look as she answered:

"Well, really, conte, I do not know! For with the remembrance of one
man who teased her, must come also the thought of another who was kind
to her--yourself--she will find it difficult to decide the juste
milieu."

A subtle compliment was meant to be conveyed in these words. I
acknowledged it by a silent gesture of admiration, which she quickly
understood and accepted. Was ever a man in the position of being
delicately flattered by his own wife before? I think not! Generally
married persons are like candid friends--fond of telling each other
very unpleasant truths, and altogether avoiding the least soupcon of
flattery. Though I was not so much flattered as amused--considering the
position of affairs. Just then a servant threw open the door and
announced dinner. I set my child very gently down from my knee and
whisperingly told her that I would come and see her soon again. She
smiled trustfully, and then in obedience to her mother's imperative
gesture, slipped quietly out of the room. As soon as she had gone I
praised her beauty warmly, for she was really a lovely little
thing--but I could see my admiration of her was not very acceptable to
either my wife or her lover. We all went in to dinner--I, as guest,
having the privilege of escorting my fair and spotless spouse! On our
reaching the dining-room Nina said--

"You are such an old friend of the family, conte, that perhaps you will
not mind sitting at the head of the table?"

"Tropp' onore, signora!" I answered, bowing gallantly, as I at once
resumed my rightful place at my own table, Ferrari placing himself on
my right hand, Nina on my left. The butler, my father's servant and
mine, stood as of old behind my chair, and I noticed that each time he
supplied me with wine he eyed me with a certain timid curiosity--but I
knew I had a singular and conspicuous appearance, which easily
accounted for his inquisitiveness. Opposite to where I sat, hung my
father's portrait--the character I personated permitted me to look at
it fixedly and give full vent to the deep sigh which in very earnest
broke from my heart. The eyes of the picture seemed to gaze into mine
with a sorrowful compassion--almost I fancied the firm-set lips
trembled and moved to echo my sigh.

"Is that a good likeness?" Ferrari asked, suddenly.

I started, and recollecting myself, answered: "Excellent! So true a
resemblance that it arouses along train of memories in my
mind--memori