being late."

"Jean is so slow!" cried the impatient old man, buttoning up his blue
coat and seizing his hat, which he dashed upon his head as he took his
cane and departed.

"You will not get far," said his wife, calling after him.

As she spoke, the porte-cochere was opened and shut, and the old mother
heard the steps of her Ginevra in the court-yard. Bartolomeo almost
instantly reappeared, carrying his daughter, who struggled in his arms.

CHAPTER IV. LOVE

"Here she is, my Ginevra, Ginevrettina, Ginevrola, mia Ginevra bella!"
cried the old man.

"Oh, father, you hurt me!"

Instantly Ginevra was put down with an air of respect. She nodded her
head with a graceful movement at her mother, who was frightened by her
cry, as if to say, "Don't be alarmed, it was only a trick to get away."

The pale, wan face of the baroness recovered its usual tones, and even
assumed a look of gayety. Piombo rubbed his hands violently,--with him
the surest symptom of joy; he had taken to this habit at court when he
saw Napoleon becoming angry with those of his generals and ministers who
served him ill or committed blunders. When, as now, the muscles of his
face relaxed, every wrinkle on his forehead expressed benevolence.
These two old people presented at this moment precisely the aspect of a
drooping plant to which a little water has given fresh life after long
dryness.

"Now, to dinner! to dinner!" cried the baron, offering his large hand to
his daughter, whom he called "Signora Piombellina,"--another symptom of
gayety, to which Ginevra replied by a smile.

"Ah ca!" said Piombo, as they left the table, "your mother has called
my attention to the fact that for some weeks you have stayed much longer
than usual at the studio. It seems that painting is more to you than
your parents--"

"Oh, father!"

"Ginevra is preparing some surprise for us, I think," said the mother.

"A picture of your own! will you bring us that?" cried the Corsican,
clapping his hands.

"Yes, I am very much occupied at the studio," replied Ginevra, rather
slowly.

"What is the matter, Ginevra? You are turning pale!" cried her mother.

"No!" exclaimed the young girl in a tone of resolution,--"no! it shall
never be said that Ginevra Piombo acted a lie."

Hearing this singular exclamation, Piombo and his wife looked at their
daughter in astonishment.

"I love a young man," she added, in a voice of emotion.

Then, not venturing to look at