"No, I am not an angel, Carolina, indeed I am very far from being one,"--she smiled sadly. "Come to see me next Sunday then, and we will see what can be done."

Interrupting the girl's protestations of grat.i.tude and devotion, she freed herself, and walked quickly away, wondering what she should do to carry out her impulsive promise.

"I suppose I am a foolish idiot," she said to herself, "but I simply could not help it. Poor thing--I wonder what I can do for her?"

Instinctively, her thoughts turned to Dr. Ferrati, he would be sure to find some way of arranging the matter. She said nothing to Fru Bjork or Astrid, they would only be shocked, and blame her for her impulsiveness.

Fru Bjork was kind-hearted, but narrow-minded, and in common with many "good" women, would have shunned Carolina and her like, as she would the plague.

Dr. Ferrati arrived a week later than the day he had set. He had travelled by a night train, and chance had it, that he took the same _vaporette_ that carried Fru Bjork and the girls to the Lido. When they got on at the Piazzetta, they hailed him with joy, and bade him bring his campstool to the bow, where they usually sat. When they were all comfortably settled, he put on his pince-nez, and looked at the girls in turn, noting with satisfaction Astrid's delicate bronze colour, so becoming to her fair curls and greenish eyes, but he started at Ragna's pallor, and drawn features. They were speaking of the Lido, and Ragna said:

"The bathing is delightful, especially when there is a little surf, I love to swim through it, to feel the waves buffet me about. But I get tired so soon now."

"But surely, Signorina, you are not bathing?"

"Why not?" asked Ragna, astonished, and the others echoed her.

"It is most unwise for you just now," said Ferrati, adjusting his pince-nez to hide his dismay and embarra.s.sment. "You are anaemic, you are not strong enough--it is most unwise."

"Yes," agreed Fru Bjork, "I have told her so, but she won't listen to me. She really is not at all well. I wish you would advise her, Doctor, indeed I do. The child worries me, what with her pale looks, and no appet.i.te, and headaches and fainting fits."

Ragna anxiously met the Doctor's scrutinizing gaze.

"I wish you would prescribe for me; Fru Bjork is right. I am really not myself," she said simply.

Ferrati skilfully changed the subject and they chatted on gaily enough, until the Lido was reached. The little tram took them across the island, and while the others went to the dressing-rooms to change for the bath, the Doctor and Ragna walked out on to the terrace fronting the sea. They found two chairs, a little apart from the groups of smiling, chattering people, and when they had seated themselves, Ragna opened the conversation.

"Tell me the truth, Doctor, why should I not bathe?"

Ferrati met her question with a searching glance; was she in good faith, or feigning?

"Do you not know, then, Signorina, what is the matter with you?"

"You say I am anaemic, I have headaches, and dizzy spells--" a horrible doubt suddenly thrust itself upwards in her mind. "For G.o.d's sake, Doctor, tell me what it is?"

"Surely you must have an idea--" He hesitated, then in answer to the appeal for frankness in her eyes, he continued in a lower tone.

"Signorina, you are _enceinte_. Is it possible that you have not guessed it?"

Ragna paled, and her head fell back against the wooden support of the awning. Ferrati hastily summoned a waiter, and bade him bring a gla.s.s of cognac, which he made the girl take. The colour slowly crept back to her lips and cheeks; she made one or two efforts to speak, but was only able to swallow convulsively; finally in a husky voice she asked:

"How long have you known, suspected--this?"

"For about two months now--suspected, I say--but when I saw you on the boat, I was sure. Of course I may be mistaken, an examination would be necessary to be quite certain--there are tumours--"

"Will you examine me then--to-day? I must know, I must be sure--Oh, my G.o.d, I never thought of this!"

He gazed at her curiously, half cynically, yet impressed by her sincerity of manner.

"But surely, you must have known? You are young, Signorina, but you are not a child."

Her eyes fell before his.

"I did not know--I never thought of this!" she repeated dully.

His doubting expression faded before the despairing misery of her pale face.

"No," he thought, "she did not know or she could not look like this."

The girl's att.i.tude was not one of discovered shame, but that of a person felled by a sudden blow. She looked dazed, stricken. People in bright summer dress were laughing, and joking all about; some were drinking Vermouth. From the sands below came the voices of happy children, and bathers in gay costumes made merry in the sparkling blue water.

"You are sure, quite sure?" Ragna asked suddenly, in a low, terrible voice.

"I told you that there can be no absolute certainty without an examination. Do not distress yourself so, my child," he added, touched to the heart by her misery, "after all, it may be a false alarm!"

The words seemed to give Ragna strength; though still deadly pale, she rose from her chair, saying:

"Come with me now, then; let us have it over at once. Come!"

"But, Signorina," he remonstrated, "your people, what will they think?"

"I can leave a message for Fru Bjork; I shall say I felt ill, and that you took me home. See! there comes your wife--tell her and she will see the others!"

She was already moving towards the Signora, who was crossing the terrace with her little girls, all three greeting Ferrati with smiles of welcome. The children ran to him, and throwing their arms about him, shrieked with joy.

"Babbo has come! Babbo has come!"

Ferrati embraced them, and put them down; he kissed his wife who was holding Ragna's hand, and said to her,

"Virginia cara, the Signorina has a bad headache, and feels faint, so I am taking her home. Tell the others not to be alarmed; it is only that I think the glare here is too much for her, and she ought not to go all the way home alone."

"You are pale, dear," said the Signora to Ragna. "Will you not come to my room, and lie down? You will be quite cool and quiet there."

"Thank you," said Ragna, "you are very kind, but I think I will go home--I should like to go quite to bed."

"Yes," said Ferrati, "I think you had better go home."

"Enrico is right," said the Signora, "go, cara, I will explain to the others when they come."

Ragna kissed the Signora, and moved off; the bright light dazzled her, she stumbled once or twice, and would have fallen, had not the Doctor been at her elbow. He steered her to the little tram, and at the landing found her a shady place on the vaporetto. Thinking she would be more comfortable by herself, he moved a little distance away, and lit a cigar, being careful, however, to remain within call.

To the end of her life, Ragna never forgot that trip. The little steamer rushed along through the greenish-yellow water, following an endless winding channel marked by groups of piles. The very swish of the bows through the water, seemed carrying her inexorably onward to some untoward fate. She shrank from the imminent certainty, yet longed to know, to be sure. Nothing she thought, could be worse than this horrible state of semi-suspense. A fict.i.tious suspense it was though, for her inner consciousness was aware that Dr. Ferrati had seen the truth; still as long as there was a possibility of doubt, she felt that she must cling to it. Other boats pa.s.sed, gay with people in summer dress, there were _barche_ too, and gondolas with their bright summer awnings. She saw them apathetically, but between them and her, there rose distinct in her mental vision, the slender black-draped figure of Carolina, thrown in despair against the little side-altar. How she had pitied that girl--and now, here she was in like case! A bitter smile wreathed her lips.

"And I thought to forget, to put it out of my life!" she murmured.

The boat was a "diretto" and took them to the Piazzetta without intermediate stops, and there the Doctor put Ragna into a gondola for the remaining distance. The vibrating noonday heat beat down on her through the inadequate awning, she lay back dazed, but half conscious, until the hotel was reached. At last they were in the girl's cool, shaded room; the Doctor made his examination, and withdrew to the balcony, while Ragna dressed herself again; as soon as she was ready, she called him, and turning, he found her standing in the middle of the room.

"Well?" she asked.

"I am sorry, Signorina, but there is no possible doubt."