THE LAST OF HIS FAMILY.

Oamaru Mail, Volume XXXVIII, Issue 10525, 5 August 1910, Page 6

THE LAST OF HIS FAMILY.

(By Florida Pier.)

The eomtessa t>iit down lior knitting and lighted a fresh cigarette. Her eyes oceanic cvfu more prominent . than usual. and shooting a :-:tray bit of tobacco into .space, she spoke. "Paolo, you're a fool." Her sou. who had been sprawling eicjantly cn the lounge, straightened up, making: his body curve with the v/idc-srated piece of furniture on which lie sat. Unfortunately, this ■ action made it impossible for liis feat to touch the floor. . His mother looked at his projecting legs, and the smolte issuing i'rom her nostrils curled furiously. '"ln Heaven's name," she breathed, '-.sit on something suited to your size. It. is not'a pleasant thing for me to. sec your feet protruding in that, infantile manner." The comte laughed faintly and lounged over to the piano stool, on which he twirled idly.

"You are. not every gracioffs, mamainia," he smiled. "Your temper is ,uu-. commonly sharp, and'you are smoking mv last cigarette." 'The knitting needles stopped and the cigaiette was" quickly taken from the stone window ledge.

"Am. I to understand that you are too lazy to keep yourself properly supplied, 'or that you lacked the money Viherewith to buy a decent number?" She luxuriously inhaled, and with half-closed eyes waited an answer. Her

son .squirmed, shrugged his shoulders, and jerking one end of his moustache perilously near his eye, gazed out of tiie window. - . "I am to understand, then, that you are too poor even ts buy cigarettes? A disgusting thing to- confess!. It brings us back to my opening remark, that- you are a fool." "Oh, mamma," the voung man suited. , "This conversation bores me 'puic as much as it does you, Paolo. Let ec assure you that you are not. alone in rinding yourself a slightly trying subject."' ' " , - *. The Comtessa's scorn was so .'no that her son threw back his head, and laughed. . .. ■"Your bad humor is a work of art, •iiaiiuua. I am forced to admire it even v. !ie:i 1 ;i iicause. You are, with \oirr usual stimulating fireworks, leading up to the question of niy marriage. I really can't propose to another girl. Four refusals have made me a iataiist. The family will have to end wirli me,." The knitting needles bristled. "Don'tdare to speak of your stupid bungling in my presence. Have the pride to consider those incidents as never having happened. You will leave for .Rome tomorrow, you will become betrothed to that young AincPiean person, and then never again lot me hear you speak of our family ending. Bio mio," there were tears in the speaker's voice, "you would prophesy the Dav of Juciginciit with calm!" ' The young man's grin relaxed into querulous "frown. He eyed his radiant boot:- and jangled his word - viciously. •'lf the pretty Ripley says no, it will be the iast. I'm not going to attempt every- hurdle you put me at." Out of the cloud of smoke enveloping iiis mother came her voice: "She must ;:l say no. Neither your creditors nor mine will permit her co say no. She must, a.? proof of her 'yes,' be brought here and exhibited. Bv the twentieth at the latest." "The twentieth. Per Bacco!" As her son clanked from the room the comtessa slipped her feet out of her slippers and dusted thv steel Leads with her sleeve. The pretty l!ip!e,\ s

"yes" was altogether too uncertain a mV.ttc-r to permit of slippers being worn when no one v. as present. These conversations with her son were becoming more and more of a burden. They were always on the .same subject, they 'were for this very . reason- infrequent, and they saddened the comtessa anew with a sense of gathering, threatening' futility. Her personal wants, which she rigorously coutrolled, the vital need that the family should be carried on, the demands of the creditors —and these last were in Jfap-r of being looked after by the creatures themselves—all depended for fulfillment on a young man who, when seated on an ordinarily wide sofa, could not make his feet touch the ground. The comtessa blamed herself for this sharply. She thought of her tail brothers and imposing father,'and with a

tear of gratitude remt'iioered that Paolo had been still in skirts when her husband 'lied. "He wo.i'.r! never have forgiven me," :,ke hki; nui'vd and n ade a feint of not looking toward the piece of furniture which had so failed in

loyalty ti. the family. She continued to thi;;k of her son and he became more and more the vanishing point for an entire scheme <;f things. Was itworth v.'hile planning for the future of a tag end r" I'aolo always seemed so 011 the point of being snuffed out, and if he went she would not dream of refusing i>. simultaneous extinguishment. . Thou her lips closed tightly, and she shook these vagaries out of -her head. Paolo lias a Tiaspaglione. He represented one of the oldest families in Italy. The family would go on. It must. In extremity she had been foi'ced to resort to ;in unknown American chit, but she would be rewarded, she would die in a repaired palazzo-with the knowledge that- her son had been only a warning, not a final judgment. The comte.-sa looked around at the

faded coverings of the furniture, the beautiful wci-m-caten, doors, and the K'iv pieces of ugly modernity which she h:d contrived to afford. She smiled tint' IVjlt reassured by a baize-covered card table and a lamp with a beaded

