That same evening at exactly ten o'clock the engineer Ribera knocked gently twice on the door of Signor Giacomo Puttini's house at Albogasio Superiore. Presently a window above his head was opened, and a little, old, clean-shaven face of "Sior Zacomo" himself appeared in the moonlight.

"Most worshipful engineer, my respects!" said he. "The servant is coming down to let you in."

"That is not necessary," the other answered. "I am not coming up. It is time to start, so you had better join me at once."

Signor Giacomo began to puff and wink hard.

"You must pardon me," he said, in his peculiar dialect, which was a mixture of many elements. "You must pardon me, most worshipful engineer, but I really need——"

"Need what?" said the engineer, somewhat annoyed. The door opened, and the keen and yellow face of the servant appeared.

"Oh! Scior Parento! Sir Relative!" said she respectfully. She claimed I know not what degree of relationship with the engineer's family, and always addressed him thus. "At this hour? Have you perhaps been to see the Sciora Parenta? The Lady Relative?"

The "Lady Relative" was the engineer's sister, Signora Rigey.

Ribera answered shortly: "Oh! Marianna! How are you?" and went upstairs followed by Marianna, carrying the light.

"My respects," Signor Giacomo began, coming towards him with another light. "I understand and recognise the great inconvenience I am causing, but really——"

Signor Giacomo's small, clean-shaven, pink face, rose above an enormous white stock, and a lean little body, buttoned up in a great, black overcoat, and in the convulsive workings of his lips and eyebrows as well as in his troubled eyes, the most comical anxiety was expressed.

"What is the matter now?" asked the engineer, somewhat sharply. He, the most upright and straightforward man alive, had little sympathy with the hesitation of poor, timid Signor Giacomo.

"Allow me," Puttini began, and, turning to the servant, said harshly:

"Begone, you! Go into the kitchen. You will come when I call for you. Go, I say! Why don't you do what I tell you? Where is your respect for me? I command here! I am the master!"

It was the servant's curiosity, her insolent disregard for the orders of her superior, which had provoked this outburst of despotic fury in "Sior Zacomo."

"Whew! What a violent man!" she said, lifting the lamp on high. "There is no need to shout in that way! What do you think of it, Scior Parento?"

"Look here!" the engineer exclaimed. "Would it not be better for you to take yourself off, instead of standing there and jabbering?"

Marianna went away grumbling, and Signor Giacomo began to communicate his most secret thoughts to the worshipful engineer, interlarding his sentences with many buts and ifs, that is and reallys. He had promised to be present in the capacity of witness at Luisa's secret marriage, but now, when it was time to start for Castello, he was assailed by an overpowering fear of compromising himself.

He was "first political deputy," as the highest communal authority was then called. If the worshipful Imperial and Royal Commissary of Porlezza should get wind of this affair, how would he look upon it? And the Marchesa? "A terrible woman, most worthy engineer! A vindictive woman!" Besides he had so many other worries! "There is that cursed bull!" This bull, a bone of contention between the town and the alpador, or tenant of the hill-pastures, had, for the last two years, been a moral incubus to poor Signor Giacomo, who, in speaking of his troubles and trials, always began with "that perfidious servant," and ended with "that cursed bull!" In speaking these words he would raise his small face, his eyes full of pained execration, and stretch out accusing hands towards the brow of the hill which overhung his house, towards the home of that fiendish beast. But the engineer, whose fine, honest features betrayed marked disapproval and a growing contempt for this cowardly little man, who stood wriggling there before him, exclaimed several times impatiently: "Oh, dear me!" as if pitying himself for the poor company he was in. Finally, his patience entirely exhausted, he extended his arms with the elbows turned outwards, and shaking them as if he were holding the reins of a lazy old horse, exclaimed: "What is all this? What is all this? It is absurd! This is the language of a fool, my good Signor Giacomo! I would never have believed that a man like you, a man let us say——"

Here the engineer, being really at a loss for a suitable phrase wherewith to describe his companion, simply puffed out his cheeks, emitting a long-drawn-out rumble, a sort of rattling noise, as if he had an epithet in his mouth which was so big that he could not spit it out. Meanwhile Signor Giacomo, who had turned very red, was protesting eagerly: "Enough! Enough! Pray excuse me! I am quite ready! I will come! Don't get excited! I only expressed a doubt, most worshipful engineer. You know the world. So did I, at one time, but I know it no longer." He withdrew for a moment to reappear again presently carrying an enormously high hat with a broad brim, which had seen Ferdinand enter Verona in 1838, the so-called "emperor's year."

"I feel this sign of respect and satisfaction is fitting," said he.

