tep outside.

"I wish I had the _toilette_ I wore at Praglia," she said. "I should
like to appear before him in my green fur-lined cloak, now, in May! I
should like him to see at a glance how unchanged I am, and how much I
wish to remain unchanged! Oh! my God, my God!"

With a sudden impulse she threw her arms about Noemi's neck, and pressed
her face against her shoulder, stifling a sob and murmuring words Noemi
could not distinguish.

"No, no, no!" she cried at last. "I am mad! I am wicked! Let us go away,
let us go away!" She raised her tearful face. "Let us go to Rome!" said
she.

"Yes, yes!" Noemi answered in great agitation, "we will go to Rome. We
will leave at once. Let me go and ask when the next train starts."

Jeanne immediately seized upon her and held her back. No, no, it was
madness. What would her sister say? What would her brother-in-law think?
It was madness, an impossibility! And besides, besides, besides--She hid
her face, whispering behind her hands that she would be satisfied if she
could only see him for one moment; but she could not--no, no--she could
not leave without having seen him.

"Enough!" said she, uncovering her face, after a long pause. "Let us
dress! I will wear whatever you please; sackcloth, if you wish it, or
even haircloth!"

Her face had resumed the aggrieved smile she had worn before.

"Who can tell?" she said. "Perhaps it will do me good to see him in the
dress of a peasant!"

"It would cure _me_ at once!" Noemi muttered; then she blushed, for she
felt she had spoken a great untruth.

When Signora Selva knocked at the door to say the carriage was waiting,
Jeanne, with mock humility, begged Noemi to allow her to wear a certain
large Rembrandt hat of which she was very fond. The black, feather-laden
brim, drooping over her pale face, above the sombre light in her eyes,
above the tall figure wrapped in a dark cloak, seemed to partake of her
feelings, gloomy, passionate, and haughty. When she said good morning
to Maria Selva she felt the admiration she aroused. She saw it in
Giovanni's eyes also, but it was admiration of a different sort, and not
of a sympathetic nature. As soon as she and Noemi had left him and were
on their way down to the gate, where the carriage was waiting, Jeanne
asked her if she really had not told her brother-in-law anything at all?
Upon being reassured she murmured:

"I thought you must have."

When they had proceeded a few paces she pressed he