Another blunder, common of its kind to me. Have I not told you that I
am always making missteps such as have no retracing?"

"Will you answer a single question?"

She stroked the roses.

"Will you?"

"I can make no promise. Rather ask the question. If I see the wisdom of
answering it, I shall do so."

"Is there another man?" He did not look at her but rather at her fingers
embedded in the roses. Silence, which grew and lengthened.

"What do you mean?" she asked evenly, when she realized that the silence
was becoming too long.

"In Venice you told me that there was a barrier. I ask now if this
barrier be a man."

"Yes."

A wrinkle of pain passed over his heart. "If you love him--"

"Love him? No, no!... I had hoped you would not speak like this; I
relied upon your honor."

"Is it dishonorable for me to love you?"

"No, but it is for me--to permit you to say so!"

He could hear the birds twittering in the boughs of the oak. A lizard
paused on the damp stone near-by. A bee hovered over the roses, twirled
a leaf impatiently, and buzzed its flight over the old wall. He was
conscious of recognizing these sounds and these objects, but with the
consciousness of a man suddenly put down in an unknown country, in an
unknown age, far away from all familiar things.

"I deplore the misfortune which crossed your path and mine again," she
went on relentlessly, as much to herself as to him. "But I am something
of a fatalist. We can not avoid what is to be."

He was pale, but not paler than she.

"I offer you nothing, Mr. Hillard, nothing; no promise, no hope,
nothing. A few days longer, and we shall separate finally."

She was about to rise and ask him to excuse her and retire, when
Merrihew and Kitty came into view. There was nothing now to do but wait.
She sought ease from the tenseness of the moment in sorting the roses.
Hillard stirred the cold dregs in his tea-cup. Cold dregs, indeed! The
light of the world was gone out.

Merrihew's face was as broad and shining as the harvest moon. He came
swinging down the path, Kitty's arm locked in his. And Kitty's face was
rosy. Upon reaching the table Merrihew imitated the bow of an old-time
courtier.

"It is all over," he said, swallowing. "Kitty has promised to marry me
as soon as we land in America. I'm a lucky beggar!"

"Yes, you are," said Hillard. "Congratulations to both of you."

La Signorina took hold of Kitty's hands. This was a much-needed
diversion.