On my road to the hotel I stopped at the telegraph-office and dispatched the news of Stella's death to Guido Ferrari in Rome.

He would be surprised, I thought, but certainly not grieved--the poor child had always been in his way.

Would he come back to Naples to console the now childless widow?
Not he!--he would know well that she stood in very small need of consolation--and that she took Stella's death as she had taken mine--as a blessing, and not a bereavement.

On reaching my own rooms, I gave orders to Vincenzo that I was not at home to any one who might call--and I passed the rest of the day in absolute solitude.

I had much to think of.