ings enclosing
the court, were kitchens, laundry, carpenter shop, stables, _et
cetera_. Big arched ways led from the cortile into the kitchen garden
and the open country beyond.

When the Marchesa had come to Le Vigne as a bride forty years ago, she
had regretted that it did not lie in the mountainous portion of the
Lake. Now she had grown to love this wistful, reedy shore more than any
other part of Lago Maggiore.

She stepped out in the big _darsena_ with a sigh of pleasure, and walked
across the lawn, stopping to put a spray of white oleander in her belt.

Marco and his mother dined on the terrace, at a little table set with
old Lodi ware. There was a bowl of white oleander--the Marchesa's
favourite flower--in the centre. Its fragile blossoms gave off a perfume
strangely heady and spiritual at the same time--a faint, sweet perfume
as of blossomed peach-kernels.

The dusk came on gradually, spangled with stars and fireflies. All the
clouds had melted from the sky. It spread above them like an endless
expanse of violet smoke, glittering with vari-coloured sparks.

"No rain for to-morrow, _caro mio_," said the Marchesa, as she and
Amaldi sat smoking companionably after dinner, each in a long willow
chair. "I can go villa-hunting with your charming friend to-morrow,
beyond a doubt."

"Yes. That's good," said Amaldi.

The Marchesa glanced at him. He was smoking contentedly, with a very
tranquil expression on his face. It was still light enough to see even
the colours of flowers quite plainly. The Marchesa put her own cigarette
back between her lips. Then she took it out and looked at it, smiling.

"You haven't noticed my new _splendore_, Marco," she said, waving the
gold-tipped cigarette towards him.

"Eh?" he said, as though rousing suddenly.

"These 'gilded luxuries,'" said his mother, indicating the cigarette
between her big, handsome fingers.

"Why, Baldi! What swagger!" he laughed, taking in the cigarette. This
name of "Baldi," by which both her sons sometimes addressed her, had
arisen from the fact that as a bride she had arrived in Italy with a
severe cold in her head, and had pronounced her new name "Abaldi." Her
husband had begun to call her "Baldi" for fun, in the honeymoon days.
Later on the children had taken it up. She associated it more with her
boys than with her husband, and liked them to call her so. Only when
very serious did they say "Maman."

"Yes. Don't you wonder how I came by such gor