was startled and alarmed by Sir John's
illness, you remember that I spoke to you
about it?"

"Remember! Ah, Veronica, can I forget
any word of yours?"

"Many, I should think: but probably not
those words. Well; it was not merely that
you were the only intimate acquaintance
who frequented our house; it was not even
that I thought you kind-hearted and
sympathising, and that in my utter loneliness I
yearned for kindness and sympathy. No:
all that would not have sufficed to make me
confide in you as I did. I knew that there
was a tie between us which gave me a real
claim on you. Cesare, you and I are
cousins."

"Cousins! You and I are cousins! But
how? Oh, Veronica, and you never said a
word—never gave a hint—that—"

"No. I never said a word, nor gave a
hint of our relationship. I never should
have done so, had not Sir John done me
justice and placed me in a position which I
could acknowledge to my kindred. My
mother was Stella Maria de' Barletti; and
your grandfather and my grandfather were
brothers."

"Dio mio! But he—Gale—must have
known this?"

Veronica had not anticipated this
common-sense remark. Barletti did not
appear sufficiently impressed by the greatness
of her conduct. When a sensitive
artist has made his point, he requires to be
sustained and encouraged by the enthusiasm
of his auditors.

"Sir John Gale," replied Veronica,
haughtily, "probably never heard the name
of my mother. She has been dead many
years. I have not been in the habit of
speaking to him of my maternal ancestors.
He is a parvenu, and like all parvenus
pretentious and jealous on the score of
family."

This magnificent tone a little
bewildered Barletti. He knew very well what
value was set on a member of the younger
branch of the princely family de' Barletti in
their own country. Poor princes had been
plentiful in his world ever since he could
remember; but rich English baronets had
not. He recollected having heard that his
respected great-uncle (Veronica's
grandfather) had married a young English lady
with a very moderate dowry (as to her
pedigree, no one had thought of inquiring,
so far as he knew), and that his respected
great-uncle was thought to have done
uncommonly well.

"And so we are really cousins!" he said,
looking wistfully at Veronica's tear-stained
face. "Ah, idolo mio, no cousinship can
make me love you more than I love you
already!"

"You do not seem to understand, Cesare,
that I refrained from claiming you as my
kinsman, or of hinting at our relationship to
Sir John, solely out of regard to the honour
of our family," said Veronica, impatiently.
"Some women might have appealed to you
to see them righted. But, although I knew
that the facts of my story could do you no
dishonour, I resolved to keep my secret
until I could face the world, which judges
only by outside appearances."

This was clumsy enough. The inspiration
which enables such imitative temperaments
as Veronica's to deceive themselves, had
faded from lack of responsive sympathy.
But the applause must be had, at whatsoever
cost of insistence! At last Cesare
understood what was expected of him. And,
be it noted, there was nothing in his mind to
make his response otherwise than genuine.

"Dear, noble Veronica!" he exclaimed,
gazing into her face with intense admiration.

"Ah, Cesare, you did not understand
me!"

"But I know, now, how brave and noble
you have been! And I know how utterly
unworthy of you is that man who—"

"Hush! Let that rest. He is very,
very ill."

"I saw him lifted into the carriage.
But, Veronica, he may linger a long time
yet."

She made no answer, but drew a little
apart from him, as he seated himself beside
her.

"I wish—I wish, Veronica, that you
would throw me a word of hope to feed on
in these weary days!"

"What can I say, Cesare? This is not
a moment to press such words on me. Do
not make me feel that I could not dare to
rely on you and appeal to you if—if I were
left alone here."

"You might give me a right, then, to be
relied on, and appealed to. Veronica, I
adore you! I would devote my life to
you!"

"Cesare, at such a time! When he is
lying there so il!"

"But he has been ill all these months!"
said Barletti, simply.

"Then think of me! I am worn out,
and cannot bear much more excitement.
If you will talk to me calmly, as a friend