It opened at once, and to his amazement Fulvia stood before him.  She had thrown a black mantle over her head, and her face looked pale and vivid in the fading light.  Surprise for a moment silenced Odo, and before he could speak the girl, without pausing to close the gate, had drawn him toward her and flung her arms about his neck.  In the first disorder of his senses he was conscious only of seeking her lips; but an instant later he knew it was no kiss of love that met his own, and he felt her tremble violently in his arms.  He saw in a flash that he was on unknown ground; but his one thought was that Fulvia was in trouble and looked to him for aid.  He gently freed himself from her hold and tried to shape a soothing question; but she caught his arm and, laying a hand over his mouth, drew him across the garden and into the house.  The lower floor stood dark and empty.  He followed Fulvia up the stairs and into the library, which was also empty.  The shutters stood wide, admitting the evening freshness and a drowsy scent of jasmine from the garden.

Odo could not control a thrill of strange anticipation as he found himself alone in this silent room with the girl whose heart had so lately beat against his own.  She had sunk into a chair, with her face hidden, and for a moment or two he stood before her without speaking.  Then he knelt at her side and took her hands with a murmur of endearment.

At his touch she started up.  “And it was I,” she cried, “who persuaded my father that he might trust you!” And she sank back sobbing.

Odo rose and moved away, waiting for her overwrought emotion to subside.  At length he gently asked, “Do you wish me to leave you?”

She raised her head.  “No,” she said firmly, though her lip still trembled; “you must first hear an explanation of my conduct; though it is scarce possible,” she added, flushing to the brow, “that you have not already guessed the purpose of this lamentable comedy.”

“I guess nothing,” he replied, “save that perhaps I may in some way serve you.”

“Serve me?” she cried, with a flash of anger through her tears.  “It is a late hour to speak of service, after what you have brought on this house!”

Odo turned pale.  “Here indeed, madam,” said he, “are words that need an explanation.”

“Oh,” she broke forth, “and you shall have it; though I think to any other it must be writ large upon my countenance.”  She rose and paced the floor impetuously.  “Is it possible,” she began again, “you do not yet perceive the sense of that execrable scene?  Or do you think, by feigning ignorance, to prolong my humiliation?  Oh,” she said, pausing before him, her breast in a tumult, her eyes alight, “it was I who persuaded my father of your discretion and prudence, it was through my influence that he opened himself to you so freely; and is this the return you make?  Alas, why did you leave your fashionable friends and a world in which you are so fitted to shine, to bring unhappiness on an obscure household that never dreamed of courting your notice?”