.shade. Tiicy represented so many successful -attempts at holding her own, i;::t as the tattered brocade represented a decay that could not be controlled, \ dwindling over which'she was power:"js. The name her husband "had left k::r. the duty of seeing that it was 'u::;ded on with its accompanying traditions, her determination to give an ascending push to the family fortunes, all these things were somehow mocked a', and made to seem trifling and unreal by the steadily fading frescoes and U.e wood that .almost delighted in its

rr.hiiito rotting. In the piazza -below her windows a b::lid was playing, the musicians devot•i:. themselves" to their task with the .stolid seriousness of men who on other ;: - -.ys of the week are merchants. The comtessa listened a moment, her mouth puckering as she saw three of her ere-

cli:ors blowing ruddily on brass instruments. Then her black brilliantine heaved as she remembered that t'r.< of the Grsziani had once

lowered on the spot where nurses now •L. audlcd babies, and marriageable ''-. lighters walked self-conscious beside decorous, weary -mothers. The piazza i:ad been the whim of a Raspaglione, r.;.d was his public chuckle over a vanquished enemy. He had put to death or the Graziani. He had razed

their house and laid out a pleasure ground for the citizens on its site. The r ..-.-ntossa gazed unseeing from her tfintkw; the Graziani had died fighting, they had ended on a top note. The c;;:ntessii turned her back on the piazza :i::d wondered if that- bloodthirsty realised now that the Crnsinni had, after all, got the better of him. Witli his assistance they had been cplendid to the end, while his own family were now in danger of —. She cheeked her running - thoughts at this ;:oint and then, welcoming the pain of their destination, finished with, "a repetiiion of Paolo." On the seventeenth the eomte -.miied fatuously in reminding his mother that he was producing the nrcttv Ripley a full three days before the date she liad set —a black .victoria awaited at the station the train from Rome. The horse's knees had been pounded out on perpendicular roads .•ml the coaclmian seemed to. shrink inf'Je his livery in a habitual effort to c-.-c.~;ie the winds of the hill town. He sat in a shrivelled reverie while the passorted themselves out, and eyed little suspiciously the young girl who rp;.!-o!tched the carriage. rv "Are you the Comtessa di Raspagli-i-;:c's*coachman? Do you speak any iuiTlish ? I -am Miss Ripley."

The voice which said this was so honest, the eyes above so frankly r. mused; and the hat- . above them so at-tcnisliingly, needlessly large that T'rni.ccsco for a. moment stared in bev. ildcrment." Then with much oratory

a faint impression in the back of JiU brain that something amiably cataclysmic had happened, he bundled her maid and luggage into a tram and v. <-;veJ 3l>k<s Ripley herself into the'victoria. She settled her short skirts, threw away some roses which had begun to fade, and laughed a shade nervously.

The cushions were flat with long usage and .she gave a little bounce of t-artiy realisation that she was uncomfortable. Moving over to the other corner seemed a possible improvement, and this brought- Francesco's head about inquiringly. The girl nodded up at him, and on" his old face crackling into a •smile, she leaned back in frank outburst of amusement. "You nice old thing, you think I'm 1 queer, don't you ? \\ ell, nothing to what I think I am myself?" As Francesco nodded encouragingly | and rolled forth a benediction of soft ' sounds, she laughed again, and felt a sudden, hearty friendliness for the brown town toward which they were gradually ascending. On the train she Jjad thought, ""What a queer-looking place." Now- she felt f that the cities she" had" Known before were queer, while this fortified, venerable pile was natural and right. When they rolled under a great Finiscan arch and a guard peered into the carriage, a tremulous excitement- caught her. . She. was-being rushed back into the past. For the first time, she felt connected, with what had gone befcre and what was coming "after. She was conscious of a sudden shyness with herself, and to relieve her inarticulate confusion, laughed again and exclaimed: "Good, gracious, isn't it a queer; place!" . ; Her astonishment' became a maze in which she was gradually lost. By the time she had been shown to lier big, gloomy room and afterwards brought down'to the drawing-room where the comtessa and her son awaited her, she was hushed and made awkward by a-

