HomeMy WebLinkAboutLucknow Sentinel, 1892-02-26, Page 6,e.
*t1l. bitevitaltle
'glib* world ain't what it uster be,"
olciesta eittler cried,
"sffletit's so. b'gosh, as lye kin see,"
Hie satellites replied.
seind,then they bossed the job a spell—
; UM -had a -plenty tiwo—
And the world. Jogged not so well
*kin their ancient pro.
* * 4*
7 'Tviagever-thwirr oldagomust vex
Its Soul at new learned tricks,
70r, ere it passed in its checks
'Most every creature 'deka.
A BARITONE'S DEVOTION
Olt. A TALE OF SUNNY ITALY.
CHAPTER %H.
A TROUBLND NIGHT.
Ali, Love! but a day,
Ane the world is changed
The sun's away,
And tae bird estranged;
The wind has dropped,
And the sky deranged;
Summer has stopped.
R. BROWIffNG.
Francesca kept up bravely all through
Abe long hours of that Whitsun Monday;
slik dinner she talked a little more than
;foal to cover CaxIo's silence, but it was
hard work, and she gave a sigh of relief
When at length the ordeal was over, and
ho was was free to go away alone. Carlo stood
Up to open the door for her, and as she
paased himshelooked up into his eyes and
smiled ; but once Within the friendiy shel-
ter of the drawing -room her own fill. .1 with
tears. She would have given much to run-
up to her room and have a good ors ; that
was out of the question, however, tor she
Alould not plead a headache when by so
deing,site should lose Gerlo's good night.
• The sound of the dining -room door timing
snide her beat a hasty retreat leen the
bon slight ; the stood in the aliade, and
made anthough she were looking out of the
• withloVs; while she hurriedly dried her eyen,
'#)*, not for the world would she have been
anght crying.. Mr. Britton, tootinginto
re'tifia;',deecried the,,,sliin 'figure in its
and 'oatinetoWard her.
11*qetVr4U.'-q1S.a said, '! if you will
inkme the lazieat old oncle in the
Insihg to hid yougoad-night.
udget,ef letters; which I shall get'
better in m3'• inn!: rOoin,"';
Ont4Oki4eally• see' to them now ?" shb
st!(,WhY., it is not half a holiday if
***follows you here." ,
014014ngdn her voice made him look at
Hessav that she was
eeeellected that Carlo had
eeltspoken to °her through dinner, and
toink leaped to the conclusion that
rehad been a quarrel between the
k,
"1 have along letter from Kate, which
perhaps You'll like to see," he said. "She
• ainfiL0lareseeinn.getting, on grandly at the
• North Cape. Tjleir know nothing of your
betrothal mity 1 tell thein the news when.,
• I enieser this , , •
"1 thitikt Will tell 'them myself," she
77*W-her Color -deepening a little.- " I will
:▪ # in a iLflU tO-morrow, if I may.",,
The ,tmais welled up into, her eyes again;
LO turned hastily and drew his attention
to the distant view Of Vesuvius,- with erim-
nori,flamei leaping up, and summer lightning
brightening the sky in the background.
But . Mr.' Witten was toe fond of her to be
put aside • he began to feel really anxious
albeit her &Mire.
",.Dear little *me," he said, gently,
you must forgive an old uncle's anxiety,
but are you quite happy in your betrothal?
0/- Are you quite sure that you have chosen
the happiest life ?"
"Iamsure that I havechosentheonly man
in the werld whom I could love," she said,
recovering herself, and looking up into her
uncle's face with such a sweet, bright,
love -lit smile that he could only inwardly
"retest that no man living was worthy of
her.
"Vet something is troubling you to-
night," he said, uneasily.
" 'Yes " she said, her lips quivering;
4g there something troubling Carlo '• heia
going to talk it over with fathers and—and
1am not quite sures how father will take
111. "s -
Mr. Britton looked grave.
"Dear child, of one thing you may at
least be sure," he said, gently; "your
father cares for nothing but your happiness."
The words fitted in only too well with
her own forebodings.
"Oh, Why will people ,think of nothing
' but -that ?" she exclaimed. "What is hap-
piness to me when Carlo is in the question?