When the engineer caught sight of the thing, he once more ejaculated his "What is all this?" But the little man, who had a ceremonious spirit, stuck to his point. "It is my duty, my duty!" and he called to Marianna to light them down stairs. When the servant saw her master with that immense "sign of satisfaction" on his head, she gave voice to her astonishment. "Hold your tongue!" puffed the unfortunate Signor Giacomo. "Be quiet!" and as soon as he was out of the door his wrath burst forth. "There is no doubt about it, that cursed servant will be the death of me!"

"Why don't you send her away, then?" the engineer enquired.

Signor Giacomo had already placed one foot on the first step of the narrow lane that leads upwards on one side of the Puttini house, when he was brought to a stand-still by this pointed question, which pierced his conscience like a dagger.

"Alas!" he replied, sighing.

"I understand," said the engineer.

"Besides, what good would that do?" the other went on, after a short pause. "This is the same as that!" This old Venetian saying concerning the unfortunate identity of the two relative pronouns, Signor Giacomo pronounced as an epilogue, and then, puffing loudly, emitted a loud breath, and once more started forward.

Puttini leading and the engineer following, they climbed steadily for a few minutes, up the steep and narrow path, dimly lighted by the moon which was hidden among the clouds. No sound was heard save their slow steps, the thumping of their sticks on the stones, and Signor Giacomo's regular puffing: "Apff! Apff!" At the foot of the narrow stairway leading to Pianca, the little man stopped, removed his hat, wiped away the perspiration with a big, white handkerchief, and glancing up at the great walnut-tree, and the stables of Pianca to which he must ascend, puffed harder than ever.

"By the body of the rogue Bacchus!" he ejaculated.

The engineer encouraged him. "Up with you, Signor Giacomo. It is all for love of Luisina." [E]

Signor Giacomo started on again without a word, and when they reached the stables, beyond which the path becomes less rough, he seemed to forget the stairs, his scruples, the perfidious servant, the Imperial and Royal Commissary, the vindictive Marchesa and the cursed bull, and began talking of Signora Rigey with great enthusiasm.

"There is no doubt about it, when I have the honour of being in the company of your niece, of Signorina Luisina, I assure you I really feel as if I were back into the days of Signora Baratela and the Filipuzze girls, of the three Sparesi sisters from San Piero Incarian, and of many others, whose graces used to charm me, in the old days. From time to time I go to see the Marchesa, and I sometimes meet the girls of to-day there. No—no—no, they do not behave in a becoming manner. They are either sullenly silent or over-talkative. But just look at Signorina Luisina, how easy is her manner with every one! She knows how to behave with young and old, rich and poor, the servant and the priest. I really fail to comprehend why the Marchesa——"

The engineer interrupted him.

"The Marchesa is right," said he. "My niece is neither of noble birth, nor has she a penny. How can you expect the Marchesa to be satisfied?"

Signor Giacomo stopped short, rather disconcerted, and stared at the engineer, blinking his sorrowful eyes.

"How is this? You don't really mean to say she is right?"

"I never approve of acting contrary to the wishes of parents, or of those who represent the parents. But I, dear Signor Giacomo, am an old-fashioned man like yourself, a man of the time of Carlo Umberto, as they say hereabouts. Now, the world wags differently, and we must let it wag. Therefore, having expressed my opinions on this point, I said to my relatives: 'Now do as you like. But when you have decided one way or another, let me know what is to be done, and I shall be ready!'"

"And what does Signora Teresina say?"

"My sister? My sister, poor creature, says: 'If I can see them settled in life, I shall no longer dread death.'"

Signor Giacomo breathed hard, as was his habit whenever he heard that last, unpleasant word pronounced.

"But it is surely not so bad as that?" said he.

"Who can tell?" the engineer replied, very seriously. "We must trust in the Almighty."

They had reached a sharp bend where the narrow path, passing the last of the small fields belonging to the territory of Albogasio, turns towards the first of those belonging to Castello, and winds on, on the left, along the top of a jutting crag, suddenly coming in sight of a deep cleft in the mountain's bosom, of the lake far below, of the villages of Casarico and San Mamette, crouching on the shore as if in the act of drinking. Castello is perched a little higher up, and not far distant, facing the bare and forbidding peak of Cressogno, the whole of which is visible, from the gorges of Loggio to the sky. It is a beautiful spot even at night in the moonlight, but if Signor Giacomo paused there, striking a contemplative attitude and forgetting to puff, it was not because he considered the scene worthy of any one's attention, to say nothing of that of a political deputy, but because, having a weighty argument to expound, he felt the necessity of concentrating all his strength in his brain, and of suspending all other effort, even that of the legs.

