aiting in Venice, whence he was to go over to the
mainland. He nodded to the young man carelessly, but said nothing, and
no one would have guessed how kindly he had spoken to him on the
previous night. Giovanni Beroviero took ceremonious leave of his father,
his cap in his hand, bending low, a lean man, twenty years older than
Marietta, with an insignificant brow and clean-shaven, pointed jaw and
greedy lips. Marietta stood within the shadow of the doorway, very pale.
Nella was beside her, and Giovanni's wife, and further in, at a
respectful distance, the serving-people, for the master's departure was
an event of importance.

The gondola pushed off when Beroviero had disappeared under the 'felse'
with a final wave of the hand. Zorzi stood still, looking after his
master, and Marietta came forward to the doorstep and pretended to watch
the gondola also. Zorzi was the first to turn, and their eyes met. He
had not expected to see her still there, and he started a little.
Giovanni looked at him coldly.

"You had better go to your work," he said in a sour tone. "I suppose my
father has told you what to do."

The young artist flushed, but answered quietly enough.

"I am going to my work," he said. "I need no urging."

Before he put on his cap, he bent his head to Marietta; then he passed
on towards the bridge.

"That fellow is growing insolent," said Giovanni to his sister, but he
was careful that Zorzi should not hear the words. "I think I shall
advise our father to turn him out."

Marietta looked at her brother with something like contempt.

"Since when has our father consulted you, or taken your advice?" she
asked.

"I presume he takes yours," retorted Giovanni, regretting that he could
not instantly find a sharper answer, for he was not quick-witted though
he was suspicious.

"He needs neither yours nor mine," said Marietta, "and he trusts whom he
pleases."

"You seem inclined to defend his servants when they are insolent,"
answered Giovanni.

"For that matter, Zorzi is quite able to defend himself!" She turned her
back on her brother and went towards the stairs, taking Nella with her.

Giovanni glanced at her with annoyance and walked along the footway in
the direction of his own glass-house, glad to go back to a place where
he was absolute despot. But he had been really surprised that Marietta
should boldly take the Dalmatian's side against him, and his narrow
brain brooded upon the unexpected circumsta