His voice rose and fell in impa.s.sioned cadence, his eyes burned into hers, how was she not to believe him? How was she to refuse the succour so timely offered, seemingly so disinterested? Still she made an effort.

"I must think it over, you must go away and let me think--oh, don't imagine I do not recognise your generosity--but I cannot think it right for me to take advantage of it."

"Ragna," he said solemnly, "this means more to me than you think. I told you that my life without you would be worth nothing to me. I give you my word of honour that if you refuse I will kill myself--I can't live without you. I mean what I say and I always speak the truth. When I was a little boy in the _collegio_ Cardinal Ferri who was the head-master used to call me up when there had been any mischief, and say to me: 'Tell me the straight of this, Valentini, you are the only one I know who always speaks the truth!' and I would weep, I would struggle, but I had to tell the truth, and I did. And remember, Ragna, if you marry me, I will be a brother to you, dear, it will be enough for me just to have you near me, to feel your sweet presence in the house, to have your society always:--I will not ask for more unless you give it of your own accord."

"Give me time," said Ragna desperately, "give me time to think it over."

"Very well, I will give you until to-morrow at this hour. I shall come for my answer,--and if it is not 'yes,' you know what will happen, I swear it!" He released her hands and she pa.s.sed them over her face.

"Till to-morrow," she said, "that is not much time."

"It is enough,--and it is too long for a man to wait for his death sentence or for the gift of life. Oh, Ragna, I do love you so! It must be yes."

"Now you must go," she said.

"Don't send me away, dear,--here at least I can see you, I am with you, life is possible. Let me stay a little longer!"

"No, you must go now, I can't think clearly with you here. If you want your answer to-morrow you must go now."

"I will go then, dear, since you wish it--see how obedient I am! You can do anything with me, anything, Ragna darling! Give me one kiss then and I will go?"

He bent over her but she turned her head away.

"No, not that! and you said in any case that you would be content to be a brother to me."

"But you would let a brother kiss you! Just one, darling!"

"No," she said firmly and he saw that it would be unwise to insist.

"As you will, then, dear,--see, again I yield to your wish, and to-morrow you will give me my answer--remember what it will mean to me and to you."

He rose and slowly crossed the room and, as he reached the door, turned with the one word,

"Remember!"

Left alone, Ragna felt overwhelmed by the unexpectedness of the turn her affairs had taken and torn with doubt as to the course to pursue. She did not question Egidio's sincerity, had she not seen the tears in his eyes as he pleaded with her? And besides what ulterior motive could he possibly have? She was consumed with grat.i.tude for his generosity, the offer of his name and protection to a girl in her position--to her it would mean salvation. Marriage with a man who knew all and in spite of it loved her still, would be a haven of refuge, it would save her reputation and give her child the advantage of a father's name. But could she accept the offer, could she accept the charity of it? True, Egidio had put it as a benefit to be conferred still more on him than on her--but even so, could she accept? With her woman's knowledge of the facts of life and marriage, could she be his wife? She did not love him and the thought of submitting to his kisses and caresses sickened her with physical repugnance--but then he had said he would be a brother, a friend, nothing more, that merely to have her by his side would satisfy him. As a friend she liked him and found him interesting, and his person was not unpleasing apart from that faint underlying sense of physical repulsion she was conscious of in his presence. Then his threat of suicide,--he meant it, she could see that! Could she take upon herself the responsibility of driving him to such desperate courses? Could she bear the thought of his blood upon her head in addition to her burthen, heavy enough already, in all conscience? Still marriage, a binding contract involving her whole life and his,--could she honestly bring herself to accept?

She rose and feverishly paced the floor, refusing the refreshment of eggs and milk that Carolina brought her. Oh, why was this decision forced upon her now? The more she thought the more confused did she become. All arguments were in favour of her accepting and she was at a loss to explain her reluctance. Some hidden instinct warned her against it,--but could she in justice to herself, to Valentini, and above all, to the child--could she refuse? He had said that he would love the child as his own, might not the child himself, reproach her some day for bringing him into the world nameless, a b.a.s.t.a.r.d, when it had lain with her to give him an honourable name and position? For the child's sake could she dare to refuse? Surely for his sake, she could fulfill her part of the contract, be an affectionate friend, a faithful and dutiful helpmate, wife in name only? Finally in her perplexity, she decided to lay the case before Ferrati and abide by his judgment in the matter. He, a man of the world, a friend both of herself and of Valentini would know what was right, would counsel her wisely. This decision brought her some measure of calm, but when she was in bed her torment returned, and she spent the night feverishly arguing the pros and cons.