"That is a fine maxim," said he. "Let us trust in the Almighty. Yes, my dear sir. But permit me to observe that in our time we were always hearing of prayers being answered, of conversions and miracles. Am I not correct? But now the world is not the same, and it appears to me the Almighty is sick of it all. The world is in much the same condition as our parish church at Albogasio, which the Almighty used to visit once a month. Now He comes only once a year."

"Listen, my good Signor Giacomo," said the engineer, who was impatient to reach Castello. "The Almighty is not to blame because the parish has been transferred from one church to another. However, we will push on, and let the Almighty arrange things as He thinks best."

Whereupon he started forwarded so briskly that presently Signor Giacomo was obliged to stop again, puffing like a pair of bellows.

"Pardon me," said he, "if I yield, in a measure, to that curiosity which is inborn in man. Might one inquire your worshipful age?"

The engineer understood the hidden meaning of his question, and answered in a low tone, with triumphant and ironical meekness—

"I am older than you!"

And he started off again at the same cruel pace.

"I was born in '88, you know," Puttini groaned.

"And I, in '85!" Ribera flung over his shoulder, without stopping. "Now come along."

Fortunately for Puttini they had only a few steps more to go. There was the great wall that supported the consecrated ground about the church of Castello, and there was the narrow stairway leading up to the entrance of the village. Now they must turn into the dark passage below the priest's house, feeling their way along like blind men through this black hole, in which Signor Giacomo's imagination pictured so many treacherous and slippery stones, so many accursed, deceitful steps, that he stopped short, and, resting his clasped hands on the knob of his stick, spoke as follows—

"By the body of the rogue Bacchus! No, most worshipful engineer, no, no, no! Really I cannot. I shall remain here. They will surely come to church. The church is near by. I shall wait here. Body of the rogue Bacchus!"

This last "Body!" Signor Giacomo ground privately between his teeth, like the close of an inward soliloquy concerning the accessories surrounding the exceeding discomfort he was undergoing.

"Wait a minute," said the engineer. A thread of light appeared under the church door. The engineer entered and presently came out again, accompanied by the sacristan, who had been preparing the hassocks for the bride and groom. He now brought to Puttini's rescue the long pole with a lighted taper at the end, which was used to light the candles on the altars. Thus, standing in the church door, he moved the taper along in front of Signor Giacomo's feet as far as the pole would reach, while that gentleman, but ill-satisfied with this religious illumination, groped his way forward, grumbling at the darkness, the miserable, sacred taper, and at him who held it, until at last, abandoned by the sacristan, and seized by the engineer, he was dragged along, much like a pike at the end of a line, and, in spite of his mute resistance, was finally landed on the threshold of Casa Rigey.

At Castello the houses which stand in unbroken line on the winding hill-top, enjoying the sun and the view of the lake far below, all white and smiling on the side towards the open, all dark on the side towards that other row of less fortunate houses, which rise sadly behind them, resemble certain favoured individuals, who, brought into too close contact with misery, assume a hostile demeanour, and press close to one another that, thus united, they may hold the others in check. Among these fortunate ones Casa Rigey is one of the darkest on the side facing the poverty of the common houses, one of the brightest on the side facing the sun.

From the street door a long and narrow corridor leads to a small, open loggia, from which, by means of a few steps, one may descend to the little white terrace which, between the reception room and a high, windowless wall, stretches out to the edge of the hill, looking down into the ravines from which issues the Soldo, looking down upon the lake, as far as the green gulfs of the Birosin and of the Doi, as far as the quiet sweeps beyond Caprino and Gandria.

Signor Rigey, born in Milan of a French father, had been professor of the French language at Madame Berra's boarding school, but he had lost his position there, and most of his private pupils, because it was rumoured of him that he was irreligious. In 1825 he had purchased this little house, and retired to it from Milan, wishing to live economically and peacefully. He had, soon afterwards, married the sister of the civil-engineer Ribera. Dying in 1844 he left his wife with a daughter of fifteen, the house and a few thousand svanziche. [F]

Hardly had the engineer knocked somewhat noisily at the door, when light, swift steps were heard in the corridor. The door was thrown open and a voice neither low nor silvery, but indescribably harmonious, whispered: "What a noise, Uncle!" "Noise indeed!" her uncle replied with mock dignity. "Am I then expected to knock with my nose?" His niece placed one hand over his mouth, and with the other drew him inside; then she saluted Signor Giacomo gracefully, and closed the door. All this was accomplished in the twinkling of an eye, while Signor Giacomo himself was puffing out: "Your most humble servant! I am really delightful——" "Thank you, thank you!" said Luisa. "Pray go in, I have a word to say to Uncle."

The little man went forward, hat in hand, and the young girl tenderly embraced her old uncle, kissing him, pressing her face to his breast, and clasping her arms about his neck.

