It was a beautiful spectacle, at all events, even if there were no sound accompanying it. For now the moon had risen clear, and there was a pale soft light all along the northern hills, and just enough radiance lying over the bosom of the lake to show the darkness of the hulls of the distant steamers. And then, as they watched, some order seemed to grow out of that confusion of coloured lights; the high golden mass drew away; and then the others followed, until the long undulating line seemed like some splendid meteor in the night. There was no sound. Cadenabbia, with all its yellow fire, was as clearly deserted as this Bellagio here, with all its paper lanterns and coloured cups. The procession had slowly departed. The _Serenata_ was taking place somewhere else. The gardens of this hotel were silent but for the occasional voices of Frank King and his companions. Well, they laughed away their disappointment; and chatted pleasantly, and enjoyed the beautiful night, until Miss Beresford thought it was time for them to go indoors. 'But where's Nan?' she said. 'That girl is never to be found.' 'I think I can find her,' said Frank King, rising hastily. He had been regarding for some time back that long allee between the chestnuts, and a dark figure there that was slowly pacing up and down, occasionally crossing the patches of moonlight. When he had got about half-way along, he found Nan leaning with her elbows on the parapet, and looking out on the moonlit lake. 'Oh, Miss Anne,' he said, 'your sister wants you to come indoors.' 'All right,' she said cheerfully, raising herself and preparing to go. 'But I want to say a word to you,' he said hurriedly. 'I have been trying for an opportunity these two days. I hope you won't think it strange or premature or impertinent----' 'Oh no,' said Nan, with a sudden fear of she knew not what; 'but let us go indoors.' 'No, here, now,' he pleaded. 'Only one moment. I know we are young; perhaps I should not ask you to pledge yourself, but all I ask for is to be allowed to hope. Surely you understand. Nan, will you be my wife--some day?' He would have taken her hand; but she withdrew quickly, and said with a sort of gasp-- 'Oh, I am so sorry. I had no idea. It must be my fault, I am sure; but I did not know--I was not thinking of such a thing for a moment----' 'But you will give me leave to hope?' he said. 'I mean some day--not now.' 'Oh no, no!' she said with an earnestness that was almost piteous. 'If I have made a mistake before, this must be clear now. Oh, don't think of such a thing. It never could be--never, never. I am very sorry if I have pained you; but--but you don't know anything about me; and you will soon forget, for we are both far too young--at least I am--to think of such things; and--and I am very, very sorry.' 'But do you mean that I am never to think of it again, even as a hope?' he said, slowly.