Valentini, on the contrary, slept well, he was entirely satisfied with the trend of his affairs, with the way he had managed the interview and felt quite sure of the girl's ultimate decision. Fru Boyesen's fortune loomed large in his expectant imagination.

CHAPTER II

Ferrati came to Ragna early the next morning, and found her restless and worn, her eyes sunken by the fever of the night. She told him of Valentini's proposal and her doubts, ending with:

"Something tells me that I should not accept; it may only be a foolish fancy, but I feel it very strongly."

"I think," said Ferrati, "that you are overwrought and hysterical by all your self-questioning. The question, as I see it, is simple enough: in accepting you have everything to gain, in refusing everything to lose.

Now the point of the matter is, do you care enough for Egidio to become his wife, or at least do you feel sure of never caring more for another man?"

"I told him that I did not love him," said Ragna, "but he said that made no difference to him, that he was content to take me, feeling merely a friendly affection for him, that he would trust to the future to bring the rest. I should do my best,--grat.i.tude alone would make me do that.

But I don't think I could ever love a man very much again."

"Perhaps," said Ferrati musingly, "that the feeling you have for him is better than love, considering the circ.u.mstances, and you may grow to love him in time; women often do grow to love the men they marry for friendship or by their parents' choice. You are of a steady, serious nature, not subject to caprice,--that is in your favour."

"Oh, I am quite sure at least I shall love no other man, I am done with love,--I have seen what it is!"

Ferrati smiled.

"You have still much to learn, Ragna, and I hope Egidio may be the man to teach it to you."

Ragna smiled in answer, rather bitterly however.

"Then your opinion is?"

"That you should marry Egidio, if you have no more serious reasons against it; I am sure that it will be best for you both--and there will be the great satisfaction to you of having provided for the future of your child,--think of the child."

"I do think of the child, and it is for its sake that I shall accept, since you think it the right thing to do."

"I am sure of it, and I hope the future has great happiness in store for you."

They talked for a little while on indifferent matters, but when he left her, she moved restlessly about taking things up and putting them down again aimlessly. Though the fact of the decision being made, took a great weight from her mind she still felt uneasy and could settle to nothing, dreading Valentini's visit in the afternoon.

A curious sense of embarra.s.sment had kept her from telling Ferrati of the compact between herself and Valentini, to observe only friendly relations leaving the marriage a mere form for the eyes of the world. It was unfortunate that she had not told the Doctor as with his man's knowledge of life and of the fiery temperament of his friend, he would have seen the impossibility of prolonging any such state of affairs, and the mere fact of Egidio's having proposed such a scheme would have aroused his suspicions as to his friend's motives in the matter and his entire sincerity of purpose. Egidio was no Sir Galahad and was not in the least given to idealizing the relations between man and woman, or even capable of conceiving of such a relation apart from the s.e.xual element, and Ferrati knew it.

As it was, he went home very pleased with the way things were falling out, and announced the coming engagement to Virginia who raised her arms in silent amazement, and let them drop limply.

"Not Egidio Valentini?" she said. "Poor girl!"

"Now why do you say that, Virginia?"

"I say 'poor girl' if she is to marry Egidio, that is all. What on earth can induce her to do such a thing?"

"What can she do? Think of her situation, Nin. I consider her fortunate to have found as good a man as Egidio."

"As good a man as Egidio--well--what I wonder is, what has induced him to propose to her. What does he expect to gain by it? She is not rich."

"Now, Nin, you are unjust; you have never liked Egidio, I know, but you must admit that he is behaving most magnanimously. Here is a girl who has been unfortunate, who has no money, and who is about to lose her reputation, he offers her marriage, he gives her his name, he declares himself ready to recognise the child, what more would you have? What better proof of his disinterestedness? I tell you, you have always misjudged Egidio, you let your prejudice blind you."

"Believe me, Rico, there is more in this than meets the eye,--_gatto ci cova_, Egidio is not the man for such a quixotic action. I am sorry for Ragna, I am afraid she will find herself out of the frying pan into the fire."

"I hope at least, that you will say nothing to her to discourage her.

She has had a hard time already to make up her mind--and you must admit that this marriage is her one chance."