"Won't that do now?" said the engineer, almost as if to check these caresses, for in them he felt a gratitude which he feared would presently take the form of words. "There, there! That is enough! How is Mamma?" Luisa's only reply was a tightening of her embrace. This uncle was more than a father to her, he was the special Providence of the house, but, in his great and simple bounty, he never dreamed that he had the slightest claim to the gratitude of his sister and niece. Whatever would these poor women have done without him, possessing only that meagre sum of twelve or fifteen thousand svanziche which Rigey had left? As civil-engineer, employed on public works, Ribera enjoyed a good salary. He lived frugally at Como with an old housekeeper, passing his savings on to Casa Rigey. At first he had openly and heartily disapproved of Luisa's attachment for Franco, for it seemed to him that such a union would be but ill-assorted; but the young people being determined, and his sister having consented, he made up his mind to help them in every possible way, keeping his opinions to himself.

"And Mamma?" he repeated.

"She was feeling very well this evening because she was so happy, but now she is agitated, for Franco came about half an hour ago, and told her he has had something of a scene with his grandmother——"

"Oh dear me!" the engineer exclaimed. Whenever he heard of a misfortune befalling any one else he always uttered this expression of self-commiseration.

"No, Uncle! Indeed Franco is right!"

Luisa pronounced these words with sudden warmth. "Yes indeed!" she exclaimed, her uncle having uttered a doubtful "Hm!" "He is perfectly right. But," she added in a low tone, "he says he left home in such a manner that his grandmother will probably discover everything."

"It will be better so," said her uncle, starting towards the terrace.

The moon had set and it was dark. Luisa whispered: "Mamma is here."

Signora Teresa, who was suffering for want of breath, had had herself drawn out into the terrace in her easy-chair, hoping to find relief in the open air.

"What do you say to this, Piero?" said a voice resembling Luisa's in tone, but sweeter and with a tired ring; a voice that seemed to come from a gentle heart which the world has used harshly, and which must yield. "What do you say to this? After all, our precautions will be of no avail."

"No, no, Mamma. We are not sure of that. We cannot say so yet!"

While Luisa was speaking, Franco, who was in the salon with the curate, came out to embrace the engineer.

"Well," said Ribera, extending his hand, for embraces were little to his taste. "What has happened?"

Franco related what had taken place, softening somewhat certain too offensive expressions of his grandmother's concerning the Rigeys, concealing her threat of not leaving him a penny, and blaming his own over-susceptibility rather than the old-woman's ill-nature, and finally confessing that he had purposely let it be known that he intended to remain out all night. This could have no other effect than that of leading his grandmother to an immediate discovery, for she would question him concerning this absence, and his silence would be a confession, for he did not intend to lie about this matter.

"Listen!" Uncle Piero exclaimed, with the ringing voice and open countenance of the perfectly straightforward man who, being smothered to the point of suffocation with precautions and dissimulations, finally strikes out from the shoulder and, casting them off, breathes freely once more. "I admit you were wrong to irritate your grandmother, for, after all, old people must be respected even when they err; I see that the consequences may be serious, but nevertheless I am glad things are as they are, and I should be more glad if you had told your grandmother everything, clearly and roundly. I have never had any patience with all this secrecy, all this feigning and hiding. The honest man openly confesses his actions. You desire to marry against your grandmother's wishes? Well do so, but, at least, don't deceive her."

"But Piero!" Signora Teresa exclaimed, who, besides a delicate perception of what life should be, possessed an accurate sense of what life really is, and, being much more given to religious exercises than her brother, and standing on a more familiar footing with the Almighty, could most easily persuade herself that He would make certain concessions in the matter of form, when some substantial benefit was to be gained.

"But Piero! You don't think! If the Marchesa finds out about the marriage this way, she will, of course, refuse to receive Luisa into her house, and then what are the children to do? Where can they go? There is no room here, and even if there were, nothing is ready. At your house it is the same. You must consider all these points. If we wished to keep the marriage a secret for a month or two, it was not in order to deceive, it was to gain time in which to win over Franco's grandmother, and if she would not yield, to prepare one or two rooms at Oria."

"Oh, dear me!" said the engineer, "Does it take two months to do that? It seems incredible!"

At this point a prolonged puff in the shadow reminded them of Signor Giacomo's presence; he was leaning against the wall in one corner not daring to move, because it was so dark.

Signora Teresa had not yet welcomed him.

"Oh, Signor Giacomo!" she now hastened to say. "I beg your pardon. I am really so very, very much obliged to you! Pray come this way. Did you hear what we were saying? Do let us have your opinion."

"Your very humble servant," said Signor Giacomo from his corner. "Really I dare not move, for with my poor sight——"

"Luisa!" Signora Teresa called. "Bring a lamp. But did you hear, Signor Giacomo? What do you think about it? Do tell us."