Uncle"—the looked up at him appealingly
—" promise me that whatever happens you
will never think him to blame; there are
• things no outsider can understan. Promise
me that you will always be his friend."
"Well, he must be a cold-hearted person
who could refuse such a petition from such
lips," he said, stooping to kiss her. "Don't
be unhappy, dear little Fran; there never
yet was a betrothal which was all hunshine.
Wait a little, and your clouds will disperse.
Nine o'clock! I must be off to my, desk."
If sleep refused to visit either Carlo or
Francesca that night, it was equally cruel
to Captain Britton. He tossed and turned
until the bedclothes were in a state of
chaotic confusion; he tried' the Window
open, he tried the window shut; he tried a
light, he tried total darkness; he paced the
room, he counted alternate black and white
sheep going through a gate, he ate bread,
he smoked a cigar—in fact, he tried all the
remedies for sleeplessness he had ever
heard of.
At last he give up all thoughts of rest for
that night, and/ began to wonder how his
neighbor was faring; the young Italian's
face haunted him.
Then he began to think of poor little
Francesca, doomed through his angry com-
mand never to see her lover again. No ;
at least he would yield on that poiet, he
would go to see Carlo after breakfast,
would apologise to him for his hastiness,
and permit him to come once more to the
Casa Bella and take leave of Franceeca.
'This idea gave the poor captain a little
relief, but he groaned aloud as he thought
of all the grief in store for his child.
At length he heard the Welcome sounds
of life in the house. The night was over;
Rosetta was banging the door mat vigor-
onsly againat the porch; Dino Was tramp-
ing up and down the marble passages,
fetching and carrying. Presently there was
the refreshing sound of the rap at :his
door, and the aervant's familiar summons,
"Half -past seven, signor, and a fine morn -
in."
Vhe captaib rose more promptly than
•
A
!usual, unlocked his door, and took in his
hot-water can; on the lid there lay an en-
velope directed to him in Carlos hand-
writing. He tore it open • with a sense of
sickening anxiety. \
What was it that brought a sudden mist
before hia eyes? Only a short, manly letter
a letter of apology 4rom the man whom he
.. shadswrongeds
Carlo had forestalled him, and the 'letter
which had coetethe writer so much cost the,
reader yet more. There was very little in
it, with ita careful 'English and neat foreign'
writing; but the words had come straight
from the heart, and they went straight as
an arrow to the heart of the captain.
The Brittons, though so long resident in
Italy, kept English hours and breakfasted
all together at 8 o'clock.
Meanwhile, in the study, the owner of
the Pilgrim was trying to do all in his
power for his pretty niece. He had guessed,
both from her face and his brother's depres-
sion, that there must have been ti quarrel
with young Donati _on the previous , night.
He hoped he mightbe able to set things
straight again before he left, but hp bad no
. idea how serious was the state of affairs.
"Look here, John," he said, closing, the
door of the study, "it lute just struck me,
why shouldn't you all have a trip in the
yacht now she is here? , There will be -
plenty of room for you and the girls; and
young Donati, and a couple of other friends
besides'if you like. Now do you think of
it, for it quite vexes me that the Pilgrim
should be down here all to no purpose.'
"You are very good," said Captain Brit-
ton, hesitatiligly ; "for myself there is
nothing 1 should•so much like; indeed, I
must get away somewhere; I feel quite
knocked up with this tiresome affair."
"What affair ?"
"Why, I meant to have told you all
about it to -day. Poor little Francesca's
engagement is broken off !"
"Dear me! how is that? You don't
mean to say he is tired of her already ?"
"No, that's the worst of it; the fellow
is desperately in love with her still, but I
have had to put a stop to it. I never was
so disappointed in a. man in my life."
a grave affair," said Mr. Britton,
thoughtfully, " for I fncer little .Fran's
heart is quite given away. • S
"That is the i miserable part of ,its • I
Wish she had never seen Diihati ! I wish I
had never' come to this place !" and the poor
captain sighed heavily.