growing sense of unreality. She paused outside the drawing-room door'for ail instant, hoping for a confidence that refused to come; then, pushing it open, she went in. . ~ ; . . .'. The comtessa rose, and the girl went' to her, her eyebrows drawn into a questioning pucker. "You were awfully good to ask me to come at once," she began, and 1 paused. There was also a question-in the . eyes of the comtessa. She. spoke, and, the girl smiled a little .dumbly, turning to Paolo' for ail interpretation... "My mother says she is very .happy to 'see you,, and " she asks 'why' your mother is not witli you?" ■ "Oh, of course, I should have explained at once. Mother came with me, but when she got to -the station, she balked. Can you explain that to your mother without making my mother seem too queer? Just .say that mother found she had to go on to Florence. It's quite true, only it \vas the situation that made her. She couldn't face the engagement, and not speaking the language, she just funked it, and X -came alone. Can you, make that not sound queer?" The comtessa had held the girl's hands during her hurried speech, taking in her ample air, her clear, heedless gaze, and the blundering richness of bar dress. . Now he listened to her son's rendering of the young woman's explanation and froze, as he. finished. "But with whom can I discuss business?" _ She closed her teeth on her lower lip and added a second after: "That can be arranged later, however. \sk her to tell me her given name." The comte again acted as interpreter and the girl laughed. "That's easy. _\[y name is Spring. It's rather foolish, isn't it ? We began to'be able to afford poetry about the time I was born and mother rather let herself go on my name." The comtessa's big black eyes snapped astonishment and the two women looked ift each other longer than either intended. A strained smile quivered on Spring's face. "Tell your mother," she said quickly, "that- I. really like you. She looks at me as though she wonders why I'm here." The elder woman received this curiously. She led the girl to a chair and eyed her as she sat down. She had covered the shabbiest chair in the room with the richest piece of. modernity that had ever come into her possession. Satisfaction softened her features, and with a sense of security, of having at last a veal weapon in her hand, she watched the two young people as they chattered. "Tell me," Spring was saying—it became her perpetual chant in the days tiiat followed—"tell me about your family when thc-y were such awfully splendid fighters." The comte, slightlj" bored, and wholly unaccustomed to recounting those .old tales, announced over and over again that he had come to the end. Always she made him remember more. "But," he objected on the third day . of her visit, "I seem to be the only member of my family in whom you are not interested. You might give me a little attention." He took her hand and she drew it away soberly. A slow smile parted her lips. "I do forget you a little, but you mustn't worry. Ido like you, you know." Then her eyes became blank to him and she insisted that lie repeat a story he. had told the day of her coming. She listened, motionless. "They didn't- care much whom 'they killed, did they?" the young man yawned. She laughed, unable to accustom herself to the fire of those long-past actions. "They were lusty, though, and I iike them."

Tlie comte moved restlessly. "Thgy were ridiculously blopdy, but you don't seem to mind it." " Her eyes closed to an amused slit. •'Blood's better than buttons! As a family heirloom, I mean." '"Button:-'" The comte moved nearpr and prepared for banter.

"Yes; von see father made his money in buttons, millions of buttons, miles .of factories. We've climbed, though not so darned high, on buttons,- and though I've never minded them particularly before, they maks mo quite crazy about the general bloodiness,, as you-say, of your family."

And not in the least crazy about me, not just a little?" The comte concentrated all his powers in a killing glance. J "Oh, you"—she locked her hands about her knees and was as blind as a boy to his wiles —"you're all right, of course, only you needn't make love to me quite so much; we don't in America, and, and you must tell your mother one thine;. I tried to tell her this morning, in French, but I couldn't. ' It's about the money; she spoke of it again. You must say to her that dad will give anything, ouite all' that's needed, only I can't talk about it. I want to be of the house of the Raspaglione; I adore .it all. I want to be part of it; won't you understand and tell her?" She slipped her bands into the comte's, accepting even his limp assurances in her desire to end her stumbling speech. It -was shortly after this that she commenced sitting by the comtsss.a's chair as she wrote and knitted in the brocaded camerino. For two or three mornings she contented herself with staring out of the window or rustling the leaves of a book. Later, her large whits hinds with their shiny nails lying idly in her lap, she smiled shyly, mutely at her hostess, and occasionally in her dismayed and constantly routed French she would put a question. The comtessa always replied blandly, and Sprincr, in her failure to understand, would' retire sheepishly into tLysir strangely companionable silence. Gradually out of the air a.feeling came to her. She puzzled : over it and traced rt to the. comtessa.; Her hostess -was not, for some reason or other, taking her son's fiancee for granted. She was still waiting at this fate date, waiting to believe that she had come to stay. Waiting, it almost seemed, to find out why she had come at all. The girl, in her big, cold, frescoed room, imagined that she could feel the uncertainty of the woman downstairs, and imagining, too, tliat she wanted to be reassured, would run to her and sit near, slightly abashed at her own whimsies.

