He saw the hot tears upon her cheeks, therefore slowly he drew her towards him in his strong arms, and impressing one last fervent kiss upon her cold white brow, released her, and with bowed head left the room with a whispered:
“Addio—addio, my own beloved!”
The door closed, and for a moment she stood motionless as a statue.
Then in sudden frenzy, with wild despair in her eyes, she threw herself upon her face on the rose-coloured silk couch, and there burst into a fit of violent sobbing—sobbing as though her young heart would break.
The sun of her life had, at that moment, been suddenly extinguished.
Several years have now brought their changes.
A new King rules in Italy. He has a new entourage and a new Cabinet, but the Princess Luisa stills lives at the Palace, sweet, handsome, yet ever pale and thoughtful.
Her acts of charity and her blameless life have rendered her highly popular in the Eternal City, and when she drives out in one of the royal automobiles the men raise their hats and the populace cry after her, “Viva Luisa! Viva Luisa di Savoia!”
The giddy world of Rome has often wondered why Her Royal Highness, so bright and vivacious, has never married, though her name has frequently been coupled by gossips with that of one or other of the eligible Royal Princes of Europe, notably the Crown Prince of Saxony.
The truth, however, has never leaked out, for his late Majesty, King Umberto, who alone knew his niece’s secret, never betrayed it, even to his Queen.