"Bub have you • not; 'perhaps, been a
trifle hasty ?" said his brother, remember;
ing the promise he had inade to Francesca
on the previous night. "Though starting
with plenty of insular prejudice against the
man, .1 wae very much struck with him yes-
terday. There ' is something noble about
his face. Surely he can't be guilty of any
great effense.?" .
"He is guilty of the greatest offence pos-
sible ; he is,guiIty of an utter want of com-
mon sense,' said the captain, angrily. "1
thought we had made half an Englishman
of -him, but I might have known that with
his Italian blood and his foolish tadical
ideas we should, sooner -or later, fall foul of
each other." . •
"You are surely not going to break off
the engagement because of political differ-
ences ?" said Mr. Britton; getting quite on
to the wrong tack.
"Mere opinions are nothing to me," said
the captain, "but when the fellow acts—
acts upon kis. insane ideas—comes to me
and deliberately tellme that he has taken
a course which will make his marriage with
Francesca out of the question for an indefin-
ite time what can you expect me to say ?"
"1 don't wonder you were Very much
vexed about it." i
" Vexed ! -I was never in such a heat n
my life.", ',Wrong as the fellow was, I am
bound to apologize to him for what I said.
I'll not shirk that, though I do believe the
mere sight of him will put me out of temper
again."
"You think there is no hope, then, of
setting matters straight? Surely you would
submit to almost anything rather than put
Francesca to so much pain. What if her
lover is a little high-flown in his notions?
Anything is better than callousness and
indifference."
, " I can't explain it all to you, for did I
do so I should break Donati's confidence ;
but soon you will see for yourself what line
he has taken up, and then you will see that
my anger is at least excusable. To permit
the engagement to go son is out of the ques-
tion while he still keeps to his resolution;
Miss Claremont, I am sure, would agree
with me. He is deliberately choosing a
dareer which is bound to degrade him—he
is taking the high -road to helL" ,
The captain was working himself up into
wrathful indignation again. Mr. Britton
could only imagine that Donati had avowed
his , connection with some secret political
society'such as he believed to exist in Italy.
He saw that it was useless to attempt any
further remonstrance.
"Then, if this is really quite an end,',
he said, unhesitatingly, "would Nt not be
doubly desirable that you should 11 leave
the neighborhood for - a time? Take a
month's cruise in the Pilgrim. There is no
chance of my using her again till August" ,
"1 wish you could have been with ,us
too," said the captain, with a sigh, "Must
you really go off at once ?"
"1 must be eff this evening; there's no
help for it," said Mr. Britton. "1 would
give much to be with you, but this busi-
ness will bear no delay. I feel like a school-
boy cheated of his holiday. But look, let
us decide this matter while Captain Gra- 1 I
horn is here. When would • you like to '
start ?" f
"To -morrow. No; to -morrow Count
Carossa dines With us; but on Thursday -
1 really think we might etart on Thurday.
It's very good of you, George, to propose it
You've no idea what a relief it will be to
me, for we are such near neighbors to
Donati that it would be very ' unpleasant to i
be here. . ,
" Well, that's settled, then," said Mr.
Britten. "I'll go and tell Graham to make
preparation for you. He will be enchanted a
to have you on board." t
CHAPTER XIII.
Captain Britton had seldom felt more ill
at ease than when he walked that morning i
up to the door of the Villa Bruno. A
sallow, wrinkled old servant, with a gay
scarlet neckerchief, was polishing the door- a
handle • she nodded to him cheerfully as he
approached.
"Good -morning to you signor ; walk in.
You'll find the master in the salotto. "
She made no sign of leaving her door- a
handle and duster, and indeed the captain f
had long age asked leave to walk into his
neighbor'a house without ceremony, and
the Signora Donati and Carlo, though
liking his unheralded intrusion, had been
far too courteous to return a negative to the
tactless requgat Recrossed the vestibule,
and was about to enter the =lotto, when a
sound of voices within made him pause,
heeitate a moment, aod then go instead
intcran adjoining room
He had recognized the voice of Guido
Donati, and gueesed correctly that the uncle
had driven over in hot haste from Naples
on learninghis nephew's startling plan.
