, in which her mother and Maulear
were. She is reading the mysterious letter, said he to himself. Just
then it chanced that Signora Rovero spoke of Gaetano Brignoli, to whom
she paid the greatest compliments. Aminta returned with an expression
altogether changed. Her face was lit up with joy, as expressive and
animated as the tedium and thoughtfulness which marked it had been
profound. Maulear did not sympathize with her gayety, and she became
every moment more moody and sombre. Under the pretext of a headache, he
retired to his room. New thoughts assailed him. He looked out on the
terrace where he had seen the unknown form. He took the lace veil and
examined it as if he now saw it for the first time. Men are often cruel
to themselves, and find a secret pleasure in turning the knife in the
wound, and making their suffering severe as possible. To tell the truth,
when he thought of his conversation with Aminta, and analyzed its
phases, he was led by its elevation and frankness to blush at his
suspicions. After all, said he, the letter she received from Gaetano is
perhaps only a child's-play between them. It is but a secret between
brother and sister, such as often exists, and to which it is foolish to
attach any importance. Amid this excitement, sleep overtook him,
harassed as he was between hope and fear, good and evil.

The next day was Aminta's birthday. All in Signora Rovero's villa were
joyous. The gates of the garden were opened, and all were gathering
flowers. The young girls of Sorrento soon came to the villa, and offered
a magnificent chaplet of roses to _the White Rose_ of Sorrento. The
Marquis of Maulear added his congratulations to the others offered to
Aminta. An air of embarrassment, however, was evident in every remark,
and he could not forget the letter. Suddenly he saw Tonio. He was
approaching Aminta, who, when she saw him, hurried to meet him.

"Tonio, poor Tonio," said she, "my faithful companion and generous
preserver, have you also come to congratulate me on my birthday? You
have not forgotten me, but are come to say how you love me. You know how
grateful I am."

Two tears fell on the mute's brow which was humbled before her. Tonio
looked up, and his eyes expressed the languishing tenderness of which we
have hitherto spoken. One might read, in his glance, the effect of that
magnetic fascination exercised over him by Aminta. He seized her hand,
and kissed it so passionately that Aminta withdrew it a