red a little sound that was
more than a sigh and less than a groan.

"There are remedies for almost every kind of pain," said Marietta
wisely, as she threaded several beads.

"Give me one for mine," he cried almost bitterly. "Bid that which is to
cease from being, and that to be which is not earthly possible! Turn the
world back, and undo truth, and make it all a dream! Then I shall find
the remedy and forget that it was needed."

"There are magicians who pretend to do such things," she answered
softly.

"I would there were!" he sighed.

"But those who come to them for help tell all, else the magician has no
power. Would you call a physician, if you were ill, and tell him that
the pain you felt was in your head, if it was really--in your heart?"

She had paused an instant before speaking the last words, and they came
with a little effort.

"How could the physician cure you, if you would not tell him the truth?"
she asked, as he said nothing. "How can the wizard work miracles for
you, unless he knows what miracle you ask? How can your best friend help
you if--if she does not know what help you need?"

Still he was silent, leaning against the tree, with bent head. The pain
was growing worse, and harder to bear. She spoke so softly and kindly
that it would have been easy to tell her the truth, he thought, for
though she could never love him, she would understand, and would forgive
him. He had not dreamed that friendship could be so kind.

"Am I right?" she asked, after a pause.

"Yes," he answered. "When I cannot bear it any longer, I will tell you,
and you will help me."

"Why not now?"

The little question might have been ruinous to all his resolution, if
Zorzi had not been almost like a child in his simplicity--or like a
saint in his determination to be loyal. For he thought it loyalty to be
silent, not only for the sake of the promise he had given in return for
his life, but in respect of his master also, who put such great trust in
him.

"Pray do not press me with the question," he said. "You tempt me very
much, and I do not wish to speak of what I feel. Be my friend in real
truth, if you can, and do not ask me to say what I shall ever after wish
unsaid. That will be the best friendship."

Marietta looked across the garden thoughtfully, and suddenly a chilling
doubt fell upon her heart. She could not have been mistaken yesterday,
she could not be deceived in him now; and yet, if he loved her as she