raid that I had offended him,
because every evening he used to say, as I rose from the table, "Are you
coming back to-morrow?" And every time I said yes, he would answer,
"Well, then, I can say what I have to say to-morrow," At last one night,
when he said as usual, "Are you coming back to-morrow, _sarta_
[dressmaker]?" I answered no,--that my work was over. "Well, then," says
Luigi, "I must find courage to tell you to-night, _sarta_, that I love
you, and I want you to be my wife!"

I sat still a moment, quite thunder-struck, and then I jumped up and ran
out of the room. "I can say not a word," I said, as I passed him, "You
know you ought to have spoken to La Mamma first."

"If that's all," says he, following me to the foot of the stairs, "I can
speak to La Mamma to-morrow night."

"And then I may say no," I called out as I ran up-stairs.

Well, the next night he came to see La Mamma, and brought his uncle with
him. This uncle was a very decent man, who had been gardener for thirty
years in Count Gemiani's family. He was the only relation Luigi had in
the world, and he gave him an excellent character. But I would not say a
word. I told Luigi I could not tell whether I liked him or not until I
saw him _in borghese_ [_i.e._, dressed in ordinary clothes], because you
know, signora, I had only seen him dressed in black, with a white
cravat. Well, he was very patient, and, as soon as he was at liberty, he
came again, dressed _in borghese_, and then he pleased me, and I made up
my mind to have him.

But then came another trouble. The match was not well looked upon by La
Mamma and my brother and sisters, because Luigi was a person in service,
and that had never happened in our family before. Babbo, as I have said,
was a carrier; Mamma, a silk-weaver; Marc Antonio had married a
_cucitrice di bianco_ [shirt-maker]; Fausta, a candle-maker,--but, to be
sure, her marriage did not matter, because her husband was a bad man.
However, I was obstinate, and La Mamma liked Luigi in her heart, and so
at last we were engaged. He used to come and see me two evenings in the
week. Sometimes La Mamma sat with us, and sometimes Flavia. When it was
Flavia's turn Luigi used to laugh and say the sentinel was changed. We
had to keep our engagement very quiet, because you know that the
men-servants at Italian hotels are not allowed to marry, and, though
most of them are in reality married men, they always pretend to be
bachelors. Gradually we ma