ic pleasure
in studying them, and choosing the moment when he should leap the
parapet and be lost in them. The incident could not be used in any novel
of his, and no one else could do such perfect justice to the situation,
but perhaps afterwards, when the facts leading to his death should be
known through the remorse of the lovers whom he had sought to serve,
some other artist-nature could distil their subtlest meaning in a memoir
delicate as the aroma of a faded flower.

He was willing to make this sacrifice, too, and he stepped back a pace
from the parapet when the fitful blast caught his hat from his head, and
whirled it along the bridge. The whole current of his purpose changed,
and as if it had been impossible to drown himself in his bare head, he
set out in chase of his hat, which rolled and gamboled away, and escaped
from his clutch whenever he stooped for it, till a final whiff of wind
flung it up and tossed it over the bridge into the river, where he
helplessly watched it floating down the flood, till it was carried out
of sight.

XXV.

Gregory did not sleep, and he did not find peace in the prayers he put
up for guidance. He tried to think of some one with whom he might take
counsel; but he knew no one in Florence except the parents of his pupil,
and they were impossible. He felt himself abandoned to the impulse which
he dreaded, in going to Clementina, and he went without hope, willing
to suffer whatever penalty she should visit upon him, after he had
disavowed Belsky's action, and claimed the responsibility for it.

He was prepared for her refusal to see him; he had imagined her wounded
and pathetic; he had fancied her insulted and indignant; but she met him
eagerly and with a mystifying appeal in her welcome. He began at once,
without attempting to bridge the time since they had met with any
formalities.

"I have come to speak to you about--that--Russian, about Baron Belsky--"

"Yes, yes!" she returned, anxiously. "Then you have hea'd"

"He came to me last night, and--I want to say that I feel myself to
blame for what he has done."

"You?"

"Yes; I. I never spoke of you by name to him; I didn't dream of his ever
seeing you, or that he would dare to speak to you of what I told him.
But I believe he meant no wrong; and it was I who did the harm, whether
I authorized it or not."

"Yes, yes!" she returned, with the effect of putting his words aside as
something of no moment. "Have they head a