im from
Brancaccia, and he nestled down in my arms, all the time gazing up at me
with an expression of satisfied wonder, as though at last he understood
something that had been puzzling him. Peppino was present, but effaced
himself by helping Carmelo with what he calls my "luggages." I suppose I
exchanged the usual greetings with the parents, but they did not count, I
had seen them since their marriage; this time I had come to see Enrico.
There was some difficulty about getting into the carriage, because they
thought I could not do it unless they took him away, and he did not want
to be taken away. When we were settled, and Carmelo was driving us up
the zig-zags, I said:

"Of course you don't expect me to know much about babies, not being
married or anything--but isn't he an unusually fine child for his age?"

Brancaccia was much flattered and replied that recently, when they had
bought him some new clothes, he took the size usually sold for babies of
twice his age. This made Peppino laugh at his wife, and say that the
compare might not know much about babies, but he knew how to get on the
right side of Ricuzzu's mother.

"Why do you call him Ricuzzu?" I asked.

"Ricuzzu is Enrico in Sicilian."

"Then I shall call him Ricuzzu also."

"Of course, yes."

The motion of the carriage soon sent the child to sleep. I handed him
back to Brancaccia, and looked at her as she sat with him in her arms.
She was more beautiful than before, because of something that has eluded
the skill of all the painters who have striven to capture it for their
hortus siccus of the Madonna and Child, something that Enrico had
awakened in her heart, and that I saw glowing in her eyes and throbbing
in all her movements.

"Isn't he like Peppino?" asked Brancaccia.

"He is the very image of Peppino," I replied; but I noticed that he also
had Brancaccia's blue eyes, and was promising to have her black hair.

We arrived at the Albergo della Madonna (con giardino) and Peppino took
me up to my room. Brancaccia had been before us, and had put an enormous
bunch of flowers in water on the table to greet me. I went out on the
balcony, just to make sure that the panorama was still there, and, after
putting myself straight, descended into the garden, where I found Peppino
waiting for me, and where we were to have tea in the English
manner--"sistema Inglese," as Brancaccia said.

The English system is not always in working order at a moment's n