"Look at me, signora, and remember my features, so that you may describe them to Signor Lelio; and if, as he listens to your description, he seems moved, do not by any means send him to me; for, if he should be faithless to you, I declare that it would be a most unfortunate thing for him, and that he would obtain nothing but contempt from me." As she was speaking, she uncovered her face. Her back was turned toward me, and I tried in vain to see her features in the mirror. But what need had I of the testimony of my eyes? was not that of my ears sufficient? She had entirely forgotten her English accent and spoke the purest Italian in that resonant, vibrating voice which had so often moved me to the very depths of my being. "I beg your pardon, miss," said Checchina, in nowise discomposed, "you are so lovely that all my fears are revived. I cannot believe that Lelio has not seen you already, and that you and he are not acting in concert to deceive me." "If he asks you my name," exclaimed Alezia, violently pulling out one of the long pins of burnished steel that held the folds of her veil in place, "give him this from me, and tell him that my crest bears a pin with this motto: 'For the heart in which there is no blood!'" At that moment, unable to rest under the burden of such contempt, I suddenly emerged from my hiding-place and rushed toward Alezia with a self-assured air. "No, signora," I said, "do not believe my friend Francesca's jests. This is all a comedy which she has enjoyed playing, taking you for what you chose to appear, and unaware of the importance of her falsehoods; it is a comedy which I have allowed her to play thus far because I hardly recognized you, you imitated so cleverly the accent and manners of an Englishwoman." Alezia seemed neither surprised nor moved by my appearance. She maintained the calmness and dignity in which women of rank surpass all other women when they are in the right. One who had seen her impassive features, lighted up little by little by a charming smile of irony, might well have believed that her heart had never known passion, and was incapable of knowing it. "So you think that I have played my part well, signor?" she retorted; "that will prove to you that I had some vocation for the profession which you ennoble by your talents and your virtues. I thank you with all my heart for having arranged an opportunity for me to act before you, and I thank the signora, who has been kind enough to give me my cue. But I am already disgusted with this sublime art. One must carry into it a fund of experience which it would cost me too much to acquire, and a strength of mind of which you alone in all the world are capable."