oba paused for strength to tell the painful truth.

"She would say 'Fiddlesticks,' Angioletto."

Angioletto frowned. "Ah! what is to be done?" he asked.

Bellaroba looked down, plucked at her skirt, saw Angioletto's hand
peeping round her waist. It seemed difficult to say, and yet what she
did say was very simple: "We have not asked Olimpia, you know."

"No," Angioletto answered; "we have had no time yet. But we will, of
course."

"Oh, of course," said she, who kept her eyes hidden, and spoke very low.
"Oh, of course. But--"

"Well, dearest?"

"Could we not--would it not be wiser--of course you know best,
Angioletto!--might we not ask her--afterwards?"

Angioletto kissed her.

"You are as wise as you are lovely, my little wife. Come, let us find
the Madonna degli Greci." And he led her away by the hand.

They found her in the north transept, in a little fenced chapel all
starry with tapers and gleaming gold and silver hearts. As it was the
eve of Pentecost she was uncovered; they could see her dark outline with
its wrought metal ring about the head. Half-way down was another metal
ring; Bambino's head should be in there.

Both the hand-fasted pilgrims fell to their knees: Bellaroba crossed
herself, and then hid her face with her left hand, Angioletto with his
right. After a silence, about the space of two Hail Mary's, the youth
looked resolutely up at Madonna, and began to speak to her.

"Holy and most glorious Virgin, Mother of God," said he, "we, thy
children, have sought thee first in this famous city of Ferrara, because
we are sure that thou wilt love us even more than we love each other,
and wilt be glad to share our secret. We are going to marry each other
at this moment, Madonna, and thou shalt be the priest. There can be none
better, since thou hadst in thy womb for many months the great Priest of
all Christians, our sublime Redeemer. Now, behold, Madonna, how I wed
this my wife, Bellaroba. With this ring, which was given me by a very
great lady," and he took a ring from his breast, "I wed my wife, placing
it upon her finger in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the
Holy Ghost. I do not endow her with my worldly goods, for thou knowest I
have none. I do not worship her with my body at this moment, but in the
meantime I worship her unfeignedly with my mind, just as I worship thee
with my soul. It appears, therefore, that I have wedded her enough. It
is useless, most sacred Lady, to ask h