"It's too foolish to repeat. He's a silly boy." "I insist upon knowing." "He says----. No, no. I couldn't repeat it! His brain is affected. His blond wits are wandering." Dr. Cervini frowned and looked his fiercest. "What manners! Secret messages in the very presence of a guest!" "Well--he says the unspoken thoughts of a grateful world might intoxicate me, and he doesn't enjoy drunkards." Dr. Cervini laughed. "No, you are mistaken, Doctor. She has already survived that test. No living conqueror has sailed in triumph on such seas of glory. No other queen or goddess has achieved her victory without losing something of the simplicity, the freshness and the charm of youth. The hearts of men are hers. To entrance the world, to----" "Stop! Stop!" Again the color came to her cheeks. "If you said it too often, I might believe it, and then--adieu to all simplicity." The two men protested--each in his own manner--against all denials of their sincerity. More serious conversation followed. Dr. Cervini, after final instructions for the patient, departed, the Diva going with him to the outer door. As usual at these partings, she pressed him for an honest opinion of the patient's condition. And, as usual, it was favorable. She laid a hand on his arm. "You are telling me the truth, aren't you, old friend?" "Yes. On my honor. In a fortnight he shall eat and drink and talk in comfort. Believe me. Now, now! No tears! I know what a strain it is. You have been simply magnificent all through these weary weeks. Don't weaken now. The worst is over." "Yes, I will be brave. But the hardest of all is to see him suffer. He never complains. He tries so hard, so hard, to be cheerful! It seems, at moments, as if I could bear it no longer." "Go away for a week or two. I can bring an excellent nurse." "No, no! Never that!" "Then remember the child. It must not come into the world with the face of a tragic mask; with weeping eyes and wrinkled brow." She smiled and promised. But, after bidding him a cheerful good-by, and when the door had closed, she dropped into a chair and pressed both hands against her face. It was a determined effort to keep back the tears. They came, however; but the luxury was brief. With an air of somewhat fierce resolve she arose, stood just long enough before a mirror to dry her eyes, then, humming the gayest of airs from a comic opera, she went out into the loggia and rejoined the sufferer. Meanwhile, Dr. Cervini descended the driveway of the villa to the postroad. There he stopped, leaned upon the parapet and looked down upon the scene below him; the little town at the foot of the hill, and the sky-blue Adriatic.