o had made up his mind to announce his
intention to his family at once. He knew well enough what a storm he
would raise, and, like many men who are always trying to seem stronger
than they really are, he had determined to choose a moment for making
the disclosure when he should be in a thoroughly bad humour. As he
walked homewards from the old inn he felt that this moment had arrived.
The slimy pavement, the moist wind driving through the streets and round
every corner, penetrating to the very joints, contributed to make him
feel thoroughly vicious and disagreeable; and the tirade in which he had
been indulging before his audience of friends had loosed his tongue,
until he was conscious of being able to face any domestic disturbance or
opposition.

The little party had adjourned from supper, and had been sitting for
some time in the small room which served as a place of meeting.
Gianbattista was smoking a cigarette, which he judged to be more in
keeping with his appearance than a pipe when he was dressed in civilised
garments, and he was drawing an elaborate ornament of arabesques upon a
broad sheet of paper fixed on a board. Lucia seated at the table was
watching the work, while Don Paolo sat in a straight-backed chair, his
white hands folded on his knee, from time to time addressing a remark
to Maria Luisa. The latter, being too stout to recline in the deep
easy-chair near the empty fireplace, sat bolt upright, with her feet
upon the edge of a footstool, which was covered by a tapestry of
worsted-work, displaying an impossible nosegay upon a vivid green
ground.

They had discussed the priest's canonry, and the order for the crucifix.
They had talked about the weather. They had made some remarks upon
Marzio's probable disposition of mind when he should come home, and the
conversation was exhausted so far as the two older members were
concerned. Gianbattista and Lucia conversed in a low tone, in short,
enigmatic phrases.

"Do you know?" said the apprentice.

"What?" inquired Lucia.

"I have spoken of it to-day." Both glanced at the Signora Pandolfi. She
was sitting up as straight as ever, but her heavy head was slowly
bending forward.

"Well?" asked the young girl

"He was in a diabolical humour. He said I might take you away."
Gianbattista smiled as he spoke, and looked into Lucia's eyes. She
returned his gaze rather sadly, and only shook her head and shrugged her
shoulders for a reply.

"If we took him at