ure
burned through the glove like fire. I could have cried out in agony, so
excruciating was the mental torture which I endured at that moment. But
it passed, the ordeal was over, and I knew that from henceforth I
should be able to shake hands with him as often and as indifferently as
with any other man. It was only this FIRST time that it galled me to
the quick. Ferrari noticed nothing of my emotion--he was in excellent
spirits, and turning to the waiter, who had lingered to watch us make
each other's acquaintance, he exclaimed:

"More coffee, garcon, and a couple of glorias." Then looking toward me,
"You do not object to a gloria, conte? No? That is well. And here is MY
card," taking one from his pocket and laying it on the table. "Guido
Ferrari, at your service, an artist and a very poor one. We shall
celebrate our meeting by drinking each other's health!"

I bowed. The waiter vanished to execute his orders and Ferrari drew his
chair closer to mine.

"I see you smoke," he said, gayly. "Can I offer you one of my cigars?
They are unusually choice. Permit me," and he proffered roe a richly
embossed and emblazoned silver cigar-case, with the Romani arms and
coronet and MY OWN INITIALS engraved thereon. It was mine, of course--I
took it with a sensation of grim amusement--I had not seen it since the
day I died!

"A fine antique," I remarked, carelessly, turning it over and over in
my hand, "curious and valuable. A gift or an heirloom?"

"It belonged to my late friend, Count Fabio," he answered, puffing a
light cloud of smoke in the air as he drew his cigar from his lips to
speak. "It was found in his pocket by the priest who saw him die. That
and other trifles which he wore on his person were delivered to his
wife, and--"

"She naturally gave YOU the cigar-case as a memento of your friend," I
said, interrupting him.

"Just so. You have guessed it exactly. Thanks," and he took the case
from me as I returned it to him with a frank smile.

"Is the Countess Romani young?" I forced myself to inquire.

"Young and beautiful as a midsummer morning!" replied Ferrari, with
enthusiasm. "I doubt if sunlight ever fell on a more enchanting woman!
If you were a young man, conte, I should be silent regarding her
charms--but your white hairs inspire one with confidence. I assure you
solemnly, though Fabio was my friend, and an excellent fellow in his
ways, he was never worthy of the woman he married!"

"Indeed!" I said, coldl