"A touch of the heart complaint I should think," etc.
When the manager announced that Signorini Zampieri requested the indulgence of a few minutes before resuming her performance, there was a general expostulation, so much had she endeared herself to every heart. But the manager assured the audience that the lady thanked them for their considerate kindness, but that she was perfectly recovered, and preferred finishing the little that remained of the opera. When she reappeared, the burning cheek and glittering eye deceived many as to the suffering she endured. Her gaze restlessly sought the figure that had caused her emotion, and as she met the person's glance, a shudder passed over her. At first her voice trembled with weakness, but meeting the mocking, sneering triumph in that sarcastic face, the blood boiled in her veins, and trembling with indignation, she startled the audience with the wild burst of scorn she threw into the part she was representing. The stranger at first turned pale with anger and surprise at the surpassing delineation, but the next instant his eyes gleamed with malicious satisfaction, which seemed to chafe the singer to madness.
At the conclusion of the opera, Teresa, with feverish impatience to arrive at home, was hastily leaving the theatre, when she fancied she saw in the front entrance doorway that Mephistophiles-like face, and ordering the coachman to drive to her lodgings as speedily as possible, threw herself back upon the cushions, and repressed a strong inclination to take a certain individual's web of life out of the hands of Fate. In a few minutes she arrived at the hotel, and entering her parlor stood face to face with the stranger, who had risen with the most easy coolness, and advanced to meet her.
"Mille pardons m'amie, for the intrusion, but I have not seen you so long, that I was quite unable to resist the temptation of a call."
Teresa, overpowered with the most painful emotions, sank into a seat and covered her face with her hands. With an expression of savage pleasure, her tormentor approached quite near, and said:
"I beg, my charming friend, that you will not put yourself to the fatigue and trouble of a sentimental reception, for I assure you it will be entirely wasted."
These words roused the young girl from her stupor of agony, and raising her form to its full height, she exclaimed:
"Brandini Villani, it would appear that the just avenging God hath forgotten thee, miserable sinner, but it matters not; eternity, methinks, will be long enough for thy punishment." Then with less passion, but with regal, even awful dignity, she freezingly inquired—"What have you to say?"
For an instant the wretch was intimidated, but noticing the tremor of Teresa's whole frame, and mistaking it for fear, concealed beneath affected scorn, he regained his assurance and tauntingly replied:
"It is a trifling oversight, ma chere, to affect a callous indifference towards me, when I have the charm with a single glance to render you insensible, and to make you tremble at the mere sound of my voice-no, no, Teresa, it will not do. While my presence affects you thus, I know the power to fascinate has not yet deserted me."