One day she managed to ask that she be shown about the palace, and. stumbling, blushing, feeling herself forced back "into-the ignominy of childhood,' she made the comtessa understand that she must be lier guide, and that if she spoke very slowly,, in very short sentences, a sufficient comprehension could be assured. .The two women started off, the black, sailing figure of the comtessa a little in advance of her incongruous, interested guest?" Tihey began in the entrance court, and it came out- in the beginning that Spring had been deciphering early histories of the town.

"With gracious precision, and frequent to see if the young girl understood, the comtessa told of the great fiirlit when four brother had held their palace, against the other nobles of the town and only exiled themselves when the crooked street going past the door was running blood. There was so much to tell, it took so long, and the girl was still unsatisfied and demanding de-

tails. The two women, sometimes carrying candles for badly lighted corridors. sometimes sitting on winding, woni steps for a hotter thrashing out of a hardv incident, annoyed the comte and drove him to the tennis club. He disliked tiieir magnifying of an already swamping past. The suggestion of priestess in his mother's stately, gloomy tread roused his temper, and he contrived to be away from the house a great"-deal. One day, as_.he returned lie found them standing at the head of the great staircase. Spring was being told the story of the Raspaglione who had invited his brother the cardinal on a ceremonial visit, and of what happened.to him when lie came. : She was listening intently. When she saw her fiancee she called to him to hurry, and .he bounced up the • steps, thanking' her . for deigning to .notice liim. She.laughed and. bade him to sit down beside her.. "Interpret for your, mother,' .quick," - she .urged. "I must hear about that cardinal, and lean t understand what she means. Hurry, do." . The comtessa started afresh, .her patience contrasting oddly with her spirited coiffure and militant front. She stopped for! her son's Rendering, and he repeated' with a good-natured disdain. "It seems that the fifth step was arranged oil a spring by my hospitable relative for the benefit of his brother, whom my-mother says a lot about that, condensed, means the old cardinal was a- bit of a tyrant who had ■ not-always made himself popular. When lie had made a noisy entrance into''the city i with much .waving of flags and speeches, my wise ancestor gave him this house for an unlimited stay arid begged that he be the first f to descend this staircase, which had just been finished. The cardinal started down " the- stairs, and 'when his foot touched the fifth step he somehow pitched forward and was picked np .a very much damaged bundle. Before he died he managed to. curse our unfortunate family." The. comte stopped with' a- grimace of derision. Spring was staring down at the foot of .the .staircase. :.She, looked at the young man without "siniling, then at his mother. "Tell me what she is saying now;" she commanded, . "arid please don't ,try to- make it : funny." The" comtp's,shoulders went up. "She wishes me to tell you that since that time no true Raspaglione goes down those stairs without pausing unconsciously at the fifth step. It is perfectly Sound now, of course, but I've seen my grandfather stop short when lie was in a hurry. It is a great grief to my dear mother that I have been known to omit the pause." The comtessa guessed what he was saying, and rose impatiently. The two 'young people sat where they were. The comte murmured Cara mia, and Spring sat unresponsive. She felt herself a little ridiculous and was unaffected by it. She continued to look at him anil

.admitted to herself that in all likelihood' she bored him. Men had always liked her before,'but perhaps she had been different before. If she tried, she could charm this little dark man beside her; for a moment she thought of calling up her chattering, breezv, straightforward self. He would like" that. He would cease his perfunctorily adoring expression. That was what she would do; it would be nicer somehow, and as she reached this point in her rather blurred reasoning,- she found herself taking frantically the course that would send him away. Holding to her serious mask desperately she looked past him and refused to notice that he had o-ent-Iy touched the lace of her gown. " He stood up and murmured an excuse for leaving her. That was what she wanted.

