your lovely image, I presumed upon your gracious kindness. I was
accursed--accursed. I did sacrilege--I profaned the temple." I strode
about before her declaiming against myself, not looking at her.

She laughed her vexation away. "My poor Checho," she said, "if you knew,
if you could understand! Those days and nights of ours were very sweet.
Come, let us walk a little. It is chilly here. Come, we will go into the
house and you shall tell me of your travels." She took my arm; I led her
back to the house.

I sat by her side in the little saloon which had been Donna Giulia's
boudoir, and served Aurelia now for the same purpose; and judging
honesty the kindest, and only, course, I told her everything of my
defence of Virginia, hinting at the same time at my suspicions of Count
Giraldi. I said that the poor child had certainly been betrayed to the
marchese, that the count and Father Carnesecchi alone had known her
story, that I could not suspect the Jesuit, and therefore----At this
point Aurelia stopped me, not by any words, but by her appearance of
being upon the point of words. She was very much excited, but she
controlled her speech; and I went on to tell her that, in consequence of
that betrayal, I had felt bound to make Virginia my wife. At this I
thought that she was ill. She stared at me as if I had suddenly stabbed
her; she went perfectly white. "Your wife!" she whispered--"you have----
"

"Madam," I said, "that is the truth. I have never shrunk from my duty, I
believe, and never saw duty plainlier than then. I married Virginia, or
thought that I did; but it now appears that my marriage was none at all--
not by my fault, but by that noble girl's mistaken generosity. And now
that I have lost her I must by all means find her. She must be mine for