of the sweet root under the rind, always
purred at his stray grunts and pats, taking them by instinct for what
they were really worth; and now to watch his new delight filled her with
gratitude--and more, she felt free to love the man. For one thing, it
unlocked his lips and hers. She could sing about the house since Cola
had come--they had christened him after good Saint Nicholas--because
Master Baldassare was so talkative on his account. The old man sat at
home whenever he could, in his shiny armchair, his cup of black wine by
his side, and watched Vanna with the baby by the hour together, poring
over every downward turn of her pretty head, every pass of her fingers,
every little eager striving of the sucking child. There were, indeed, no
bounds to his content: to be a father--poor old soul!--seemed to him the
most glorious position in the world. Can Grande II. in the
judgment-seat, the bishop stalled in his throne, the Holy Father himself
in the golden chambers of his castle at Avignon, had nothing to offer
Ser Baldassare Dardicozzo, the old-clothes man.

Though the neighbours knew nothing of this inner peace, they could not
deny that Monna Vanna, brazen or no, was mightily become by her new
dignity or (as you should say) indignity. She was more staid, more
majestic; but no less the tall, swaying, crowned girl she had ever been.
She was seen, without doubt, for a splendid young woman. The heavy child
seemed not to drag her down, nor the slant looks of respectable
citizens, her neighbours, to lower her head. She met them with level
eyes quite candid, and a smiling mouth to all appearance pure. When she
found they would not discuss her riches, she talked of theirs. When she
found them over-satisfied with their children, she laughed quietly as
one who knew better. This was a thing to take away a woman's breath,
that she should grow the more glorious for her shame. Party feeling had
been stormy, like crossing tides, between those who held Baldassare for
a gull and those who resented Vanna's unruffled brows. But now there was
but one party. It was very well to hoodwink an old skinflint; but, by
the Mass, not honest to flaunt your methods in the world's face. And
since our own dignity is the skin upon which we rely for all our
protection, while contempt for our neighbours is but a grease we put
upon it for its ease, it was self-defence which brought it about that
the party against Vanna grew ominously large, while Baldassa