That he was exceedingly annoyed could be
gathered from the vehement and extra-
ordinarily rapid utterance, which reminded
the captain of Carlo's tirade on the pre-
ceding night. At last the violent harangue
came to an end, and Carlo's voice was
heard. It was low but dietinet, and the
captain could not avoid hearing the words:
"1 am sorry to vex you, uncle, but my
mind is made up."
"Madonna Santissima ! it is mede up,
i
is it," said the other, furiously. ' Then
mine, too, is made up; and I am, sorry to
vex you but not o penny of mine shall you
ever inherit. Do you understand ?"
There was a silence, but Captain Britton
could well imagine the expressive gesture
which Carlo would make.
" Diavolo !" cried the uncle. "You
take it calmly. You think you will live
comfortably enough on that voice of yours,
and laugh at the rich old uncle. You will
tell a different tale a few years hence, my
fine fellow, whenyou have a wife and chil-
dren to support.',
"1 than never marry," said Carlo, speak-
ing more shortly than the captain had ever
before heard an Italian speak.
"What !", cried Uncle Guido. "Then
you have thrown over your betrothal for
this mad scheme? An apoplexy on you!
I'll have no more to do with such a fool ;"
and with that he strode out of the room.
The captain only -waited till he was sure
the angry man bad really gone, and then he
knocked at the door of the sa,lotto. Nothing
but a conscientious sense of duty could have
induced him to face at that moment. his
guest of the previous evening • but there
was a certain rugged loyalty about Frances -
en's father, and he walked sturdily into the
room; bracing himself up to make the neces-
sary apologyeeesCarlo was standing at the
side of the window; the sunlight fell full
upon him, and revealed to the captain a
very different face to the one 'which had
haunted him throegh the night—a face
worn with suffering, but strong and resolute,
spite of its haggard look.
"1 beg your pardon for intruding, but
the servant told me to come in," began the
captain, approaching him.
Carlo turned with an articulate excla-
mation, the blood rush his face, and a
look of distress dawnedis eyes ; he was
tired out with all he had een through, and
felt wholly unequal to another stormy dia-
cussion.
But he welcomed his visitor with native
ceremoniousness, betraying only by addi-
tional courtesy any remembrance of the
quarrel. The captain rementbered the letter
of the morning, and all his kindly feelings
returned to him, as he said, heartily:
"Carlo, I have come to apologize for the
words which escaped me yesterday. I
regret them more than I can tell you. You
had every excuse for your anger.'
Carlo grasped his hand. 'No, no," he
said quickly, I was very much to blame.
I am glad, sir—it is a great relief, to me—
that last night was not our parting. I am
grateful to you for coming here to day."
I must also apologize for having inad-
vertently overheard some Of your uncle's
words," said the captain, who felt very un-
eomfortable when he remembered his invo-
luntary eavesdroppine.
"1 knew Uncle Guido would be very
much against this plan," said Carlo; and as
he spoke he threw himself wearily into a
chair facing Captain Britton's.
The captain was struck by the look of ex-
treme physical exhaustion both in the face
and the attitude; he began to realize the
difference between his own physique and
that of the Italian, and faintly to under-
stand that Carlo had a greater capacity for
feeling pain than he had himself.
"Did you realize that this scheme of
yours—this acheme which 1 still most
strongly disapprove—would cost you so
dear ?" he asked abruptly. ‘ Did you think
your uncle would have disinherited you ?"
"1 didn't think about the money at all,"
said Carlo, "but I knew he would be
annoyed." •
'" But does this make no change in your
feeling? Are you willing to lose every
single thing you possesa, and even toeforfeit
the respect of your friends, for the sake of
this plan?" 0
" Yes," he said, simply ; " I am willing,
air."
When he had spoken he let his head drop
wearily on to his hand; he was calm with
the calm of blank bereavement; for, like
the princesa in the poem, he had found that
"Not to fear because all is taken
Is the loneliest depth of human pain.
The captain sighed. He was not angry
now, only very much annoyed at the im-
possibility of inducing one bereft ofcom-
mon sense to see reason.
" You make light of the loss of income,"
he said at length; but how will you fare
supposing you fall ill ?"
Carlo looked up with anodd sort of smile.
