"I trust you," said she, at last. "And since you are going to-morrow,
God bless you. You are going in a good cause."
She held out her hand as she rose to leave him, and he bent over it and touched it with his lips, as he would have kissed the hand of his mother. Then, skirting the little assembly of people, Anastase went back towards the piano, in search of Donna Faustina. He found her alone, as young girls are generally to be found in Roman drawing-rooms, unless there are two of them present to sit together.
"What have you been talking about with the princess?" asked Donna
Faustina when Gouache was seated beside her.
"Could you see from here?" asked Gouache instead of answering. "I thought the plants would have hindered you."
"I saw you kiss her hand when you got up, and so I supposed that the conversation had been serious."
"Less serious than ours must be," replied Anastase, sadly. "I was saying good-bye to her, and now—"
"Good-bye? Why—?" Faustina checked herself and looked away to hide her pallor. She felt cold, and a slight shiver passed over her slender figure.
"I am going to the front to-morrow morning."
There was a long silence, during which the two looked at each other from time to time, neither finding courage to speak. Since Gouache had been in the room it had grown dark, and as yet but one lamp had been brought. The young man's eyes sought those he loved in the dusk, and as his hand stole out it met another, a tender, nervous hand, trembling with emotion. They did not heed what was passing near them.
As though their silence were contagious, the conversation died away, and there was a general lull, such as sometimes falls upon an assemblage of people who have been talking for some time. Then, through the deep windows there came up a sound of distant uproar, mingled with occasional sharp detonations, few indeed, but the more noticeable for their rarity. Suddenly the door of the drawing-room burst open, and a servant's voice was heard speaking in a loud key, the coarse accents and terrified tone contrasting strangely with the sounds generally heard in such a place.