ighed and looked at her daughter with a sort of
half-comical and loving hopelessness in her eyes--as a faithful dog
might look at his master who, seeming to be hungry, would refuse to
steal food that was within reach. The dog would try to lead the man to
the bread, the man would gently resist; each would be obeying the
dictation of his own conscience--the man would know that he could never
explain his moral position to the dog, and the dog would feel that he
could never understand the man. Yet the affection between the two would
not be in the least diminished.

On the next evening Cecilia found herself next to Guido d'Este at
dinner. Though she was not supposed to make her formal appearance in
society before the garden party, the Countess's many old friends, some
of whom had more or less impecunious sons, were anxious to welcome her
to Rome, and asked her to small dinners with her mother. Guido had
arrived late, and had not been able to speak to her till he was told by
their host that he was to take her in. It was quite natural that he
should, for, in spite of his birth, he was only plain Signor d'Este, and
was not entitled to any sort of precedence in a society which is, if
anything, overcareful in such matters.

Neither spoke as they walked through the rooms, near the end of the
small procession. Guido glanced at the young girl, who knew that he did,
but paid no attention. He thought her rather pale, and there was no
light in her eyes. Her hand lay like gossamer on his arm, so lightly
that he could not feel it; but he was aware of her perfectly graceful
motion as she walked.

"I suppose this was predestined," he said, as soon as the rest of the
guests were talking.

She glanced at him quickly now, her head bent rather low, her eyebrows
arching higher than usual. He was not sure whether the little
irregularity of her upper lip was accentuated by amusement, or by a
touch of scorn.

"Is it?" she asked. "Do you happen to know that it was arranged?"

It was amusement, then, and not scorn. They understood each other, and
the ice was in no need of being broken again.

"No," Guido answered with a smile. Then his voice grew suddenly low and
earnest. "Will you please believe that if I had been told beforehand
that I was asked in order to sit next to you, I would not have come?"

Cecilia laughed lightly.

"I believe you, and I understand," she answered. "But how it sounds! If
you had known that you were to sit next to