"What!" I cried; "am I to leave you thus? for how long a time must I eat my heart out in this horrible uncertainty?" "Come to the park to-night," she said; "the wall is not very high. I will be in the narrow path that runs by the wall, near a statue which you will easily find by turning to your right from the gate. At one o'clock!" Again I kissed the signora's hands. "Oh! signora! signora!" exclaimed Lila, in a mild, sad tone of reproach. "Do not thwart me, Lila," said the signora, vehemently; "you know what I told you this morning." Lila seemed utterly dismayed. "What did the signora say?" I asked her. "She wanted to kill herself," sobbed Lila. "Kill yourself, signora!" I cried. "You who are so lovely, so light-hearted, so happy, so dearly loved!" "So dearly loved, Lelio!" she replied, in a despairing tone. "By whom am I loved, pray? only by my poor mother and by this dear Lila." "And by the poor artist who dares not tell you so," I added, "but who would give his life to make you love yours." "You lie!" she exclaimed passionately; "you do not love me!" I seized her arm in a convulsive grasp and gazed at her in stupefaction. At that moment the carriage suddenly stopped. Lila had pulled the cord. I jumped out, and tried, as I saluted my travelling companions, to resume the humble demeanor of the piano-tuner. But the red eyes of the two young women did not escape the footman's penetrating glance. He examined me with the greatest attention, and, when the carriage drove on, he turned several times to look after me. I had a vague idea that his features were familiar to me; but I had not dared to look him in the eye, and it did not occur to me to try to recall where I had seen that coarse, pale, heavily bearded face. "Lelio! Lelio!" said Checchina, when we were at supper, "you are in high spirits to-day. Look out that you do not weep to-morrow, my boy." At midnight, I had scaled the park wall; but I had taken only a step or two on the path when a hand grasped my cloak. To guard against accident, I had provided myself with what, in my village, we call a "night-knife," and I was about to produce it when I recognized the fair Lila. "Just a word, Signor Lelio, in great haste," she said in a low voice; "do not say that you are married." "What do you mean by that, my dear child? I am not." "It doesn't concern me," rejoined Lila; "but I beg you not to mention that lady who lives with you." "You are on my side then, my dear Lila?" "Oh! no, signor, certainly not! I do all that I can to prevent the signora from doing all these imprudent things. But she won't listen to me, and if I should tell her of the circumstance that might and should part her from you forever,--I don't know what would happen!" "What do you mean? Explain yourself."