be married before
he should go back. There was no letter from Matteo. So much the
better.

One golden day succeeded another, and Silvia changed from a lily to a
rose with marvellous rapidity. She was not a ruddy, full-leaved rose,
though, but like one of those delicate ones with clouds of red on them
and petals that only touch the calyx, as if they were wings and must
be free to move. She was slim and frail, and her color wavered, and
her head had a little droop, and her voice was low. She had always
been the stillest creature alive; and now, full of happiness as she
was, her feelings showed themselves in an uneasy stirring, like that
of a flower in which a bee has hidden itself. After the first outburst
she did not so much say that she was happy as breathe and look it.

One noonday, when life seemed too beautiful to last, and they all sat
together after breakfast, the signora, her daughter and Silvia, too
contented to say a word, the door opened, and Matteo Guai came in with
a black, smileless face, and not the slightest salutation for his
sister. He had come to take Silvia home, he replied briefly to the
signora's compliments. She must be ready in an hour. The vintage was
suffering by his absence, and it was necessary that he should return
at once.

Signora Fantini poured out the most voluble exclamations, prayers and
protests. She had forty engagements for Silvia. They had had only a
few days' visit from her, and she was to have stayed a month. They
would themselves accompany her to Monte Compatri later if it was
necessary that she should go. But, in fine, Monsignor Catinari did not
expect her to return.

"I am the head of the family, and my sister has to obey me till she is
married," Matteo replied doggedly. "I suppose that Monsignor Catinari
will not deny that. The Church always supports the authority of the
master of the family."

"Why, of course," the signora replied, rather confused by this
irresistible argument, "you have the right, and no one will resist
you. But as a favor now--" and the signora assumed her most coaxing
smile, and even advanced a plump white hand to touch Matteo's sleeve.

She might as well have tried to bewitch and persuade the bronze
Augustus on the Capitoline Hill.

"Things have changed since it was promised that Silvia should stay a
month with you," Matteo replied. "There is work at home for her to do.
Since she is not to be a nun, she must work. Let her be ready to start
in an