But this mood was not only foolish, but dangerous. To-night was big with significance. She must retain the glamor at all costs. To-night belonged to Alexis. It was his triumph and re-entry into his birthright. Upon it, his genius had emerged, new-born and greater than ever before, as if in temporary recoil it had acquired impetus. Yes, to-night was Alexis' and hers, for was it not her love that had re-created him? Was not his inspiration begotten of their passion as truly as if it had been a child of flesh and blood? No, Alexis must never suspect the still-born quality of her joy. Nor that she was relying upon his living blaze to rekindle her own flame. To-night had a special significance too, in the fact that she was permitting him to come to her in her own house for the first time since they had become lovers. Fear that the servants, those ancient slave-drivers of convention, might talk, had hitherto rendered her cautious. But this was a special occasion for which she had decided to break all rules. It would have been intolerable not to have rejoiced together to-night. And sacrilege to have done so in public. Even now she had been discreet and arranged for most of her household to be out. Regina alone, had prepared the little supper, which was to be served before the fire in the upstairs sitting-room. Regina, who would have returned from the concert herself, and who had probably shed tears of joy over Alexis' triumph. Dear old Regina of the keen eyes and wise heart, who, suspecting all, had never let fall a hint or a reproach. Poor Regina, who had not permitted herself to speak of the Marchese since his departure, and whose plucky spirit was, as Anne knew, heavy with nostalgia for Florence and the beloved villa. CHAPTER XXIII DISSONANCE The car had turned an abrupt corner and stopped before the house. Regina opened the door, a metamorphosed Regina clad in concert regalia, very respectable and solid. Upon her face an expression of exaltation was overlaid by one of anxiety. Anne attributed the exaltation to the concert. Regina had all the Latin's adoration for music. But the anxiety was somewhat puzzling. "Has Mr. Petrovskey arrived?" Regina nodded. The black brows knitted themselves above troubled eyes. "He awaits in the sitting-room, Signora." Something was very much the matter. Had Alexis been snubbing the poor old dear? Anne assumed a gay nonchalance. "Well, was it not a concert after your own heart, Regina? A triumph and a marvel?" The woman raised knotted hands to heaven. "He is an angel, Signora! Inspired by the Madonna and all the saints. He could melt the heart of the devil himself, not to speak of poor old Regina!" Her face fell suddenly. "After a trionfo like that, he should be gay as the bird. But he is not, Signora mia. He walk up the stairs with a face like one black cloud. He never say a word to poor Regina!"