"Dearest, I wrote to the Capitol immediately on receiving your
letter, and to-morrow morning I will go down myself to see that
everything is in train. I don't yet know how many days are
necessary to the preparations, but earlier than Thursday it would
not be wise to fix the event, seeing that Wednesday is the day of
the great mass meeting in the Coliseum, and, although the police
have proclaimed it, I have told the people they are to come. There
is some risk at the outset, which it would be reckless to run, and
in any case the time is short.
"Good-night! I can't take my pen off the paper. Writing to you is
like talking to you, and every now and then I stop and shut my
eyes, and hear your voice replying. Only it is myself who make the
answers, and they are not half so sweet as they would be in
reality. Ah, dear heart, if you only knew how my life was full of
silence until you came into it, and now it is full of music!
Good-night, again! "D. R.
"Sunday Morning.
"Just returned from the Capitol. The legal notice for the
celebration of a marriage is longer than I expected. It seems that
the ordinary term must be twelve days at least, covering two
successive Sundays (on which the act of publication is posted on
the board outside the office) and three days over. Only twelve
days more, my dear one, and you will be mine, mine, mine, and
all the world will know!"
It took Roma a good three-quarters of an hour to read this letter, for
nearly every word seemed to be written out of a lover's lexicon, which
bore secret meanings of delicious import, and imperiously demanded their
physical response from the reader's lips. At length she put it between
the pillow and her cheek, to help the sweet delusion that she was cheek
to cheek with some one and had his strong, protecting arms about her.
Then she lay a long time, with eyes open and shining in the darkness,
trying in vain to piece together the features of his face. But in the
first dream of her first sleep she saw him plainly, and then she ran,
she raced, she rushed to his embrace.
Next day brought a message from the Baron:
"DEAR ROMA,--Come to the Palazzo Braschi to-morrow (Tuesday)
morning at eleven o'clock. Don't refuse, and don't hesitate. If
you do not come, you will regret it as long as you live, and
reproach yourself for ever afterwards.--Yours,
"BONELLI."