And whenever her mother opened her mouth to speak, she clapped her
little hands over it to prevent her, made her laugh, bandaged her eyes
with the long plait--played a hundred pranks.

Watching her, Andrea felt, that by all this playful commotion, she was
dispelling from her mother all that his verses had possibly instilled
into her mind.

When, at last, Donna Maria succeeded in freeing herself from her darling
tyrant, she saw his annoyance in his face, and hastened to say--'Forgive
me, Andrea, Delfina is sometimes taken with these fits of wildness.'

With a deft hand she re-arranged the disordered folds of her dress.
There was a faint flush under her eyes and her breath came quickly.

'And forgive her too,' she continued with a smile to which the unwonted
animation of colour lent a singular light, 'out of consideration for her
unconscious homage, for it was she who had the happy inspiration to
place a nuptial wreath over your verses which sing of nuptial communion.
That sets a seal upon the alliance.'

'My thanks both to you and to Delfina,' answered Andrea. It was the
first time she had called him by his Christian name, and the unexpected
familiarity, combined with her gentle words, restored his confidence.
Delfina had run off down one of the paths.

'These verses are a spiritual record, are they not?' Donna Maria
resumed. 'Will you give them to me that I may not forget them?'

His natural impulse was to answer--'They are yours by right to-day, for
they speak of you and to you----' But he only said--

'You shall have them.'

They continued their way towards the Cybele, but as they were leaving
the little enclosure, Donna Maria suddenly turned round towards the
Hermes as if some one had called her; her brow seemed heavy with
thought.

'What are you thinking about?' Andrea asked her almost timidly.

'I was thinking about you,' she replied.

'What were you thinking about me?'

'I was thinking of your past life, of which I know nothing whatever. You
have suffered greatly?'

'I have greatly sinned.'

'And loved much?'

'I do not know. Perhaps it was not love that I felt. Perhaps I have yet
to learn what love is--really I cannot say.'

She did not answer. They walked on in silence for a little way. To their
right, the path was bordered by high laurels, alternating at regular
intervals with cypress trees, and in the background, through the
fluttering leaves, the sea rippled and laughed, blue as the flowe