ith him, as he often did, and when they were
within he naturally stopped to question Pasquale about his search, while
Marietta went on to the garden. The porter took a long time to shut the
door, and instead of answering Beroviero, shook his ugly head
discontentedly, and muttered imprecations on all makers of locks,
latches, bolts, bars and other fastenings, living, dead and yet unborn.
So it came to pass that Marietta came upon Zorzi suddenly and alone,
when she least expected to meet him.

He was standing by the well-remembered rose-bush, leaning on his stick
with one hand and lifting up a trailing branch with the other. But when
he heard Marietta's step he let the branch drop again and stood waiting
for her with happy eyes. She uttered a little cry, that was almost of
fear, and stopped short in her walk, for in the first instant she could
have believed that she saw a vision; then she ran forward with
outstretched hands, and fell into his arms as he dropped his stick to
catch her. As her head touched his shoulder, her heart stopped beating
for a moment, she gasped a little, and seemed to choke, and then the
tears of joy flowed from her eyes, her pulses stirred again, and all was
well. He felt a tremor in his hands and could not speak aloud, but as he
held her he bent down and whispered something in her ear; and she smiled
through the shower of her happy tears, though he could not see it, for
her face was hidden.

Just then Beroviero entered from the corridor, followed by Pasquale, and
the two old men stood still together gazing at the young lovers. It was
on that very spot that the master, when going upon his journey, had told
Zorzi how he wished he were his son. But now he forgot that he had said
it, and the angry blood rushed to his forehead.

"How dare you?" he cried, as he made a step to go on towards the pair.

They heard his voice and separated hastily. Marietta's fresh cheek
blushed like red roses, and she looked down, as shamefacedly as any
country maid, but Zorzi turned white as he stooped to pick up his stick,
then stood quite upright and met her father's eyes.

"How dare you, I say?" repeated the old man fiercely.

"I love her, sir," Zorzi answered without fear for himself, but with
much apprehension for Marietta.

"And have you forgotten that I love him, father?" asked Marietta,
looking up but still blushing. "You know, I told you all the truth, and
you were not angry then. At least, you were not so