I tried to carry on the conversation in an unconcerned tone; but I was very far from satisfied. I felt no inclination for adventures in which all the risk was taken by the woman, and all the wrong was on my side. It seemed to me that she treated me very inconsiderately in exposing herself thus for my sake to perils and disasters which she would not permit me to meet or avert.
I was so distressed that I remained silent in spite of myself. The signora, having attempted in vain to maintain the conversation, also held her peace. Lila's face continued to wear a terrified expression. We had left the city. Twice I observed that we had reached what seemed a favorable place to stop the carriage and set me down; twice the signora refused in an imperious tone, saying that we were too near the city and that there was still danger of meeting some acquaintance.
For a quarter of an hour we had not spoken a word, and the situation was becoming intensely disagreeable. I was displeased with the signora, because she had involved me, without my consent, in an adventure in which I could no longer proceed at my own pleasure. I was even more displeased with myself for allowing myself to be led into a series of childish exploits of which all the shame must fall upon me; for, even in the eyes of the least scrupulous of men, to seduce or compromise a girl of fifteen must always be considered an evil and cowardly performance. I was on the point of ordering the coachman to stop myself, when, on turning toward my travelling companions, I saw that the signora was weeping silently. I uttered an exclamation of surprise, and, moved by an irresistible impulse, I took her hand; but she abruptly withdrew it, and throwing her arms about Lila's neck, who was weeping also, hid her face on her faithful soubrette's bosom and sobbed as if her heart would break.
"In heaven's name, why do you weep in such heartrending fashion, my dear signora?" I cried, almost falling at her feet. "If you do not wish to send me away in utter despair, tell me if this unlucky adventure is the cause of your tears, and if I can help to turn aside the consequences which you dread."
She raised her head from Lila's shoulder, and replied, glancing at me with something like indignation:
"You must think me a great coward!"
"I think nothing except what you tell me," I said. "But you turn away from me, and you weep; how can I tell what is taking place in your mind? Ah! if I have offended or displeased you, if I am the involuntary cause of your unhappiness, how can I ever forgive myself?"
"So you think that I am afraid, do you?" she rejoined, in a tone at once tender and bitter. "You see me weeping, and you say: 'She is like a little girl who is afraid of being scolded!'"
She wept more bitterly than ever, concealing her face in her handkerchief. I strove to comfort her, I implored her to answer me, to look at me, to explain herself; and, in that moment of confusion and emotion, my feeling toward her was so paternal and friendly that chance brought to my lips, amid the sweet names by which I called her, the name of a child who had once been dear to me. That name I had been accustomed for many years to apply, unconsciously as it were, to all the lovely children whom I chanced to caress. "My dear signora," I said, "dear Alezia——" I paused, afraid that I might have offended her by giving her accidentally a name that was not her own. But she did not seem offended; she looked at me with some surprise and allowed me to take her hand, which I covered with kisses.
Meanwhile the carriage was rolling on like the wind, and before I had had time to obtain the explanation which I sought so eagerly, Lila informed us that the Grimani villa was in sight and that we absolutely must part.