"Think!" said Giovanni, amazed. "Do you not know it?"

"Perhaps!" answered Annunziata, still fondling his hair.

Giovanni threw his arms about her waist, an ample, healthful waist, free from the restraints of corsets and the cramping devices of fashion. As he did so the sound of footsteps was heard without, and he had scarcely time to leap to his feet when Espérance entered the room.

Massetti was confused and his friend noticed the fact. He also remarked that Annunziata was slightly flushed and seemed to have experienced some agreeable agitation. Espérance instantly leaped to a conclusion. Giovanni's flirtation with the fair flower-girl had gone a trifle too far, had assumed a serious aspect. He would interfere, he would remonstrate with him. It might not yet be too late after all. Annunziata was a pure and innocent creature, unused to the ways of the world and incapable of suspecting the wickedness of men. She was on the point of falling into a deadly snare, on the point of being wrecked upon the most dangerous shoal life presented. Her very purity and innocence would make her an easy victim. Giovanni was not wicked; he was merely young, the prey of the irresistible passion of youth. Annunziata's surpassing loveliness had fired his blood, had driven him to the verge of a reckless action, a crime against this beautiful girl that money could not repair. This crime should not be committed, if he could help it, and he would risk the Viscount's friendship to save him from himself. Giovanni could not marry the humble peasant girl; he should not mar her future.

When Espérance came into the chamber, his presence recalled Annunziata to herself and also dampened Massetti's ardor. The girl arose and, smiling at Espérance, tripped blushingly away. Giovanni was flushed and somewhat angry at the intrusion at the critical moment of his love making. Espérance's face was grave; he felt all the weight of the responsibility he was about to assume.

"Giovanni," said he, in a measured tone, "I do not blame you for being fascinated by a pretty, amiable girl like Annunziata Solara, far from it. She is certainly a paragon of beauty, a model of rustic grace, a very tempting morsel of rural virtue and innocence. She is well fitted to turn the head of almost any young man--I freely acknowledge that. It is pardonable to wish to enjoy her society--nay, a harmless flirtation with her is, perhaps, not censurable; but that is the utmost length to which a man of honor can go! Remember she has a reputation to lose, a heart to break!"




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