e
angry you are stupid. I carried that girl in my arms when she was a
baby! I have watched over her ever since. A wench! Not one of your own
daughters has a heart so white. If Vittorio is so great a coward as to
listen to their talk I'll keep her for his betters."

All this snapped out of Luigi's eyes and rolled from under his crisp
mustache as he repeated the outbreak to me. What the end might be
neither the Giudecca nor San Giuseppe could decide. The Borodinis were
proud; Vittorio's father was one of the gondoliers belonging to the
palace and always rowed the good Queen Margherita when she came
incognito to Venice,--a post which greatly enhanced his social station.
Vittorio was the only son, and already a member of the traghetto, young
as he was. But then, were there any girls better than Loretta, or as
good? She helped her mother; she paid her share of the rent to
Francesco's father; she gave to the poor box. That she was the sunshine
of the Quarter every one knew who heard her sweet, cheery voice. As to
her family, it was true that her mother was a Sicilian who boiled over
sometimes in a tempest of rage, like Vesuvius,--but her father had been
one of them. And then again, was she not the chosen friend of Luigi,
the Primo, and of the crazy painter who haunted the canal? The boy and
his father might be glad, etc., etc.

The only persons who were oblivious to the talk were the two lovers.
Their minds were made up. Father Garola had promised, and they knew
exactly what to do, and when and where to do it. In the meantime the
Riva was a pathway of rose-tinted clouds constructed for the especial
use of two angels, one of whom wore a straw hat with a red ribbon
canted over his sunburnt face, and the other a black shawl with silken
fringe, whose every movement suggested a caress.

The one disgruntled person was Francesco.

He had supposed at first that, like the others, Vittorio would find out
his mistake;--certainly when he looked closely into the pure eyes of
the girl, and that then, like the others, he would give up the
chase;--he not being the first gay Lothario who had been taught just
such a lesson.

Loretta's answer to the schemer, given with a toss of her head and a
curl of her lips, closed Francesco's mouth and set his brain in a
whirl. In his astonishment he had long talks with his father, the two
seated in their boat against the Garden wall so no one could overhear.

Once he approached Luigi and began a tal