mining the row of mirrors, the tables, the musicians, then settling
comfortably upon his Padrona. Over his arms he carried the cloaks,
and his hands grasped the two umbrellas. At that moment, if she had
translated her impulse into an action, Hermione would have given Gaspare
a good hug--just for being himself; for being always the same:
honest, watchful, perfectly fearless, perfectly natural, and perfectly
determined to take care of his Padrona and his Padroncina.

Afterwards she remembered that she had found in his presence relief from
something that had distressed her in her friend.

"Signora, the storm is coming. Look at the sea!" said Gaspare. He
pointed to the white line which was advancing in the blackness.

"I told the Signorina, and that Signore--"

A fierce flash of lightning zigzagged across the window-space, and
suddenly the sound of the wind was loud upon the sea, and mingled with
the growing murmur of waves.

"Ecco!" said Gaspare. "Signora, you ought to start at once. But the
Signor Marchese--"

The thunder followed. Hermione had been waiting for it, and felt almost
relieved when it came crashing above the Scoglio di Frisio.

"The Signor Marchese, Gaspare?" she asked, putting on the cloak he was
holding for her.

"He only laughs, Signora," said Gaspare, rather contemptuously. "The
Signor Marchese thinks only of his pleasure."

"Well, he must think of yours now," said Artois, decisively, to
Hermione. "You will have a rough voyage to the island, even as it is."

They were walking towards the entrance. Hermione had noticed the
pronoun, and said quietly:

"You will take a carriage to the hotel, or a tram?"

"The tram, I think. It passes the door here."

He glanced at her and added:

"I noticed that the cabin of the launch is very small, and as Gaspare is
with you--"

"Oh, of course!" she said quickly. "It would be ridiculous for you to
come all the way back with us. Besides, there is not room in the cabin."

She did not know why, but she felt guilty for a moment. Yet she had done
nothing.

"There is the rain," said Artois.

They were just entering the outer room from which the terrace opened.

"Vere!" called Hermione.

As she called the lightning flashed again, and showed her Vere and the
Marchesino running in from the darkness. Vere was laughing, and looked
more joyous than before.

"Such a storm, Madre! The sea is a mass of foam. It's glorious! Hark at
the fishermen!"

From the bl