is friend the great
doctor. They saw that she was not yet any better; the doctor ordered
several things to be done and went away. Kalmon drew Marcello out of the
room.

"You can do nothing," he said. "She has good care, and she is very
strong. Go home and come back in the morning."

"I must stay here," Marcello answered.

"That is out of the question, on account of the Sister of Charity. But
you can send for your things and camp in my rooms downstairs. There is a
good sofa. You can telephone to the villa for what you want."

"Thank you." Marcello's voice dropped and shook. "Will she live?" he
asked.

"I hope so. She is very strong, and it may be only fever."

"What else could it be?"

"Pneumonia."

Marcello bit his lip and closed his eyes as if he were in bodily pain,
and a moment later he turned away and went down to Kalmon's apartment.

The Professor went back to Regina's side, and stood quietly watching
her, with a very sad look in his eyes. She opened hers and saw him, and
she brought one hand to her chest.

"It burns," she said, almost in a whisper, but with a strange sort of
eagerness, as if she were glad.

"I wish I could bear it for you, my poor child," Kalmon answered.

She shook her head, and turned uneasily on the pillow. He did not
understand.

"What is it?" he asked gently. "What can I do for you? Tell me."

"I want to see some one very much. How long shall I live?"

"You will get quite well," said Kalmon, in a reassuring tone. "But you
must be very quiet." Again she moved her burning cheek on the pillow.

"Do you want to see a priest?" asked the Professor, thinking he had
guessed. "Is that it?"

"Yes--there is time for that--some one else--could you? Will you?"

"Yes." Kalmon bent down quickly, for he thought the delirium was coming
again. "Who is it?" he asked.

"Aurora--I mean, the Signorina--can you? Oh, do you think you could?"

"I'll try," Kalmon answered in great surprise.

But now the hoarseness was suddenly gone, and her sweet voice was softly
humming an old song of the hills, forgotten many years, and the
Professor saw that she did not know him any more. He nodded to Teresa,
who was in the room, and went out.

He wondered much at the request, but he remembered that it had been made
in the full belief that he would say nothing of it to Marcello. If she
had been willing that Marcello should know, she would have spoken to
him, rather than to Kalmon. He had seen little enou