One dainty pin-prick well-aimed--and all the barriers of caution and reserve are broken down--we are ready to fling away our souls for a smile or a kiss.
Surely at the last day when we are judged--and may be condemned--we can make our last excuse to the Creator in the word?
of the first misguided man: "The woman whom thou gavest to be with me--she tempted me, and I did eat!" I lost no time that day in going to the Villa Romani.

I drove there in my carriage, taking with me the usual love-offering in the shape of a large gilded osier-basket full of white violets.

Their delicious odor reminded me of that May morning when Stella was born--and then quickly there flashed into my mind the words spoken by Guido Ferrari at the time.

How mysterious they had seemed to me then--how clear their meaning now! On arriving at the villa I found my fiance in her own boudoir, attired in morning deshabille, if a trailing robe of white cashmere trimmed with Mechlin lace and swan's-down can be considered deshabille.

Her rich hair hung loosely on her shoulders, and she was seated in a velvet easy-chair before a small sparkling wood fire, reading.