“Remember them!” she exclaimed.  “They are my choicest ornaments.  Such a parure is fit for an empress.”

“And an empress of beauty wears them!” I said, lightly.  “But they are mere trifles compared to other gems which I possess, and which I intend to offer for your acceptance.”

Her eyes glistened with avarice and expectancy.

“Oh, let me see them!” she cried.  “If they are lovelier than those I already have, they must be indeed magnificent!  And are they all for me?”

“All for you!” I replied, drawing her closer, and playing with the small white hand on which the engagement-ring I had placed there sparkled so bravely.  “All for my bride.  A little hoard of bright treasures; red rubies, ay—­as red as blood-diamonds as brilliant as the glittering of crossed daggers—­sapphires as blue as the lightning—­pearls as pure as the little folded hands of a dead child—­opals as dazzlingly changeful as woman’s love!  Why do you start?” for she had moved restlessly in my embrace.  “Do I use bad similes?  Ah, cara mia, I am no poet!  I can but speak of things as they seem to my poor judgment.  Yes, these precious things are for you, bellissima; you have nothing to do but to take them, and may they bring you much joy!”

A momentary pallor had stolen over her face while I was speaking—­ speaking in my customary hard, harsh voice, which I strove to render even harder and harsher than usual—­but she soon recovered from whatever passing emotion she may have felt, and gave herself up to the joys of vanity and greed, the paramount passions of her nature.

“I shall have the finest jewels in all Naples!” she laughed, delightedly.  “How the women will envy me!  But where are these treasures?  May I see them now—­immediately?”

“No, not quite immediately,” I replied, with a gentle derision that escaped her observation.  “To-morrow night—­our marriage night—­you shall have them.  And I must also fulfill a promise I made to you.  You wish to see me for once without these,” and I touched my dark glasses—­“is it not so?”

She raised her eyes, conveying into their lustrous depths an expression of melting tenderness.

“Yes,” she murmured; “I want to see you as you are!”

“I fear you will be disappointed,” I said, with some irony, “for my eyes are not pleasant to look at.”

“Never mind,” she returned, gayly.  “I shall be satisfied if I see them just once, and we need not have much light in the room, as the light gives you pain.  I would not be the cause of suffering to you—­ no, not for all the world!”

“You are very amiable,” I answered, “more so than I deserve.  I hope I may prove worthy of your tenderness!  But to return to the subject of the jewels.  I wish you to see them for yourself and choose the best among them.  Will you come with me to-morrow night? and I will show you where they are.”

She laughed sweetly.