ld." That he
should connect the word _gallantry_ with Eugenio was an imprudence,
to say the least. But the offence was more serious when once at dinner
he favored us with some reminiscences of his own gallantries: "I
remember that when I was in the army the wife of our colonel had a
sister, a splendid-looking creature, with eyes like stars, who (to tell
the truth) was head over ears in--But my sister Lucretia, who is
frowning at me, is right. One would say that she must have had an
enlarged experience in such matters, seeing how sensitive she is to the
danger of discussing them." (Here Signora Lucretia, with blushing
cheeks, glanced from Rugiero to her son, who with downcast eyes appeared
to be absorbed with the roast chicken on his plate.) "Without entering
into details that would appear ill-timed to my dear sister" (here his
eyes twinkled with roguishness and his lips parted in laughter),
"suffice it merely to say that I acted as any other man under the
circumstances would have acted, and kissed her not once or twice, but--"

"Go to thy room, Eugenio, most audacious!" panted Signora Lucretia, for
he had raised his head, and, meeting his uncle's laughing gaze, had
faintly smiled--"Go to thy room" (and here she struck him on the face),
"and recite the Litany of the Blessed Virgin three times, and pray for
thy uncle, that he may be converted."

Eugenio with flaming cheeks and ears rose submissively from the table,
and without a word or look ascended to his room to do her bidding.

"What!" exclaimed Rugiero, rising from his seat, "would you dare to
insult me by desiring my own nephew to pray for me? It seems to me that
I dream! Per Bacco!"

Here my father observed that he must own he saw nothing very outrageous
in what Rugiero had narrated, yet, as Signora Mortera had her own
peculiar views on the matter, he considered that her brother was bound
to respect them. Rugiero then admitted that he had been too hasty, and a
reconciliation was effected, but he never met his nephew's eye
thereafter without the same roguish smile, at which the poor youth would
blush painfully and lower his gaze.

During this scene at the dinner-table Celestino breathed quickly, but
never moved his eyes from the table-cloth, while Virginia looked at each
one of the speakers in open-mouthed astonishment and curiosity.

One day I accompanied Signora Lucretia and her children to a Roman
Catholic chapel in the neighborhood. I could not be unconsci