“He arose at once, and resumed his attitude of teacher. “Madame entered. She had not been gone two minutes. “Gradually, as the intimacy between madame and the exile advanced, her strict surveillance over me was relaxed. I was still a child in her eyes, and she was a charming woman who had fired the young Italian with admiration. So she did not feat to leave Luigi and myself together. “As for Miss Murray, she hated all foreigners, especially Italians, and most especially political exiles, so she was seldom present during Saviola’s calls. We had many a _tête-à-tête_. And for a few weeks we lived happily in mere certainty that we could see and talk with each other every day. But then came a change. “Luigi became restless and unhappy. He never smiled now. He often sighed heavily. He grew paler than his custom and very thin. “Madame—poor madame—thought the youth was pining away for her love. And surely she did all she could to encourage him to speak plainly to her; all she could, except to tell him in so many words that she was ready to marry him. “One day she sent me out of the room, and was with him alone for an hour. I think then she really did propose to him, and that he saved himself without wounding her, for when she recalled me to the room Saviola was gone, and she was in tears, when she said to me: “‘Ah, the poor prince! He is so honorable, so conscientious. He sacrifices—he immolates himself! It is for duty—it is for patriotism! We must cure him of all that.’” CHAPTER XXVIII A MAD ACT “So thanks to the blind vanity of the French governess, the young Italian and her pupil escaped her suspicion. “We were Romeo and Juliet. We were Francesca and Paolo, Tasso and Leonora. “Ah! I have often thought since that it was well, in the interest of poetry and romance, that the story of these lovers never carried them into matrimony; for such delirious passion is not the love that lasts through a long life! “A disastrous day was fast approaching us. “Luigi had been for some time suffering under the deepest depression of spirits. Madame looked at him and sighed as if she understood his secret sorrow and could console him, if he were not so morbidly honorable and conscientious, if he were not so determined to sacrifice, to immolate himself on the altar of duty and patriotism. “One morning she left the room on some errand that her restlessness suggested. “In another moment Luigi was again at my feet, pleading with me now to give myself to him, or rather to take him for myself, for my lover, adorer and husband at once and forever. “He explained in rapid, vehement words that he was recalled to Italy; that he must go; that he could not and would not leave me behind; he would rather die than leave me. “All this, and much more, he poured forth in a torrent of words, to which I only replied by tears.