Part 30 (1/2)

”Not that I know. Why?”

”It is no matter. I wanted to be sure. Thank you.”

They went upstairs side by side, not even glancing at each other, much more anxious to seem perfectly indifferent than to realise what they felt now that they had met at last.

Marcello stayed ten minutes in the small sitting-room, talking as well as he could. He had no wish to be alone with Aurora or her mother, and since the visit had been pressed upon him he was glad that Folco was present. But he got away as soon as he could, leaving Corbario to his own devices. The Contessa gave him her hand quietly, as if she had not expected him to stay, and she did not ask him to come again. Aurora merely nodded to him, and he saw that just as he went out she left the room by another door, after glancing at him once more with apparent coldness.

He walked quickly through the village until he came near to his own hotel, and then his pace slackened by degrees. He knew that he had felt a strong emotion in seeing Aurora again, and he was already wis.h.i.+ng that he had not come away so soon. The room had been small, and it had been uncomfortable to be there, feeling himself judged and condemned by the Contessa and distrusted by Aurora; but he had been in an atmosphere that recalled all his youth, with people whose mere presence together brought back the memory of his dead mother as nothing else had done since his illness. He was just in that state of mind in which he would have broken away and freed himself within the hour, at any cost, if he had been involved in a common intrigue.

At the same time he had become convinced that Folco had deceived him, for some reason or other which he could not guess, and the knowledge was the first serious disillusionment of his life. The deception had been small, and perhaps intended in some mysterious way to be ”for his own good”; but it had been a distinct deception and no better than a lie. He was sure of that.

He went upstairs slowly and Regina met him at the door of their rooms, and took his hat and stick without a word, for she saw that something had happened, and she felt suddenly cold. He was quite unlike himself.

The careless look was gone from his face, his young lips were tightly closed, and he looked straight before him, quite unconscious that his manner was hurting her desperately.

”Has Settimia been out to-day?” he asked, looking at her quickly.

”I don't know,” she answered, surprised. ”I went for a long walk this morning. She probably went out into the village. I cannot tell. Why do you ask?”

”I wish to know whether she sent a note to Saint Moritz by a messenger.

Can you find out, without asking her a direct question? I am very anxious to know.”

”I will try, but it will not be easy,” said Regina, watching him.

She had made up her mind that the blow was coming, and that Marcello was only putting off the moment when she must be told that he meant to leave her. She was very quiet, and waited for him to speak again, for she was too proud to ask him questions. His inquiry about Settimia was in some way connected with what was to come. He sat down by the table, and drummed upon it absently with his fingers for a moment. Then he looked up suddenly and met her eyes; his look of troubled preoccupation faded all at once, and he smiled and held out one hand to draw her nearer.

”Forgive me,” he said. ”All sorts of things have happened to-day. I have been annoyed.”

She came and bent over him, turning his face up to hers with her hands, very gently. His eyes lightened slowly, and his lips parted a little.

”You are not tired of Regina yet,” she said.

”No!” he laughed. ”But you were right,” he added, almost immediately.

”I knew I was,” she answered, but not as she had expected to say the words when she had seen him come in.

She dared not hope to keep him always, but she had not lost him yet, and that was enough for the moment. The weight had fallen from her heart, and the pain was gone.

”Was it what I thought?” she asked softly. ”Does your stepfather wish to separate us?”

”For a little while,” Marcello answered. ”He says we ought to part for a few weeks, so that I may find out whether I love you enough to marry you!”

”And he almost persuaded you that he was right,” said Regina. ”Is that what happened?”

”That--and something else.”

”Will you tell me, heart of my heart?”

In the falling twilight he told her all that had pa.s.sed through his mind, from the moment when he had seen Settimia's handwriting on the note. Then Regina's lips moved.