"As she did not leave me at once, I had time to look at her. She stood with her hand on her heart, bending beneath her burden of sorrow, and her sweet smile was sad enough to make one weep. She gazed at me with a sorrowful expression, but without the least indication of reproach. It seemed to me as if my angel, ready to leave earth behind, was saying farewell to me. She stood thus, mute and motionless, for a moment, then entered the house. "I was destined never to see her more in this world. "This time again I left the city bareheaded and running like a madman; but I did not return the next day, or the next; I kept on until I reached Rome. "I remained at Rome five years; I laid the foundation of my reputation, I won the friendship of the Rope, I had duels and love affairs and artistic success, but I was not contented,--something was lacking. Amid my engrossing occupations I never passed a day without turning my eyes toward Florence. There was no night when I did not see in my dreams Stefana, pale-faced and sad, standing in the doorway of her father's house, and gazing at me. "After five years I received a letter from Florence, sealed with black. I read and reread it so many times that I know it now by heart. "It ran thus:-- "'Benvenuto, I am dying. Benvenuto, I loved you. "'Listen to the dreams I dreamed. I knew you as well as I knew myself. I foresaw the power that is in you, and that will make you great some day. Your genius, which I read upon your broad forehead, in your ardent glance and your passionate gestures, would impose grave duties on her who should bear your name. I was ready to undertake them. Happiness had for me the solemnity of a divine mission. I would not have been your wife, Benvenuto, I would have been your friend, your sister, your mother. Your noble existence belongs to all mankind, I know, and I would have assumed no other right than that of diverting you in your ennui, of uplifting you in your moments of depression. You would have been free, my friend, always and everywhere. Alas! I had long since become accustomed to your lamentable absences from home, to all the exactions of your impulsive nature, to all the whims of your tempest-loving heart. Every powerful temperament has pressing needs. The longer the eagle has soared aloft, the longer he is obliged to rest on earth. But when you had torn yourself free from the feverish dreams of your genius, I would have found once more at the awakening my sublime Benvenuto, whom I love so dearly, and who would have belonged to me alone! I would never have reproached you for the hours of neglect, for they would have contained no insult for me. For my own part, knowing you to be jealous, as is every noble heart, jealous as the God of Holy Writ, I would have remained in seclusion when you were away, in the solitude which I love, awaiting your return and praying for you. "'Such would my life have been.