Ragna herself occupied a long invalid-chair of rattan and by her side stood a small table on which were a small vase of fresh flowers, a half-cut book and a glass of syrup and water. She had been in Florence about three weeks and had settled herself at once in the small apartment chosen for her by Dr. Ferrati. She had with her Carolina her Venetian protégée and who had proved to be just the person to help her through the difficult time to come. Carolina, effusively grateful, was devoted to her young mistress and evinced a truly Latin sympathy, and tact to the delicate situation. To her, at least, Ragna was a superior person, unfortunate perhaps, but to be admired and respected none the less. During the first few days, the newness of it all and the interest afforded by learning Italian ways of housekeeping and the work of arranging her belongings, had occupied Ragna's mind, but now that there was nothing more to do, only to live and wait, her spirits flagged and she became dull and unable to interest herself in the small details of her circumscribed existence. Her thoughts had freer scope and wandered far and wide, increasing in bitterness as the days crawled by. The first flush of her resolution to down the dictates of society at large by the arrogance of her individual will and strength of character, had died down, and she dragged through day after day in a state of dreary apathy. Egidio Valentini had come to see her several times and was keeping careful watch over her state of mind in order to seize the psychological moment for the furtherance of his project. He observed with satisfaction her growing depression and discontent with herself and her immediate surroundings. Ferrati gave her as much of his time as he could, unfortunately, it was but little, absorbed as he was in his professional duties, and though Virginia was kind, Ragna did not yet feel quite at ease with her. With Valentini she had many long and interesting conversations; he could be fascinating when he chose and with her he did choose, also the consideration and respect of his manner soothed her irritated self-consciousness, ever on the alert for a slight. She grew more and more dependent on him and on his visits and he occupied a larger portion of her thoughts than she would have cared to admit. She wondered sometimes, if he had penetrated the reason of her return to Florence, or if he accepted the fable of her ill health. If he had guessed, nothing in his manner pointed to the fact, and there was nothing sufficiently marked as yet in Ragna's appearance to make her condition patent to the inexperienced eye. She thought with dread of the time when he must know, and wondered how the knowledge would affect him and their relations, for his good opinion was dear to her and her heart sank at thought of losing it. She did not often speak to him of Ferrati, and the latter was in ignorance of the frequency of Egidio's visits, as