ervant, formerly her nurse, who never left
her. Teresa, this servant, was cautiously approached. She was informed
that Count Nobili was distractedly in love with the signorina, and
addressed himself to her for help. Teresa, ignorant, well-meaning,
and brimming over with that mere animal fondness for her foster-child
uneducated women share with brute creatures, was proud of becoming the
medium of what she considered an advantageous marriage for Enrica. The
secluded life she led, the selfish indifference with which her aunt
treated her, had long moved Teresa's passionate southern nature to a
high pitch of indignation. Up to this time no man had been permitted
to enter Casa Guinigi, save those who formed the marchesa's
whist-party.

"How, then," reasoned Teresa, shrewdly, "was the signorina to marry at
all? Surely it was right to help her to a husband. Here was one, rich,
handsome, and devoted, one who would give the eyes out of his head for
the signorina." Was such an opportunity to be lost? Certainly not.

So Teresa took Nobili's bribes (bribes are as common in Italy as in
the East), putting them to fructify in the National Bank with an easy
conscience. Was she not emancipating her foster-child from that old
devil, her aunt? Had she not seen Nobili himself when he sent for
her?--seen him, face to face, inside his palace glittering like
paradise? And had he not given her his word, with his hand upon his
heart (also given her a pair of solid gold ear-rings, which she wore
on Sundays), that to marry Enrica was the one hope of his life? Seeing
all this, Teresa was, as I have said, perfectly satisfied.

When Nobili had done all this, impelled by mixed feelings of wounded
pride, obstinacy, and defiance, he had never, let it be noted, seen
Enrica. But after a meeting had been arranged by Teresa one morning at
early mass in the cathedral, near a dark and unfrequented altar in the
transept--an arrangement, be it observed, unknown to Enrica--all his
feelings changed. From the moment he saw her he loved her with all
the fervor of his ardent nature; from that moment he knew that he had
never loved before. The mystery of their stolen meetings, the sweet
flavor of this forbidden fruit--and what man does not love forbidden
fruit better than labeled pleasures?--the innocent frankness with
which Enrica confessed her love, her unbounded faith in him--all
served to heighten his passion. He gloried--he reveled in her
confidence. Never, n