th her back to the hill, and
allowed Maria to amuse herself by climbing up the bank behind her, and
sliding down again on the dry grass.

She had not seen the Professor since Christmas Eve, and she longed to
speak with him; not to hear the story of the Maironi will over again,
but to get him to tell her about his interview with Franco, when he had
shown it to him: to ascertain what Franco's first impression had been
and what the Professor's opinion was. As the will had been destroyed,
all this could only be of psychological importance, but Luisa's
curiosity was not the curiosity of the idle observer. Her husband's
conduct had deeply wounded her. Thinking of it over and over again, as
she had done ever since Christmas Eve, she had arrived at the conclusion
that his silence towards her had been an outrage against justice and
affection. It was a bitter sorrow to her to feel her esteem for him
diminishing, especially bitter now, on the eve of his departure, and at
a time when he really deserved praise. She would have liked, at least,
to know that when Gilardoni had shown him the documents there had been
some inward struggle, that a more just sentiment had been aroused in his
soul, if only for a moment. She rose, took Maria by the hand, and
started towards Casarico.

She found the Professor in the garden with Pinella, and told Maria to
run and play with the boy, but Maria, always eager to listen to the
conversation of her elders, would not hear of going. Then Luisa broached
the subject without mentioning any names. She wished to speak to the
Professor about certain papers, about those old letters. The Professor,
who was crimson, protested that he did not understand. Fortunately,
Pinella called Maria, enticing her with a picture-book, and she ran to
him, conquered by her curiosity concerning the book. Then Luisa relieved
the Professor of his scruples, by informing him that Franco himself had
told her everything, and she confessed to him that she had disapproved
of her husband's conduct, that it had been, and still was a source of
great sorrow to her----

"Why, why, why?" said the worthy Professor, interrupting her. Because
Franco had not been willing to do anything. "I have done something! I
have done something!" Gilardoni exclaimed, anxiously and excitedly. "But
for the love of Heaven, don't tell your husband!" Luisa was amazed. What
had the Professor done? And when, and how? And was not the will already
destroyed?

The