"Oliveta! We are cousins."
"I respect your reasons for these changes. Tell me only what you wish."
"Oh, I have nothing to conceal," she said, relieved at his growing
calmness. "They are old family names which I chose when I gave up my
former life. You wonder why? It is part of the story. When Martel died
the Contessa Margherita died also. She could not remain at Terranova
where everything spoke of him. She was young; she began a long quest.
As you know, it was fruitless, and when in time her ideas changed she
was born to a new life."
"You have--abandoned the search?"
"Long ago. You told me truly that hatred and revenge destroy the soul.
I was young and I could not understand; but now I know that only good
can survive--good thoughts, good actions, good lives."
"And is the Donna Teresa here?"
Vittoria shook her head. "She has gone--back, perhaps, to her land of
sunshine, her flowers, and her birds and her dream-filled mountain
valleys. It was two years ago that we lost her. She could not survive
the change. I have--many regrets when I think of her."
"You know, of course, that I returned to Sicily, and that I followed
you?"
"Yes. And when I learned of it I knew there was but one thing to do."
"I was unwise--disloyal there at Terranova." She met his eyes frankly,
but made no sign. "Is that why you avoided me?"
"Ah, let us not speak of that old time. When one severs all connections
with the past and begins a new existence, one should not look back. But
I have not lost interest in you, my friend, I have learned much from
Myra Nell; seeing her was like seeing you, for she hardly speaks of any
one else. Many times we nearly met--only a moment separated us--you
came as I went, or I came in time barely to miss you. You walked one
street as I walked another; we were in the same crowds, our elbows
touched, our paths crossed, but we never chanced to meet until this
hour. Now I am almost sorry--"
"But why--if you have forgiven me; how could you be so indifferent? You
must have known how I longed for you."
Her look checked him on the brink of a passionate avowal.
"Does my profession tell you nothing?" she asked.
"You are a--nurse. What has that to do with it?"
"Do you know that I have been with the Sisters of Mercy? I--I am one of
them."
"Impossible!"
"In spirit at least. I shall be one in reality, as soon as I am better
fitted."
"A nun!" He stared at her dumbly, and his face paled.
"I have given all I possess to the Order excepting only what I have
settled upon Oliveta. This is her house, I am her guest, her pensioner.
I am ready to take the last step--to devote my life to mercy. Now you
begin to understand my reason for waiting and watching you in silence.
You see it is very true that Margherita Ginini no longer exists. I have
not only changed my name, I am a different woman. I am sorry," she
said, doing her best to comfort him--"yes, and it is hard for me, too.
That is why I would have avoided this meeting."
"If you contemplate this--step," he inquired, dully, "why have you left
the hospital?"
"I am not ready to take Orders. I have much to--overcome. Now I must
prepare Oliveta to meet you, for she has not changed as I have, and
there might be consequences."
"What consequences?"
"We wish to forget the past," she said, non-committally. When she
returned from her errand she saw him outlined blackly against one of
the long windows, his hands clasped behind his back, his head low as if
in meditation. He seemed unable to throw off this spell of silence as
they drove to the La Branche home, but listened contentedly to her
voice, so like the low, soft music of a cello.
After he left her it was long before he tried to reduce his thoughts to
order. He preferred to dwell indefinitely upon the amazing fact that he
at last had found her, that he had actually seen and touched her.
Finally, when he brought himself to face the truth in its entirety, he
knew that he was deeply disappointed, and he felt that he ought to be
hopeless. Yet hope was strong in him. It blazed through his very veins,
he felt it thrill him magically.
When he fell asleep that night it was with a smile upon his lips, for
hope had crystallized into a baseless but none the less assured belief
that he would find a way to win her.