o her for a moment."

"Si, Signora."

Giulia looked at her Padrona, then added:

"Signora, I am sure I was right. I am sure that girl has the evil eye."

"Giulia, what nonsense! I have told you often that such ideas are silly.
Peppina has no power to do us harm. Poor girl, we ought to pity her."

Giulia's fat face was very grave and quite unconvinced.

"Signora, since she is here the island is not the same. The Signorina is
not the same, you are not the same, the French Signore is not the same.
Even Gaspare is different. One cannot speak with him now. Trouble is
with us all, Signora."

Hermione shook her head impatiently. But when Giulia was gone she
thought of her words about Gaspare. Words, even the simplest, spoken
just before some great moment of a life, some high triumph, or deep
catastrophe, stick with resolution in the memory. Lucrezia had once said
of Gaspare on the terrace before the Casa del Prete: "One cannot
speak with him to-day." That was on the evening of the night on which
Maurice's dead body was found. Often since then Hermione had thought
that Gaspare had seemed to have a prevision of the disaster that was
approaching.

And now Giulia said of him: "One cannot speak with him now."

The same words. Was Gaspare a stormy petrel?

There came a knock at the door of the sitting-room, to which Hermione
had gone to wait for the coming of Peppina.

"Come in."

The door opened and the disfigured girl entered, looking anxious.

"Come in, Peppina. It's all right. I only want to speak to you for a
moment."

Hermione spoke kindly, but Peppina still looked nervous.

"Si, Signora," she murmured.

And she remained standing near the door, looking down.

"Peppina," Hermione said, "I'm going to ask you something, and I want
you to tell me the truth without being afraid."

"Si, Signora."

"You remember, when I took you, I told you not to say anything to my
daughter, the Signorina, about your past life, your aunt, and--and all
you had gone through. Have you said anything?"

Peppina looked more frightened.

"Signora," she began. "Madonna! It was not my fault, it was not my
fault!"

She raised her voice, and began to gesticulate.

"Hush, Peppina. Now don't be afraid of me."

"You are my preserver, Signora! My saint has forgotten me, but you--"

"I will not leave you to the streets. You must trust me. And now tell
me--quietly--what have you told the Signorina?"

And presently Peppina was induce