Jis he went up the steps si breathed quickly and was conscious o f having taken a definite step, c-f ahnosc having gained a point. She wondered a,little what it was, and felt raw and in need of help. Looking down at hers .i. silc : seemed big and new- Languidly she went and stood on the fifth step. >t- brought "her again the sensation oi the long chain of lives which reached back so far. She had taken her place in it. She belonged to it and must do something to add to its grandeur.' It demanded that of her. For a moment it seemed pitiless and she felt trapped; witti a gasp she picked up her skirts and ran down the steps. She had never been accustomed !o tninking silly thoughts, why did she now ? With a childish anger she decided she was not quite ' well and blamed the damp stone floors. 'During her silent drive with the comtessa that afternoon she thought resentfully of the Raspaglione and balanced wearisomely the pride in being a part of them against the plea that they should not exact anything too difficult of her. Yet nothing that she could think of would be too much if they would continue to accept her as one of them, if those people of the past world would not mind her representing them.

From this on, things went quickly, and the comtessa saw. She watched' tiie girl with an apparent knowledge of the road* she was taking. It made her softer, gentler. She said once, with a hand, on Spring's arm, "Pao 1 o is good, you know, and not unintelligent. This is not an age for heroics. He might do very creditably if there was a war."

■ ■ 'She drew a clear-toned response. "But I'm sure of it, and lie is very amusing, too." The comtessa crushed out her eigaiette and added: "He was not a small 'baby at all." Spring laughed softly and then knew, with a certainty that hurt, the conitessa's poignant thankfulness in the marriage of her son. Her wanting it so terribly cleared things for Spring. Between them they were going to do their best for the name. .That was -settled. She promised, in tbe long silence that followed her laugh, to do for the family whatever seemed best for its good fame. With this so finally understood she ceased to be much with the comtessa. It had taken a fortnight of their silent intercourse for thqm to arrive, but now they were happily sure of each other.

Every afternoon, Spring accompanied the comte to the tennis club, and in the' company of joung matrons sedately watched his playing. She found herself protecting him. If his conversation was not heeded, she talked amusingly of him and drew interested smiles in his direction. When he stood by a tall man, she made a place for him on the bench, and if ahy looked at her wonderiugly, she smileij with pointed pride. As the majority of women about her were sipping their sweet drinks she saw something happen on tile court that chilled her onlyas long as she believed it. No one else had noticed it, she must have been mistaken, the sun was in her eyes, she had'not seen distinctly.

.In ths jiext game it o.cciirred for what she now felt sure was the second time. In a minute her hat was off, and she stood up ill a shrirt skirt declaring her. intention of playing. Exclamations followed. It was not usual for young~girls to play. The sun would be too hot for her. The women remonstrated, ■ some coldly. The men thought it would be amusing; Paolo waited to see in ■ which. way public opinion went. 1 ■ Spring triumphed, and a racket was found for her ; Paolo must be her partner; her insistence . was graceful and the man at her side exhibited fatuous gratification. She-- played ' vigorously, and the set was. tlieirs.r At . the end she. again wondered if she - had not been mistaken. - But it was better to have played. If anything had been noticed she could have expostulated the others into uncertainty, or claimedthe mistake■ as hers and demanded- indulgence on' the ground of .feminine careler.'.ness. On -the way home she was silent and allowed him to think her tired. . At dinner the /comtessa begged -there should be 110 repetition of so unusual a .thing, but Spring's gay refninder that as an American she must be permitted such - concessions, remained the last. word. For the liext' week she played every ■ afternoon and at the last the ugly word rang hi her -ears unreproved. Paolo was a cheat. _ .

She proclaimed lierself tired of the club, bored ,by the game. She urged expeditions into the country, flattered him into arranging them, and then made merry with a chatter that became strained'; and • which seemed to the comtessa a little awful. The girl was fighting so bravely with her hearty weapons, and their inadequacy was- "not yet apparent to her. She was a gallant figure on these day excursions pnd cot" + g wike to a pretense of alacrity. He followed her lead; and substituted for an underr.tanding of boats and horses his rather charming recklessness.

