onio. Flavia said that
she never would leave La Mamma, and I thought that I would do the same.
But it was not to be. One morning La Mamma, who had been sitting up with
a sick baby at the Albergo della Stella, came home and told me that I
was born to good fortune,--that Signorina Teodora, the landlord's
daughter, was going to be married, and that I was wanted to work at the
_trousseau_. It was all to be made at home, and the signorina engaged me
for three months. It was the first time that I had ever gone to an hotel
to work; and La Mamma gave me a great many counsels about my behavior.
Signorina Teodora was very kind, and the work was just exactly what I
liked to do. I used to sew in the _guarda-roba_ (linen-room), where the
linen-keeper, a very respectable woman, was busy all day, mending and
arranging the linen. That was all well enough, but at meal-times I was
very uncomfortable. I used to go down to the servants' dining-room, and
there the talk, and the manners too, were coarse and rude. I did not
like to complain, but my position was a very hard one. I had taught the
men to keep their distance, and they did so, but they were cross and
disagreeable to me, and nicknamed me "La Superba" (the proud one). The
women-servants all said that I gave myself airs, and if they could do
anything to annoy me they did. At last I proposed to Signorina Teodora
that I should be allowed to take my meals in the _guarda-roba_, so that
I might be nearer my work. But she said no, that would not do, but that
I might have them in a little room next the padrone's dining-room, and
that she would say that this was because I was wanted for trying on her
dresses just at the time that the servants' dinner was served. The first
time I went down to dinner alone I felt very much frightened; but my
dinner was put on the table very nicely, and one of the men-servants,
whom I had never spoken to before, waited on me. He did so just as
politely as if I had been a lady, but he was very quiet. The next day he
began to talk a little, and told me about his mother (who was dead), and
about his childhood, and the customs of the Abruzzi, because he came
from that part of Italy. We used to talk together so, day after day,
while he waited on me, and we became very good friends. At last, when
the time of my engagement was nearly run out, Luigi--that was the
waiter's name--became very silent, but he served my dinner as nicely and
carefully as ever. I was a little af