n the
floor before a beautiful crucifix, such a beautiful one. I think he was
saying prayers, but I could not see his face. He stayed a long time, and
then when I knocked he covered it up, was not that strange? That is the
reason why I persuaded him so easily to change his mind."

Gianbattista smiled incredulously. He had often seen Marzio kneel on the
floor to get a different view of a large piece of work.

"He was only looking at the work," he answered. "I have seen him do it
very often. He would laugh if he could hear you, Lucia. Do you imagine
he is such a man as that? Perhaps it would not do him any harm--a little
praying. But it is a kind of medicine he does not relish. No, Lucia, you
have been deceived, believe me."

The girl's expression changed. She had quite persuaded herself that a
great moral change had taken place in her father that morning, and had
built many hopes upon it. To her sanguine imagination it seemed as
though his whole nature must have changed. She had seen visions of him
as she had always wished he might be, and the visions had seemed likely
to be realised. She had doubted whether she should tell any one the
story of what she regarded as Marzio's conversion, but she had made an
exception in favour of Gianbattista. Gianbattista simply laughed, and
explained the matter away in half a dozen words. Lucia was more deeply
disappointed than any one, listening to her light talk, could have
believed possible. Her face expressed the pain she felt, and she
protested against the apprentice's explanation.

"It is too bad of you, Tista," she said in hurt tones. "But I do not
think you are right. You have no idea how quietly he knelt, and his
hands were folded on the bench. He bent his head once, and I believe he
kissed the feet--I wish you could have seen it, you would not doubt me.
You think I have invented a silly tale, I am sure you do."

The tears filled her eyes as she turned away and stared vacantly out of
the window at the dark houses opposite. The sun, which had been shining
until that moment, disappeared behind a mass of driving clouds, and a
few drops of rain began to beat against the panes of glass. The world
seemed suddenly more dreary to Lucia. Gianbattista, who was sensitive
where she was concerned, looked at her, and understood that he had
destroyed something in which she had wished to believe.

"Well, well, my heart, perhaps you are right," he said softly, putting
his arm round her.