" Well, you will think me unpractical,"
he said; "but I have never been ill in my
ife, and I had not considered that "paliti-
bility. However, my salary is a tolerably
air one for a novice, aid, if the worst comes
to the worst, there are always the hos-
pitala."
"Carlo," broke in the captain, " I ca.,n't
bear to think of one who has led the life
you have led going out into • such a world!
What :would your poor mother have said to
t 4"
thing,„and there are shocks which it will
not son:rive.
"There is one other thing I wish to say,"
said Captain Britton, rising, "and that is,
that if you with you may have one more
interview with Francesca."
Carlo sought eagerlyat this boon, and the
captain euggested that he should. return
-witichita to Casa Bella. -
"Does she know of —" he hesitated
how to put it, "of your decision ?"
"1 have not spoken to her about it, but
I know she infers it," said the captain,
rather eoldly.
Carlo paced the room for a minute, strug-
gling with his emotion; he was not sure
whether he had strength to meet Francesca
and tell her with his own lips that all was
over between them.
"If you wish to see her we had better
come at once," said the captain. "My
brother is unexpectedly called back to Eng-
land, and we have much to see to to -day.,,
He was vexed that Donati did not show
more gratitude for the concession he had
made, for he was a man who liked to be
thanked, and it had not been easy for him
to retract what he had first said. Some-
thing in, his tone stung Carlo ; he drew
himself together. " Ebbene, signor," he
said, gravely, forgetting his English, as he
'often did when nsuch inoved, and recover-
ing it with an effort. "If you will, permit
it, I will accompany you."
They walked away from the Villa Bruno
in silence, Carlo thinking of the captain':
words, "We have much to see -to to -day.
How calmly he classed the supreme struggle
of his life, the parting that was death to
him, with the Trivial households, commotion
caused by Mr. Britton's journey.
But once back in his own house the cap-
tain's kinder feelings returned; he took
Carlo to the Rose -room, then held out his
hand cordially.
"This had better be our final parting,"
he said, "1 leave home on Thursday.
Good-bye, Carlo. Should you even now see
fit to give up this foolish scheme I should
be quite willing to reconsider matters."
"My mind is made up, sir," said Carlo,
turning sadly away.
"So it appears. Well, I will send Fran-
cesca. to you."
He closed the door; And Carlo with a
choking feeling in his throat, looked round
the dear, familiar room, the very untidiness
of which breathed of Francesca. The
Dying Gladiator " for Clare reposed peril-
ously on a shaky pile of books; a kitten
was worrying a ball of red wool on the sofa;
and a sock in process of knitting, which he
knew had been 'intended for him, lay at a
little distance on the floor. He turned
to the window and looked out at his
old friend Vesuvius with its cloud of smoke,
and at the glimpses of blue sea visible here
and there between the trees. Then with an
aching consciousness that these were left to
him, but that he should never more stand in
that little room, he turned and looked round
it, as though he wished to stamp forever on
his mind all its girlish decorations,
all its familiar details. But the
sound of footsteps without roused
him and dispelled his calm; the door
opened, and Francesca came quickly forward
to greet him, she 'always entered a room
more quickly, yet more gracefully than
other peoplesbut new she almost ran toward
him; she wanted him not to notice her
wan, tear -stained face.
" If, however, in one sense love is blind,
in another it is all -observant ; in one glance
he had read all, and in that glance there
came to him the sharpest of his suffering.
Stilling the sobs that rose in his throat,he
held her in a long, close embrace, but to
speak was impossible; and though there
was comfort and rapture in her presence
yet there was also anguishwhich threatened
to unman him. At length he put her
gently from him, and turned away that he
might fight down his emotion. For a few
minutes there was silence, then he came and
sat beside her on the Sofa, and, putting his
arm round her, drew her head down on to
his shoulder.
"Carina," he said, and the mellow bary-
tone voice was firm, yet terribly sad, "your
father would not let me see you last night,
but to -day he allows me this one more meet-
ing with you. He said he had not spoken
to you, but that you knew what had passed
between us."
--
"Yes," she said, her tears raining down
quietly; "1 knew it must be so when I
heard you go."
They talked sometimes in English, some-
times in Italian, as had been their custom
ever since childhood.