In his profound wisdom Signor Giacomo emitted three or four little hasty puffs which meant: Ah, this is indeed an embarrassing question!

"I cannot say," he began hesitatingly, "I cannot say at present, being in the dark——"

"Luisa!" Signora Teresa called once more. "No, no, Signora! I mean being in the dark on so many points. I feel that in my ignorance I may not pronounce an opinion. Still I will say it seems to me that perhaps it might ... well, at any rate, I am here at your service and at the service of this most respected family, though indeed I should not be astonished if the Imperial and Royal Commissary—a most excellent person, but very punctilious.... But enough, we will not talk of that, for here I am. But I do say, it seems to me that we might wait a little while, and our most noble friend Don Franco here might be able to wheedle and persuade.... Well, well, well. Do as you like. It is all the same to me."

A furious protest on Franco's part had caused Signor Giuseppe to face about thus suddenly. Luisa seconded this protest, and Signora Teresa, who now would perhaps have been in favour of a postponement, did not venture to oppose their wishes.

"Luisa, Franco," said she, "take me back to the salon."

The two young people pushed the easy-chair into the salon, followed by Uncle Piero and Signor Giacomo.

On the threshold Luisa, bending over her mother, kissed her hair, and murmured: "You will see. All will be for the best."

She had expected to find the curate in the salon, but he had slipped away through the kitchen.

Hardly had Franco and Luisa pushed the invalid's chair up to the table upon which stood the lamp, when the sacristan came to say that everything was ready. Signora Teresa asked him to inform the curate that the bride and groom would go to church in half an hour.

"Luisa!" said she, glancing meaningly at her daughter.

"Yes, Mamma," the girl replied, and turning to her lover, said in a low tone: "Franco, Mamma wishes to speak with you."

Signor Giacomo understood, and went out to the terrace. The engineer did not understand at all, and his niece had to explain to him that her mother was to be left alone with Franco. The simple-minded man could see no reason for this, but she took his arm and, smiling, led him away to the terrace.

Signora Teresa silently held out her beautiful hand, which was still youthful in its curves, and Franco, kneeling, kissed it.

"Poor Franco," said she gently.

Then she made him rise from his knees and sit close to her. She must speak to him, she said, and her breath was so short. But he would understand much from a few words, would he not?

In speaking these words her voice was infinitely sweet.

"You must know," she began, "that I had not intended to say this to you, but I thought of it when you spoke about breaking the plate at the dinner-table. I beg you to be careful on account of Uncle Piero's position. In his heart he feels as you do. If you only could have seen the letters he wrote me in 1848! But he is a servant of the Government. It is true his conscience is perfectly easy, for he knows that by engineering roads and water-works he is serving his country and not the Germans. But he must and will take certain precautions, and you—for love of him—must be cautious also."

"The Germans will soon be gone, Mamma!" Franco replied. "But do not worry; you shall see how prudent I will be."

"Oh, my dear! I have little more to see, I have only to see you two united and blessed by the Lord. When the Germans go, you will come to Looch to tell me of it."

Those small fields where the little cemetery of Castello is situated go by the name of Looch.

"But I had intended to speak to you of another matter," Signora Teresa went on, without giving Franco time to protest. He took her hands and pressed them, with difficulty restraining his tears.

"I must speak to you of Luisa," she said. "You must know your wife well."

"I do know her, Mamma! I know her as well as you do, and perhaps even better."

As he pronounced these words his whole being glowed and quivered in his passionate love for her who was the life of his life, the soul of his soul. "Poor Franco!" said Signora Teresa, smiling tenderly. "No, listen to me, for there is something you do not know, of which you should be informed. Wait a moment."

She needed to rest. Her emotion made her breathing more laboured, and she spoke with greater difficulty than usual. She motioned to Franco not to move, for she saw he was about to rise, that he might do something to relieve her. Only a little repose was necessary, and she took it, resting her head against the chair-back.

Presently she roused herself. "You have probably heard many evil accounts of my poor husband, at your own home. You will have heard that he was an unprincipled man, and that I did very wrong to marry him. It is true he was not religious, and for that reason I hesitated some time before deciding to accept him. I was advised to do so because it was thought I might have a good influence over this man, who had a most noble soul. He died a Christian, and I have every hope of meeting him in Heaven, if the Lord, in His mercy, shall see fit to receive me there. But up to the very last hour it seemed as if I were not to accomplish anything. Now, I fear my Luisa has her father's tendencies in her heart. She hides them from me, but I feel they are there. I commend her to you; study her, advise her; she is gifted and has a great heart, and if I have not known how to do well by her, you must do better. You are a good Christian: see that, with all her heart, she also becomes one. Promise me this, Franco."

