-how Orsetti
had whispered "Bravo!" in his ear. Might not some rumor of all this
reach Enrica?--through Trenta, perhaps, or that chattering fool,
Baldassare? If they spoke of the accident, they would surely connect
his name with that of Nera. Would they say he was in love with her? He
grew cold as he thought of it.

Neither could Nobili conceal from himself how probable it was that
the Marchesa Guinigi should come to some knowledge of his clandestine
interviews with her niece. It had been necessary to trust many
persons. Spite of heavy bribes, one of these might at any moment
betray them. He might be followed and watched, spite of his
precautions. Their letters might be intercepted. Should any thing
happen, what a situation for Enrica! She was too trusting and too
inexperienced fully to appreciate the danger; but Nobili understood
it, and trembled for her. Something must, he felt, be done at once.
Enrica must be prepared for any thing that might happen. He must write
to her--write this very night to her.

And then came the question--what should he say to her? Then Nobili
felt, and felt keenly, how much he had compromised himself. Hitherto
his love for Enrica, and Enrica's love for him, had been so full, so
entire, that every thought was hers. Now there was a name he must hide
from her, an hour of his life she must never know.

Nobili rose from the divan on which he had been lying, lighted some
candles, and, sitting down at a table, took a pen in his hand. But the
pen did not help him. He tore it between his teeth, he leaned his head
upon his hand, he stared at the blank paper before him. What should
he say to her? was the question he asked himself. After all, should
he confess all his weakness, and implore her forgiveness? or should he
take the chance of her hearing nothing?

After much thought and many struggles with his pen, he decided he
would say nothing. But write he would; write he must. Full of remorse
for what had passed, he longed to assure her of his love. He yearned
to cast himself for pardon at her feet; to feast his eyes upon the
sweetness of her fair face; to fill his ears with the sound of her
soft voice; to watch her heavenly eyes gathering upon him with the
gleam of incipient passion.

How pure she was! How peerless, how different from all other women!
How different from Nera! dark-eyed, flashing, tempting Nera!--Nera, so
sensual in her ripe and dazzling beauty. At that moment of remorse and
repe