m--blindly."

"Not blindly--you know all my reasons."

"There is that between you and me which annihilates reason," answered
Giovanni, his voice trembling a little.

"There is that in my position which should command your respect," said
Corona. She feared he was going too far, and yet this time she knew she
had not said too much, and that in bidding him avoid her, she was only
doing what was strictly necessary for her peace. "I am a widow," she
continued, very gravely; "I am a woman, and I am alone. My only
protection lies in the courtesy I have a right to expect from men like
you. You have expressed your sympathy; show it then by cheerfully
fulfilling my request. I do not speak in riddles, but very plainly. You
recall to me a moment of great pain, and your presence, the mere fact of
my receiving you, seems a disloyalty to the memory of my husband. I have
given you no reason to believe that I ever took a greater interest in you
than such as I might take in a friend. I hourly pray that this--this too
great interest you show in me, may pass quickly, and leave you what you
were before. You see I do not speak darkly, and I do not mean to speak
unkindly. Do not answer me, I beseech you, but take this as my last word.
Forget me if you can--"

"I cannot," said Giovanni, deeply moved.

"Try. If you cannot, God help you! but I am sure that if you try
faithfully, you will succeed. And now you must go," she said, in gentler
tones. "You should not have come--I should not have let you see me. But
it is best so. I am grateful for the sympathy you have expressed. I do
not doubt that you will do as I have asked you, and as you have promised.
Good-bye."

Corona rose to her feet, her hands folded before her. Giovanni had no
choice. She let her eyes rest upon him, not unkindly, but she did not
extend her hand. He stood one moment in hesitation, then bowed and left
the room without a word. Corona stood still, and her eyes followed his
retreating figure until at the door he turned once more and bent his head
and then was gone. Then she fell back into her chair and gazed listlessly
at the wall opposite.

"It is done," she said at last. "I hope it is well done and wisely."
Indeed it had been a hard thing to say; but it was better to say it at
once than to regret an ill-timed indulgence when it should be too late.
And yet it had cost her less to send him away definitely than it had
cost her to resist his passionate appeal a month ago.