He promised, smiling, as if he considered her fears groundless, and were making this superfluous promise simply to satisfy her.

The invalid gazed sadly at him. "Believe me," she added, "these are not fancies. I cannot die in peace if you do not take this matter seriously." And when the young man had repeated his promise, this time without smiling, she said—

"One word more. When you leave here you will go to Professor Gilardoni's, will you not?"

"That was my first plan. I was to have told my grandmother that I was going to sleep at Gilardoni's house, as we were to start on an excursion together in the morning. But now, you know how I left home."

"Still you had better go there. I had rather you went there, and besides, he expects you, does he not? So you must go. Poor Gilardoni! He has never been here since his fit of madness, two years ago. You know about that, do you not? Luisa has told you?"

"Yes, Mamma."

This Professor Gilardoni, who lived like a hermit at Casarico, had fallen most romantically in love with Signora Teresa some years before, and had timidly presented himself to her as a suitor. She had received his proposal with such utter amazement that he had lacked courage to appear before her again. "Poor man!" Signora Rigey continued, "that was a most stupid action, but he has a heart of gold, and is a true friend. I wish you to cherish him. The day before he had that mad fit, he confided a secret to me. I may not repeat to you what he said, and moreover, I beg you not to mention the subject to him unless he speaks to you about it; but it is, in fact, something which, under certain circumstances, might be of great importance to you two, especially if you have children. If Gilardoni should confide in you, reflect seriously before telling Luisa. She might look at the matter in a wrong light. Consider the question carefully, consult Uncle Piero, and then speak or remain silent according to the line of action you may have determined to adopt."

"Yes, Mamma."

There was a gentle tap at the door, and Luisa's voice said: "Have you finished?"

Franco looked at the invalid. "Come in," said she. "Is it time to go?"

Luisa did not answer, but threw one arm around Franco's neck, and together they knelt before the mother, their heads buried in her lap. Luisa tried her best to restrain her tears, knowing well that her mother should be spared all violent emotion, but her heaving shoulders betrayed her.

"No, Luisa, no, dear, no!" said her mother, caressing her bowed head. "I am grateful to you, for you have always been a good daughter dear; such a good daughter! Calm yourself; I am so happy! You will see, I shall get better. Now go. Kiss me, both of you, and then go. You must not keep the curate waiting. May God bless you, Luisa, and you also, Franco!"

She asked for her prayer-book, drew the lamp towards her, had the windows and the door leading to the terrace thrown open that she might breathe more easily, and then dismissed the maid, who was prepared to keep her company. When the young couple had left the room, the engineer came in to greet his sister before going to church.

"Good-by, Teresa."

"Good-by, Piero. Another load is laid on your shoulders, my poor Piero."

"Amen!" the engineer answered, calmly.

When she was alone Signora Rigey sat listening to the receding footsteps. The heavy steps of her brother and Signor Giacomo bringing up the rear, prevented her hearing those others, which she strained her ear to follow as far as possible.

Another moment and the sounds ceased. She realised that Luisa and Franco were going away together into the future, whither she might follow them only for a few months, perhaps only for a few days; that she could neither divine nor foresee what their fate would be. "Poor children!" she thought. "Who knows what they may have passed through in five years, in ten years." She listened again, but the silence was profound; the open window admitted only the far-away thundering of the cascades of Rescia, over across the lake. Then, thinking that they must already have entered the church, she took her prayer-book, and read attentively.

But she soon grew weary; her brain was confused, and the words of the book blurred before her eyes.

Her mind was becoming drowsy, her will-power was lost. She foresaw the approach of a vision of unreal things, but she knew she was not asleep, she understood that this was not a dream, but a condition produced by her malady. She saw the door leading to the kitchen open, and there entered old Gilardoni from Dasio, called "el Carlin de Das," father of the Professor and agent of the Maironi family, for the estates in Valsolda—he had been dead five-and-twenty years. The figure came forward, and said, in a natural voice: "Oh, Signora Teresa! Are you quite well?" She thought she answered—"Oh, Carlin! I am quite well; and how are you?" But in reality she did not speak.

"I've got the letter here," the figure continued, waving a letter triumphantly. "I've brought it here for you!" And he placed the letter on the table.

Signora Teresa saw it quite plainly. A letter, soiled and yellowed by time, without an envelope, and still bearing traces of a little red wafer, lay before her and she experienced a sense of lively satisfaction. She thought she said: "Thank you, Carlin. Are you going to Dasio, now?" "No, Signora," Carlin replied. "I am going to Casarico to see my son."

The invalid could no longer distinguish Carlin, but she saw the letter on the table, saw it distinctly. Still she was not sure it was there; in her sluggish brain the vague memory of other past hallucinations still endured, the memory of the disease, which was her enemy, her cruel master. Her eyes were glassy, her breathing laboured and rapid.

