In the evening at ten I went to the Palazzo Aste. The servant who let me
in told me that Donna Giulia was at her father's, and he did not know
when she would be back. I was intensely disappointed. I had been looking
forward all day to seeing her, for the time in church had been so
short.... The servant looked at me as if expecting me to go away, and I
hesitated; but then I had such a desire to see her that I told him I
would wait.
I was shown into the room I already knew so well, and I sat down in
Giulia's chair. I rested my head on the cushions which had pressed
against her beautiful hair, her cheek; and I inhaled the fragrance which
they had left behind them.
How long she was! Why did she not come?
I thought of her sitting there. In my mind I saw the beautiful, soft
brown eyes, the red lips; her mouth was exquisite, very delicately
shaped, with wonderful curves. It was for such a mouth as hers that the
simile of Cupid's bow had been invented.
I heard a noise below, and I went to the door to listen. My heart beat
violently, but, alas! it was not she, and, bitterly disappointed, I
returned to the chair. I thought I had been waiting hours, and every
hour seemed a day. Would she never come?
At last! The door opened, and she came in--so beautiful. She gave me
both her hands.
'I am sorry you have had to wait,' she said, 'but I could not help it.'
'I would wait a hundred years to see you for an hour.'
She sat down, and I lay at her feet.
'Tell me,' she said, 'all that has happened to-day.'
I did as she asked; and as I gave my story, her eyes sparkled and her
cheeks flushed. I don't know what came over me; I felt a sensation of
swooning, and at the same time I caught for breath. And I had a sudden
impulse to take her in my arms and kiss her many times.
'How lovely you are!' I said, raising myself to her side.
She did not answer, but looked at me, smiling. Her eyes glistened with
tears, her bosom heaved.
'Giulia!'