".Darling," he said, tenderly, "7 am
bound to obey your father's decree; there
conld be no right betrothal for us without
his consent, and so you stand free once
more. You must try, carina, not to let
these three short weeks spoil your life ; you
will try, my own, my darling, for it would
break my heart if I thought I had ruined
your happiness. .
" Love ought not to Weaken us," she
said tremulously, for in her heart she felt
that apart from Carlo she should be like
a rudderless boat. "These three weeks
Ought to give me courage for the rest"
There was, indescribable sadness in the
last two words.
"Ah, darling 1" cried Carlo, passionately,
"don't speak of your beautiful young life
like that !"
And then he was silent again. All the
strength and ardor of their mutual love
seemed to- rise up against the captain's
decree ; if for the present they were fain to
obey it and to part, yet hopes for the future
would rise ; perhaps each intuitively knew
what was in the other's heart, but no words
passed between them; indeed, when Carlo
did speak it was almost ae if he wished to
reason away any brightness which Might
hover oyer their future.
"You see, my darling," he said, "even
should this immediate danger no longer keep
Carlo's face lighted up as if the suggestion mm
had given him some uneePected comfort.
"At least our dead understand us," he
aid, fervently; "they know that I am
rying to keep my promise."
The captain felt that his small stock of i
patience would not last much longer, and i
Carlo, glancing at him, saw that their part.
ng, though peaceable, would be final; he
knew intuitively that although the captain
had taken hack some of his harsh .worda, he
till regarded him as at any rate a self -
deceived deceiver—a man who, under the c
cloak of duty, veiled his craving for change
and excitement—or, at best, as an enthusi-
ast who could but be despised for giving up c
olid realities for feoLsh dreams. Their
riendship was at an end; for though love
in undying, friendship is quite a different
e from you, even if Nita no longer needed
e, I shall have cut myself Off from you
ope ess y , we must facc that. I shall by
that time, if I succeed at all, be to the
world Donati the singer, and your father
Would certainly not choose me for his son -
n -law. Then, again, Uncle Guido has dire,
nherited me, so that if I gave up the stage
I should be penniless and more or less ue-
fitted for work as an advocate."
" Has:he indeed disinherited you? Oh,
Carlino, what troubles you have had '
Don't let me be another, darling. See, I'll not
ry any more; we must think of what is still
eft us.' The worat they can do to us is to
keep us -apart; they can't kill our love, they
an't check our prayers for each other; the
best part, the highest part, no one can med-
dle with."
Hp held her closely, morteuring tender
•
a
Italian words of endearment; and the clock
on the mantel-picce ticked en inexorably.,
measuring all too quickly the time which,
when • they were parted, would move with
leaden feet. Rosalind should surely have
eaid "parting lovers" rather than a "thief
going to the gallows" when asked, " Who
gello_pes Time withal?" And still they
lingered' Over the sweet, unwrita.ble talk
till the clock relentlessly atruck 12, and
roused them to the recollection of the outer
world.
Then Francesca dreiv off her engagenient
ring, and placed it in his hand.
" There Carlo," she said, steadily, "I
give you back thring and your troth, and
I will obey my father,and will neither hear
from you nor write toyou ; but more than
that no woman can peomise, for love is nal
made and unmade to order."
Carlo put on the ring, which from a token
of union had now become changed to a token
of separation. He was too heart -broken to
speak, and after a long pause it was Fran-
cesca who at length broke the silence.
Tell me a little more of the sort, of life
you shall live," she said, gently.
So he told her all that he knew, which
was little enough; how he should live with
the Merlinos, try to win his sister's love.
study hard for his profession, do his best to
be a credit to Piale.
"And you ?" he asked. "There will be
new neighbors for you at Villa Bruno but
it is hardly likely that it will be used by
another occupant except during the sum-
mer menthe.'
"Ah ! will it be let ? " asked Francesca.,
her eyes filling. " Well, I hope we shall
not know the people who take it. For the
rest, darling, you can picture me as living
the old life, going into Naples on Sunday.
teaching Silryl, rowing with Floresta,no. But
for this next month we are to go for a eruies
in the Pilgrim, and perhaps next year I may
go to England."