The sound of hastening footsteps roused her, and recalled her almost completely to herself. When Luisa and Franco came swiftly into the room from the terrace they did not notice that their mother's face was distorted, for the lamp was heavily shaded. Kneeling before her they covered her with kisses, attributing that laboured breathing to emotion. Suddenly the invalid raised her head from the chair-back and stretched out her hands, pointing to something at which she was looking fixedly.

"The letter!" she said.

The young people turned, but saw nothing.

"What letter, Mamma?" Luisa asked. At the same moment she noticed her mother's expression, and warned Franco by a glance. This was not the first time that Signora Teresa had suffered from hallucinations since her illness began. At the question, "What letter?" everything became clear to her. "Oh!" she exclaimed, and withdrawing her hands, buried her face in them, weeping silently. Comforted by her children's caresses she soon composed herself, kissed them, extended her hand to her brother and Signor Giacomo, who did not in the least understand what had happened, and then motioned to Luisa to go and get something. It was a question of a cake and a precious bottle of wine from Niscioree, which, together with some others, had been sent some time before by the Marchese Bianchi, to whom Signora Teresa was an object of special veneration.

Signor Giacomo, who was longing to be off, began to fidget and puff, and glance towards the engineer.

"Signora Luisina," said he, seeing the bride about to leave the room. "Pray excuse me, but I was just going to take leave of——"

"No, no!" Signora Rigey exclaimed, with only a thread of voice. "Wait a little longer."

Luisa disappeared, and Franco slipped out of the room behind his wife. Signora Teresa was suddenly assailed by scruples, and signed to her brother to call him back.

"Nonsense!" said the engineer.

"But Piero!"

"Well?"

The ancient and austere traditions of her house, a delicate sense of dignity, perhaps also a religious scruple, because the young couple had not yet received the benediction of the nuptial Mass, would neither allow Signora Teresa to approve of their withdrawing together, nor to explain her views on the subject. Her reticence and Uncle Piero's fatherly benevolence gave Franco time to place himself beyond the possibility of recall. Signora Teresa did not insist.

"Forever!" she murmured presently, as if speaking to herself. "United forever!"

"You and I," said the engineer, addressing his colleague in celibacy in the Venetian dialect, "you and I, Signor Giacomo, never go in for any such nonsense!"

"You are always in good spirits, most worshipful engineer!" Signor Giacomo answered, while his conscience was telling him that in his time he had gone in for far worse "nonsense."

The bride and groom did not return.

"Signor Giacomo," the engineer continued, "there will be no going to bed for us to-night."

The unfortunate man writhed, puffed and winked hard but did not reply.

Still the bride and groom were absent.

"Piero," said Signora Teresa, "ring the bell."

"Signor Giacomo," the engineer began, composedly, "shall we ring the bell?"

"That would seem to be the Signora's wish," the little man replied, steering his course as best he could between the brother and sister. "However, I express no opinion."

"Piero!" his sister pleaded.

"Come, let us have an answer," Uncle Piero continued without moving. "What would you do? Would you, or would you not ring this bell?" "For pity's sake!" Signor Giacomo groaned. "You really must excuse me."

"I will excuse nothing!"

The young people were still absent, and the mother growing more and more anxious, repeated—

"Piero, I tell you to ring!"

Signor Giacomo, who was dying to get away, and who could not leave without saluting the bride and groom, encouraged by Signora Teresa's insistence, made a great effort, turned very red and finally pronounced an opinion: "I should ring."

"My dear Signor Giacomo," the engineer exclaimed, "I am surprised, amazed and astonished!" Who can say why, when he was in good spirits, and had occasion to use one of these synonyms, he would always string the three together? "However," he concluded, "let us ring."

And he proceeded to ring very gently.

"Listen, Piero," said Signora Teresa. "Remember that when you leave, Franco is to go with you. He will return at half-past five for the Mass."

"Oh dear me!" Uncle Piero exclaimed. "How many difficulties! But after all, are they or are they not husband and wife?—Well, well," he added, seeing that his sister was beginning to grow excited, "do just as you like!"

Instead of the young couple the maid appeared, bringing the cake and the bottle, and told the engineer that Signorina Luisina begged him to come out to the terrace for a moment.

"Now that something good is coming at last, you send me outside!" said the engineer. He jested with his usual serenity of spirit, perhaps because he did not fully realize his sister's serious condition, perhaps because of his naturally pacific attitude towards all that was inevitable.

He went out to the terrace where Luisa and Franco were waiting for him.