Returning from a day at a ncigh-r boring hill town, the trio entered the pulazzo languidly. It had been hot' and the comtessa declared herself exhausted. S;he wont directly to her room, laughing over a concoction of lemonade. \The comic was in a gale of-' spirits and announced himself incapable of carrying out the receipt unless his hand. was..hold. Spring complied, protesting.- The glasses were, filled.' He raised his high and she waited for some absurd toast. •He paused and put down his glass. ''My love," rang in the air, , Bending. her back in her chair, he. kissed her throat, her lips. Her "Please, please," went uailieeded.' . With;: a deep-toned "All,"" she rose, sending him staggering. Then her youth flushed her hot and she cried: "You've shamed me. You had no right to kiss like that." Her...quick breathing quieted. Her large, rather, dumb eyes ■opened- and - her . gaze widened the distance between them until it brought her back to herself.

Her calm returned gradually, and as she "welcomed it she . little by little separated herself from the last fifteen minutes. After she had shaken tliem | off and "stood'partly free She continued ■to look at him where he swaggered by the untouched glasses. Then stolidly, and with an enunciation that tanged brass ' she said,' "It's p dirty little man," and picking up her parasol, went quickly from the room. , The next morning she did not appear. The comtessa sent to her room : aml' received word'that she was resting. At luncheon her maid came asking,that a tray might be carried to the room above. The comtessa looked at her son, but he was studying his plate minutely. The tray was sent with kindly messages. Had Miss Ripley, perhaps, a headache? The maid thought not, there had been: no word of a headache.. - The comtessa's eyebrows flew heavenward. This bald refusal to inventa presentable excuse was very modern. It embarrassed her and she was glad when the maid had left. The com to had not gone, out before luncheon : after it he continued to hang about the hails and wander in and out of. the different rooms. The comtessa listened to the tapping of his heels on the stone floors and she knew he was waiting .for Spring to leave her room. In that case, he had the key to her staying' there. His restlessness was contagious. She, too, walked up and down, quietly, so that she could hear his tramp above her own. Once she wanted to go to him. If he had done something stupid she might he able to right it; they could talk it over; he was her boy. Then she noticed that they' were keeping step. Was liis stride no longer than hers P The farce of things struck her, and she laughed harshly. At six the comte had been twice to his cafe, hurried twice to his home, and each time heard that Spring was still in her room. Now as he ran quickly up the stairs he saw her coming along; the hall. She was in street clothes -and her mcdishness was oddly deserted, as though it 110 longer represented her. She looked a little bewildered and newly kind. They drew near and paused. With a soft breathlessnoss she, exclaimed, "I'm going awav," and held tightly her lifted skirts as though a releasing of them would retard her flight. The comte bowed. "Not for long, I trust."

"Oh, yes, I'm going awav for good." The phrase ."■truck on her oar and she sobered to the point of solemnity. "I'm going away because I've decided not to marry yon. It's the only thing I ca7i do to help, and so, of course, I've got to. I think the family ought, to end now ; as far as I'm concerned it must. Don't you see yourself that the end has come P Those mighty old dears, we owe it to them to stop." Her lips were trembling and she hurried over the words. "I'm talking very queerly. but it can't be helped." Her assumption of the we, her baldness, sounded a little dull, as though she was tco tired to separate meanin its.

A torrent of words came from the romte. She listened to them sturdily, blushing for answer, one hand attempting to excuse her silence. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she chimed, and added, "It's got to be." His anger whipped him into accusations under which she quivered. Her

wounded "Ohr" punctuated his flow. He named his mother and demanded a repetition of the girl's absurdities before her.

Spring shock her head. "It won't do any good. I've seen her. She- was very kind. She had been crying. I think, but she. wasn't surprised. She was very quiet and said she knew what I was going to say ; I kissed her; oh, I can't talk anv more."

She r.tarted toward the stairs, the comte letting her pass. He was pale, and his hand covered his 'mouth. She stood still and turned back to look at him. They stared at each other for a long moment, the gauche, troubled girl and the sneering, flashing man. Again she turned and slowly started down the stairs. At the fifth step she paused absently, and as she passed out into the light he ww that the tears were running down her cheeks. Hurrying along the narrow street she, murmured between sobs. "There wasn't any help for it. I could see that; I'm stupid, but I could see it had to be." Her teeth chattered as she ran stumbling down the road to the station. As she waited for the train, she dabbed her handkerchief to her eyes, and looked back through a burning mist at the lights coming out on the "liill top. The. bell in St. Pietro was ringing, and it softened the end for her. She smiled, and to _ a running accompaniment of "I don't know much, I know I'm stupid," murmured : "He did look a little splendid at the last."