" You would like to be with Clare?"
" Yes ; though I suppose father will not
like me to tell her now of these three weeks,
and it will be hardthat she should never
know. Carlo, why should not you go to see
Clare when you are in Eugland ?"
He shook his head.
"She would disapprove too strongly of
my change of professions," he said; "and
it is not a change that I can explain to all
the world. Then, too, she lives in your un-
cle's house, and after what has happened
he would hardly care to have me there.
" Uncle George likes you Very much."
said Francesca, quickly. ,
Carlo did not reply, but he thought
differently. It was not then, however, that
he could care to discuss so trifling a matter;
time was passing, and he knew that Capt..
Britton must already be expecting him to
go. The thought broke down all his self-
control; his calmness gave place to a,
passionate outburst of love and grief, which
recalled to Francesca his sudden change in .
the belvedere when he had first asked for
,her love.
She clung to him. now as she bad done
then, but it was not of love and present bliss
which she spoke. .
"Patience, Carlo mzio patience, she
whispered. "It is, after all, that which we
need." "
The word brought back to him the recol-
lection of his dying father, and calmed the
tumult of feeling. He held her sweet face
between his hands, looked long into those
pure eyes, and grew strong once more.
" Pazienza P he murmured, clasping her
again in his arms. "God have you in His
keeping."
At 'the gr te of Casa Bela, Mr. George
Britton, much to his dismay, chanced to en-
counter the owner of Villa Bruno, quite the
last nen he would have chosen to meet. All
that he could do was to assume that nothing
had happened, and to bid him a courteofte
farewell. He held out his hand.
Carlo turned upon him a face which
haunted the kindly Englishman for many
months to come. But, even in his anguish,
he could not be otherwise than courteous ;-
a look of effort passed over his deathly fea-
tures, and—
" With pale lips
That seemed to motion for a smile in vain,"
he said, as he bowed over the Englishman's
hand, "Buon viaggio, signor A rivederci
CHAPTER XIV.
THE NEW BARITONE.
" &hall spheres hold small fires,
But he loved largely, as a man can Thee
Who, baffled in his love, dares live his life.
Accept the ends which God loves for his own. /-s\
And lift a constant aspect."
—E. B. nnowernee.
• It was a. hot summer morning, and two s
ragged little. Neapolitans were sauntering
along the Chiaja ; the elder had flung his
arm caressingly round the °there neck ; the
younger held, in his hand a ragged cap full
of cherries, from which they were eating
contentedly as they walked. A carriaen
rolled past them, and both boys looked up
with sharp, eager eyes. -
" ,Graa Dio !" cried one. .“ Look
yonder goes Comerio, the singer."
"'Tis he himself," said the other, with a
look of interest ; "and in a vile temper, tee;
his brow is black as a starless night!'
"They say he beats his wife," said the,
elder boy with a laugh, which was only
checked by the offer of a ripe red cherry
which hie brother held up to hie mouth.
Meanwhile the carriage had gone,by, and
Comerio was before long, set donwn at the
entrance to Palazzo Forti. He paid the
driver, and then, with no very amiable ex-
pression, made his way up the long stone ,
•
staircase and rang the bell.
A maid servant, whom he had tried un-
successfully to bribe on 'former oceasiona,
opened thedoor to him. ,
"78 Signor Merlino at the theatre ?" he
asked, anxious to know whether the coast
was clear.
"Yes, signor," replied the girL " What
message can I give him ?"
I will give it to Signora Merlino," said
the visitor, preparing to enter.
The maid showed all her teeth in a merry
smile.
" But the signora is still at rehearsal."
" Oren !" exclaimed Comerio, impa-
tiently, "7 might have known. Well, I
will come in then, and wait till they return"
(To be Contemned.)
New York Herald In Poker Parlance --
Father (at foot of stairs) -13111, didn't you
hear me call you two hours ago? Bill—
Yes; bat I can't see you, father. " Wells
then, Plhcome up and, raise you."
Chicago has had a fire iti'ene of hr sky-
sera.pers, but as yet none of the astron-
omers hive' discovered any serious damages,.
Tho plinetts escaped with vuoltigiiii4*
s-