hild. He was too
weak to question what was happening to him, but a soft light came into
his eyes, and he unconsciously pressed Marietta's hand.

She blushed at the pressure, without knowing why, and first the maiden
instinct was to draw away her hand, but then she pitied him and let it
stay. She thought, too, that her touch helped to keep him quiet, and
indeed it did.

"How did you know?" he asked at length, for in his half consciousness it
had seemed natural that she should have come to him when she heard that
he was hurt.

"Pasquale called Nella," she answered simply, "and I came too. Is the
pain still very great?"

"It is much less. How can I thank you?"

She looked into his eyes and smiled as he had seen her smile once or
twice before in his life. His memory all came back now. He knew that
she ought not to have been there, since her father was away. His
expression changed suddenly.

"What is the matter?" asked Marietta. "Does it hurt very much?"

"No," he said. "I was thinking--" He checked himself, and glanced at the
porter.

A distant knocking was heard at the outer door, Pasquale shuffled off to
see who was there.

"I will wager that it is the surgeon!" he grumbled. "Evil befall his
soul! We do not want him."

"What were you going to say?" asked Marietta, bending down. "There is
only Nella here now."

"Nella should not have let you come," said Zorzi. "If it is known, your
father will be very angry."

"Ah, do you see?" cried Nella, rising, for she had finished. "Did I not
tell you so, my pretty lady? And if your brother finds out that you have
been here he will go into a fury like a wild beast! I told you so! And
as for your help, indeed, I could have brought another woman, and there
was Pasquale, too. I suppose he has hands. Oh, there will be a beautiful
revolution in the house when this is known!"

But Marietta did not mean to acknowledge that she had done anything but
what was perfectly right and natural under the circumstances; to admit
that would have been to confess that she had not come merely out of pity
and human kindness.

"It is absurd," she said with a little indignation. "I shall tell my
brother myself that Zorzi was hurt, and that I helped you to dress his
wound. And what is more, Nella, you will have to come; again, and I
shall come with you as often as I please. All Murano may know it for
anything I care."

"And Venice too?" asked Nella, shaking her head in disapproval. "What