ano had been to anything save his own belly; but it was
incontestable that he was not father to anything else. That alone might
have been a grievance for Vanna, but there is no evidence that it was.
Baldassare was by nature gruff, by habit close-fisted: like all such
men, the more he felt the deeper he hoarded the thought under his ribs.
The most he would venture would be a hand on her hair and a grunt when
she did well; so sure as she looked up gratefully at him the old man
drew off, with puckered brows and jaws working together. He may have
been ashamed of his weakness; it is dead certain that no one in Verona,
least of all Vanna herself, suspected him of any affection for his young
wife. Mostly he was silent; thus she became silent too whenever he was
in the house. This was against nature, for by ordinary her little songs
bubbled from her like a bird's. But to see him so glum and staring
within doors awed her: she set a finger to her lips as she felt the tune
on her tongue, and went about her business mute. Baldassare would go
abroad, stooping under his pack: she took her seat at the shop-door,
threaded her needle, her fingers flew and her fancy with them. The
spring of her music was touched, and all the neighbours grew to listen
for the gentle cadences she made.

So passed a year, so two years passed. Vanna was twenty-three, looking
less, when along there came one morning a tall young friar, a Carmelite,
by name Fra Battista, with a pair of brown dove's eyes in his smooth
face. These he lifted towards Vanna's with an air so timid and so
penetrating, so delicate and hardy at once, that when he was gone it was
to leave her with the falter of a verse in her mouth, two hot cheeks,
and a quicker heart.

This Fra Battista, by birth a Bergamask, accredited to the convent at
Verona by reason of his parts as a preacher, was tall and shapely, like
a spoilt pretty boy to look at, leggy, and soft in the palm. His frock
set off this petted appearance--it gave you the idea of a pinafore on
him. He did not look manly, was not manly by any means, and yet not so
girlish but that you could doubt his sex. His eyes, which, as I say,
were soft as a dove's pair, he was not fond of showing; and this gave
them the more searching appeal when he did. His mouth, full and fleshy
in the lips, had a lovely curve. He kept it very demure, and, when he
spoke, spoke softly. This was a young man born to be Lancilotto to some
Ginevra or other; and, t