"Dearest, I wrote to the Capitol immediately on receiving your

letter, and to-morrow morning I will go down myself to see that

everything is in train. I don't yet know how many days are

necessary to the preparations, but earlier than Thursday it would

not be wise to fix the event, seeing that Wednesday is the day of

the great mass meeting in the Coliseum, and, although the police

have proclaimed it, I have told the people they are to come. There

is some risk at the outset, which it would be reckless to run, and

in any case the time is short.

"Good-night! I can't take my pen off the paper. Writing to you is

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like talking to you, and every now and then I stop and shut my

eyes, and hear your voice replying. Only it is myself who make the

answers, and they are not half so sweet as they would be in

reality. Ah, dear heart, if you only knew how my life was full of

silence until you came into it, and now it is full of music!

Good-night, again! "D. R.

"Sunday Morning.

"Just returned from the Capitol. The legal notice for the

celebration of a marriage is longer than I expected. It seems that

the ordinary term must be twelve days at least, covering two

successive Sundays (on which the act of publication is posted on

the board outside the office) and three days over. Only twelve

days more, my dear one, and you will be mine, mine, mine, and

all the world will know!"

It took Roma a good three-quarters of an hour to read this letter, for

nearly every word seemed to be written out of a lover's lexicon, which

bore secret meanings of delicious import, and imperiously demanded their

physical response from the reader's lips. At length she put it between

the pillow and her cheek, to help the sweet delusion that she was cheek

to cheek with some one and had his strong, protecting arms about her.

Then she lay a long time, with eyes open and shining in the darkness,

trying in vain to piece together the features of his face. But in the

first dream of her first sleep she saw him plainly, and then she ran,

she raced, she rushed to his embrace.

Next day brought a message from the Baron:

"DEAR ROMA,--Come to the Palazzo Braschi to-morrow (Tuesday)

morning at eleven o'clock. Don't refuse, and don't hesitate. If

you do not come, you will regret it as long as you live, and

reproach yourself for ever afterwards.--Yours,

"BONELLI."




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