two-soldi boy acted as chaperon,--and his end had
come.

It had only been a flash from out the lower
corner of the left eye of Loretta as she floated
along past the big columns of the Palazzo of
the Doges, but it had gone through the young gondolier
and out on the other side, leaving a wound that
nothing would heal. She had not intended to hurt
him, or even to attract him;--he only happened to
be in the way when her search-light illumined his
path.

Vittorio knew at a glance that she came from the
rookeries and that he, the scion of a noble family,
should look higher for his mate, but that made no
difference. She was built for him and he was built
for her, and that was the end of it: not for an
intrigue--he was not constructed along those lines--
but with a ring and a priest and all the rest of it.
The main difficulty was to find some one who knew
her. He would not,--could not, confront her; nor
would he follow her home; but something must be
done, and at once: a conclusion, it will be admitted,
than an incalculable number of young Vittorios have
reached, sooner or later, the world over.

When, therefore, a rumor came to his ears that
Luigi the Primo was protecting her--the kind of
protection that could never be misunderstood in