Giovanni had once told her of his love, and she had silenced him.

He was to tell her again, and she was to accept what he said.

He was to ask her to marry him, and her answer was a foregone conclusion.

It seemed as though this greatest event of her life were planned to the very smallest details beforehand; as though she were to act a part which she had studied, and which was yet no comedy because it was the expression of her life's truth.

The future had been, as it were, prophesied and completely foretold to her, and held no surprises; and yet it was more sweet to think of than all the past together.