towards the beach, whence the sound of the small waves, breaking gently
under the afternoon breeze, came echoing softly up to the cottage.

The two young people rode in front, in silence; Corbario and the
Contessa followed at a little distance.

"How good you are to my wife!" Folco exclaimed presently, as they
emerged upon the sand. "You are like a sister to her!"

Maddalena glanced at him through her veil. She had small and classic
features, rather hard and proud, and her eyes were of a dark violet
colour, which is very unusual, especially in Italy. But she came from
the north. Corbario could not see her expression, and she knew it.

"You are good to her, too," she said presently, being anxious to be
just. "You are very thoughtful and kind."

Corbario thought it wiser to say nothing, and merely bent his head a
little in acknowledgment of what he instinctively felt to be an
admission on the part of a secret adversary. Maddalena had never said so
much before.

"If you were not, I should never forgive you," she added, thinking
aloud.

"I don't think you have quite forgiven me as it is," Folco answered more
lightly.

"For what?"