"Listen, Uncle," his niece began. "My husband says that his grandmother will surely discover everything at once; that he will not be able to remain at Cressogno any longer; that if Mamma were stronger we might all go to your house at Oria, but, unfortunately, that is not possible as matters stand at present. So he thinks we might arrange a room here—any way to get it ready quickly. We had thought of poor Papa's study. What do you say to this plan?"

"Hm!" ejaculated Uncle Piero, who was slow to take up with new ideas. "It seems to me a very hasty resolution. You will be incurring expense and turning the house upside down, for an arrangement which can only be temporary."

His one idea was to have the whole family at Oria, and this expedient did not suit him. He feared that if the young people once settled down at Castello they would remain there. Luisa used every argument to persuade him that there was no other way, and that neither the outlay nor the trouble would be great. On leaving home her husband would go directly to Lugano, and bring back what few pieces of furniture were absolutely indispensable. Uncle Piero asked if Franco could not take up his quarters at Oria, remaining there until such a time as she and her mother could join him. "Oh, Uncle!" Luisa exclaimed. Had she known about the bell she would have been still more astonished by a similar proposal. But sometimes this good man had artless ideas of this sort, at which his sister smiled. Luisa had no difficulty in finding arguments against his plan for banishing Franco, and she used them with warmth. "Enough!" said Uncle Piero calmly, though he was not convinced; and he arched his wide-spread arms with the gesture of the Dominus vobiscum, more charitably inclined, more ready to enfold poor humanity in a tender embrace than before. "Fiat! Oh, by the way," he added, turning to Franco, "how about money?"

Franco shivered, much embarrassed.

"You know he is our father!" his wife said.

"Not by any means your father," Uncle Piero observed placidly. "Not by any means, but what is mine is yours; so I shall line your pockets as well as my means will permit."

And he suffered, without returning it, the embrace which told of their gratitude, almost as if vexed by this unnecessary demonstration, vexed that they should not accept more simply an act which to him seemed so simple and natural. "Yes, yes!" said he, "now let us go in and drink; it will be far more profitable!"

The wine of Niscioree, clear and red as a ruby, at once delicate and strong, flattered and soothed the inner-man of the impatient Signor Giacomo, who, in those years of oidium, seldom wet his lips in undiluted wine, but gloomily sipped the Grimelli wine, of watery memory.

"Est, est, [G] is it not, Signor Giacomo?" said Uncle Piero, seeing Puttini gaze with devoted eyes into the glass he held. "But here at least, there is no danger of expiring like a certain man: et propter nimium est dominus meus mortuus est." "I feel as if I were being resuscitated," Signor Giacomo answered, speaking very slowly and almost under his breath, his gaze still fixed on the glass.

"Then you must give us a toast," the other said, rising. "But if you will not speak, why then I must do so," and he recited merrily—

Signor Giacomo emptied his glass, puffed loudly and winked hard, in consequence of the varied sentiments which were running riot in his soul, while the last perfume, the last flavour of the wine were fading in his mouth. He offered his duty to the "most revered" Signora Teresa, his devotion to the "most amiable" little bride, his respects to the "most accomplished" young husband. Then, gesticulating with head and arms, he declared himself undeserving of the thanks which were being lavished upon him, and taking his great hat and his stick, he started—humble and puffing, with mingled feelings of relief and regret—to follow the placid bulk of the "most worshipful" engineer.

"And you, Franco?" Signora Teresa enquired immediately.

"I am going," he replied. "Come here," said she. "I received you so badly when you returned from church, my poor children! You see I had had one of my bad attacks; I think you understood. But now I feel so well, so peaceful! Lord, I thank Thee! it seems to me I have set my house in order, have put out the fire and said my prayers; and now I am going to sleep, so well satisfied! But not so very soon, dear, not at once. I leave you my Luisa, dear; I leave you Uncle Piero. I know you will love them very much, will you not? But you must remember me also. Ah, dear Lord! how sorry I am I shall not see your children! That is indeed a grief to me! You must give them a kiss every day for their poor grandmother ... every day. And now go, my son, but you will be back by half-past five? Yes, dear.... Good-by ... now go."

She spoke caressingly to him, as to a child who does not yet understand, and he wept silently, with tender emotion, kissing her hands over and over again, and glad Luisa was present to witness this scene, for in his immense tenderness for the mother, there was his immense joy at being one with the daughter, and an intense desire to love all that his wife loved, and in the same measure.

"Go," Mamma Teresa repeated, fearing her own increasing emotion. "Go, go!"

At last he obeyed and went out with Luisa.

On this occasion also Luisa was absent a long time, but even the holiest souls have their little weaknesses, and although the maid was constantly coming and going between the kitchen and the salon, Signora Teresa, touched by the affection which Franco had displayed for her, never once ordered her to ring the bell.