f their marriage, a savage
virtue, and make professions of conjugal fidelity with the most honest
determination. Perhaps, therefore, Elena had been affected by this
common scruple, in which case, nothing would be more ill-advised than to
show his hand too boldly and offend against her new-found virtue. The
better plan would be to second her spiritual aspirations, accept her as
'the fondest of sisters, the truest of friends,' intoxicate her with the
ideal, be skilfully platonic and then make her glide imperceptibly from
frank sisterly relations to a more passionate friendship, and from
thence to the complete surrender of her person. In all probability these
transitions would occur very rapidly. It all depended upon a wise
adjustment of circumstances----

Thus Andrea Sperelli reasoned, sitting in front of the fire which had
glowed upon Elena, laughing among the scattered rose leaves. A boundless
lassitude weighed upon him, a lassitude which did not invite sleep, a
sense of weariness, so empty, so disconsolate as to be almost a longing
for death; while the fire died out on the hearth and the tea grew cold
in the cup.

CHAPTER IV

He waited in vain during the days that followed for the promised note to
tell him when he might see Elena again----So she did intend to make
another appointment with him; the question was--where? At the Casa
Zuccari again? Would she risk such an imprudence a second time? This
uncertainty kept him on the rack. He passed whole hours in searching for
some way of meeting her, of seeing her again. He went several times to
the Hotel Quirinal in the hope of being received, but never once did he
find her at home. One evening, he saw her again in the theatre with
'Mumps,' as she called her husband. Though only saying the usual things
about the music, the singers, the ladies, he infused a supplicating
melancholy into his gaze. She seemed greatly taken up by the arrangement
of their house. They were going back to the Palazzo Barberini, her old
quarters, but were having them much enlarged, and she was for ever
occupied with upholsterers and decorators, giving orders and
superintending the placing of the furniture.

'Are you going to stay long in Rome?' asked Andrea.

'Yes,' she answered--'Rome will be our winter residence.' Then, after a
moment's pause--'You could give us some very good advice about the
furniture. Come to the palace one of these days. I am always there from
ten to twelve.'

He