ested," she continued in a low voice, "that if but to see you at
a distance, and at rare intervals, could almost compensate for my life
of misery, what bliss would be mine were I living under the roof of your
own castle, liable to see you any hour of the day; hence you find me
numbered amongst your wife's waiting-maids. And blame me not, Giovanni,"
she hastily concluded, seeing him about to interrupt her; "you are the
cause of all, for you sought and gained my love; and such love! I think
none can have ever known such. And yet I must suppress this love. The
fiercest jealousy of the Lady Adelaide rages in my heart--and yet I must
suppress it! Giovanni, you have brought this anguish upon me; so blame
me not."

"It is a dangerous proceeding, Gina. I was becoming reconciled to our
separation; but now--it will be dangerous for both of us."

"Ay," she answered, bitterly, "you had all. Friends, revelry, a wife of
rare beauty, the chase, the bustle of an immense household--in short,
what had you not to aid your mental struggles? I but my home of
solitude, and the jealous pictures, self, but ever inflicted, of your
happiness with the Lady Adelaide."

"I still love but you, Gina," he repeated, "but I will be honorable to
_her_, and must show it not."

"Do I ask you to show it? or think you I would permit it?" she replied
quickly; "no, no; I did not come here to sow discord in your household.
Suffer me to live on unnoticed as of these last few days, but, oh! drive
me not away from you."

"Believe me, Gina, this will never do. I mistrust my own powers of
endurance; ay, and of concealment."

"You can think of me but as the waiting-maid of your lady," she
interrupted, in a tone of bitterness. "In time you will really regard me
as such."

"There would be another obstacle, Gina," he returned, sinking his voice
to a lower tone, as if fearful even to mention the subject--"how can you
live in my household, and not conform to the usages of our faith? You
know that yours must never be suspected."

"Trust to me to manage all," she reiterated; "but send me not away from
you."

"Be it so, Gina," he observed, after reflection; "you deserve more
sacrifice on my part than this. But all confidence must cease between
us: from this time we are to each other as strangers."

"Even so," she acquiesced. "Yet if you deem my enduring affection
deserves requital, give me at times a look as of old; a smile,
unperceived by others, but acknowledg