising higher the nearer I approached my destination. I was
full of sweet anticipation and passionate longing--I yearned to clasp
my beloved Nina in my arms--to see her lovely lustrous eyes looking
fondly into mine--I was eager to shake Guido by the hand--and as for
Stella, I knew the child would be in bed at that hour, but still, I
thought, I must have her wakened to see me. I felt that my happiness
would not be complete till I had kissed her little cherub face, and
caressed those clustering curls of hers that were like spun gold.
Hush--hush! What was that? I stopped in my rapid progress as though
suddenly checked by an invisible hand. I listened with strained ears.
That sound--was it not a rippling peal of gay sweet laughter? A shiver
shook me from head to foot. It was my wife's laugh--I knew the silvery
chime of it well! My heart sunk coldly--I paused irresolute. She could
laugh then like that, while she thought me lying dead--dead and out of
her reach forever! All at once I perceived the glimmer of a white robe
through the trees; obeying my own impulse, I steppe