AFTERWARDS.
"Man seeks pleasure and self--great unforeseen results follow. Man
seeks God and others--and there follows pleasure."--ARNOLD TOYNBEE.
For the next two or three weeks the story of Carlo and Anita was in
every one's mouth; the account of Comerio's vengeance, and the
alarming news of brigandage in the very environs of Naples, created
something like a panic, while, as to Donati's share in the matter,
opinions were divided. Some called him a hero, some a fool, others
remarked cynically that in any case the affair would be a good
advertisement for him, and that now, at any rate, he might be
expected to draw large houses.
Merlino, when he learnt all, made scarcely any comment on what had
happened. He merely wound up the affairs of his Company, and
announced his retirement from the position of Impresario. Only in
regard to Gigi did he show any sign of feeling.
"You'll be kind to the child, Val?" he said, as he bade his
brother-in-law good-bye. "I shall stay in America for a few years
till this scandal has had time to fade in people's minds. But you'll
go to the school and see that Gigi is all right, now and then; won't
you?"
"He shall be like my own child!" said Carlo, warmly. "His holidays
shall always be spent with us."
People were surprised that the new baritone fulfilled his engagement
at the San Carlo that summer. Some called him cold-blooded, others
called him brave and honorable, and both those who praised and those
who blamed flocked to hear him. He went his way, as ever, with
straightforward simplicity, thinking of the past with thankfulness
and of the future with eager hope.
"_Carina_," he said, one afternoon, as he sat beside Francesca in the
familiar old belvedere which had sweet memories for them
both,--"_Carina_, here is work enough for me for months to
come,--offers of engagements all over Europe. Piale wishes to know
which of them we are pleased to accept."
"We?" she said, smiling and blushing.
"You do not think I could go without you?" he exclaimed. "You will
not send me away alone?"
"No," she said, with deepening color; "I don't think you would take
enough care of yourself."
"Darling!" he said, drawing her towards him, "why should we wait any
longer? Let us be married quietly while Mr. Britton and Clare are
still here."
"But they are only here for another week," said Francesca.
"_Ebbene?_" said Carlo, with a world of expression in his tone.
"How could I be ready?" she faltered. "A wedding takes a great deal
of preparation--certainly Flora's did. I must at least have a dress
that is fit for your eyes to look on."
"If you want to dress to please me, I will tell you what to wear," he
said, smiling. "Wear that white dress like a baby's--the one you
wore on the night of our betrothal."
"That old nainsook!" she cried. "Why, Carlo, it is more fit for the
rag-bag than for a wedding!"
He made one of his expressive Neapolitan gestures.
"I should like nothing else so well, and you will see it will wash
and get up in two days' time, and look as good as new. Oh, I am very
learned in such matters now, I assure you."
She smiled, and nestled close to him.
"I will wear anything to please you, _mio caro_! And, after all, we
don't want to be thinking of new dresses just now. All I want is to
go away from everything else for a little while--away with you. Let
us go somewhere among the mountains where there are no people and no
newspapers--nothing but just we two by ourselves!"
He kissed her white forehead.
"_Carina_," he said thoughtfully, "if one did not believe success to
be a sort of sacrament, it would frighten one."
She mused over the old definition in the Prayer-book, and caught his
meaning.
"They said at Merlebank it was useless knight-errantry," she replied;
"but I think they changed their minds when they saw the smile on
Nita's face after all was over. Do you remember what she said about
those days on the yacht? It made me cry, for I never saw till then
how fearful temptation must be."
"She conquered, and is at rest!" said Carlo, steadying his voice with
an effort. "Father Cristoforo told me he never knew one so young who
had so little clinging to life. It is as she would have wished."
For some time he was grave and silent; his mind was full of Nita's
sad story.
"Does it not seem to you more than three years," he said at length,
"since we last sat here together like this? To me it seems like a
lifetime."
"And, oh, Carlo," said Francesca, clinging to him, "I don't know how
it is--but, though so many sad things have come between, I can't help
feeling happier even than long ago! I thought I couldn't be happier
than I was when you first told me you loved me, here in this
summer-house,--but now, Carlo! ... now! ..."
* * * * * *
So, one day in the following week, Francesca put on the old white
dress and her confirmation veil, and Kate twined orange-blossom and
myrtle into a wreath, and Sibyl and Gigi gathered the prettiest white
flowers they could find in the garden, and with infinite pains made
them up into a very original bridal bouquet. Then every one at Casa
Bella drove in to Naples, where Carlo awaited them with Enrico Ritter
at his side; and presently, with Piale, Marioni, old Florestano, and
Sardoni and his wife, for spectators, the two lovers were quietly
married.
"After all," said Captain Britton, when the bride and bridegroom had
driven away, "though, I suppose, a voice like that must be used, yet
I shall always think that Carlo deserved to be something better than
a singer."
"My dear sir," exclaimed Piale, vehemently, "the life of a good
singer is one perpetual course of self-denial! And, I assure you,
we, too, have had our heroes. Must a whole profession be despised
because some of those engaged in it are not all they should be? When
a man like Donati is sent to us, for Heaven's sake let us keep him,
and say, as in duty bound, 'DEO GRATIAS!'"
THE END.