For my own part, amid the merriment and animation which that excellent girl had brought into my solitude, I was absorbed by the memory of my adventure at the Grimani villa, and tortured by the longing to see my fair patrician once more. But how was I to do it? I cudgelled my brain to no purpose to invent some means which would not compromise her. When I left her I had sworn to do nothing imprudent. As I reviewed in my mind my impressions of those last moments, when she had appeared in such an artless and touching aspect, I felt that I could not act inconsiderately with respect to her without forfeiting my own esteem. I dared not make inquiries concerning her friends, still less concerning her domestic arrangements. I had refrained from making acquaintances in the neighborhood, and now I almost regretted that I had done so; for I might have learned by accident what I dared not ask directly. The servant who waited upon me was a Neapolitan who had come with me, and, like myself, had never been in that region before. The gardener was stupid and deaf. An old care-taker, in charge of the villa since Nasi's childhood, might perhaps have enlightened me; but I was afraid to question her, for she was inquisitive and loquacious. She was much disturbed to know where I went; and, during the three days that I had failed to bring her any game or to give an account of my rambles, she was so wrought up that I trembled lest she should discover my romance. The bare mention of a name might put her on the track. So I was very careful not to pronounce it. I did not wish to go to Florence; I was too well known there; if I showed my face there, I was certain to be overwhelmed with visits. The unhealthy and misanthropical frame of mind which had caused me to seek the solitude of Cafaggiolo, had led me likewise to conceal my name and profession from the very servants in the house as well as from the neighbors. It was necessary now for me to guard my _incognito_ more closely than ever; for I supposed that the count would soon arrive, and that his fancy for marriage would lead him to desire to bury in mystery Checchina's presence in his house. Two days passed with no word from Nasi, who might have enlightened me; and I had not ventured to take a step out-of-doors. Checchina had a heavy cold and considerable pain, as a result of the mishaps of her journey. It may well be that, as she did not quite know what course to adopt with me, and as she preferred not to seem to be waiting for her faithless lover, after swearing that she would not wait for him, she was not sorry to have a valid excuse for remaining at Cafaggiolo.