He closed it after her, and the two were together.

When Aurora entered, Regina’s eyes were fixed upon her face as if they had already found her and seen her while she had been in the other room.  She came straight to the bedside and took the hand that was stretched out to meet hers.  It was thin and hot now, and the arm was already wasted.  Aurora remembered how strongly it had lifted her to the edge of the rock, far away by Pontresina.

“You are very kind, Signorina,” said the faint voice.  “You see how I am.”

Aurora saw indeed, and kept the hand in hers as she sat down in the chair that stood where Marcello had left it.

“I am very, very sorry,” she said, leaning forward a little and looking into the worn face, colourless now that the fever had subsided for a while.

The same bright smile that Kalmon had seen lighted up Regina’s features.

“But I am glad!” she answered.  “They do not understand that I am glad.”

“No, no!” cried Aurora softly.  “Don’t say you are glad!”

The smile faded, and a very earnest look came into the hollow dark eyes.

“But I have not done it on purpose,” Regina said.  “I did not know there was fever in that place, or I would not have sat down there.  You believe me, Signorina, don’t you?”

“Yes, indeed!”

The smile returned very gradually, and the anxious pressure of the hand relaxed.

“You must not think that I was looking for the fever.  But since it came, and I am going from here, I am glad.  I shall not be in the way any more.  That hindrance will be taken out of his life.”

“He would not like to hear you speak like this,” Aurora said, with great gentleness.

“There is no time for anything except the truth, now.  And you are good, so good!  No, there is no time.  To-morrow, I shall be gone.  Signorina, if I could kneel at your feet, I would kneel.  But you see how I am.  You must think I am kneeling at your feet.”

“But why?” asked Aurora, with a little distress.

“To ask you to forgive me for being a hindrance.  I want pardon before I go.  But I found him half dead on the door-step.  What could I do?  When I had seen him, I loved him.  I knew that he thought of you.  That was all he remembered—­just your name, and I hated it, because he had forgotten all other names, even his own, and his mother, and everything.  He was like a little child that learns, to-day this, to-morrow that, one thing at a time.  What could I do?  I taught him.  I also taught him to love Regina.  But when the memory came back, I knew how it had been before.”

Her voice broke and she coughed, and raised one hand to her chest.  Aurora supported her tenderly until it was over, and when the weary head sank back at last it lay upon the young girl’s willing arm.

“You are tiring yourself,” Aurora said.  “If it was to ask my forgiveness that you wished me to come, I forgave you long ago, if there was anything to forgive.  I forgave you when we met, and I saw what you were, and that you loved him for himself, just as I do.”