to seize the hook. "A bite!"

Pasotti, much vexed, gazed into the water also, but declared he could
see nothing.

"He has made off, the wretch! But his mouth almost touched the hook. He
must have felt the prick!" said Don Giuseppe, sighing and straightening
himself up. He also had felt the prick of the hook, and was trying to
"make off" as the fish had done.

The other renewed his attack, but in vain. Don Giuseppe had seen
nothing, heard nothing, talked of nothing, knew nothing. Pasotti was
silent, and the priest in turn, threw out a bit of timid malice: "They
don't bite well to-day,--there must be something in the air."

In the house, meanwhile, the dialogue between Maria and Signora Barborin
had proceeded most unsatisfactorily, after the first affectionate
exchange of greetings, which had been a great success. Maria proposed by
gestures that they go into the garden, but Signora Pasotti begged with
clasped hands, to be allowed to remain in her chair. Then the big Maria
took another chair, and seating herself beside her guest tried to talk
to her. But she found it impossible to make her understand, no matter
how she shrieked, so gave up in despair, and taking her great cat upon
her lap, talked to him instead.

Poor Signora Barborin, who was quite resigned, watched the cat with her
great black eyes, dimmed by age and grief. Ah! here was Pasotti at last,
with Don Giuseppe, who at once began to puff out his:

"Oh, good Lord! My dear Signora Barborin! Pray excuse me!" Maria having
confessed to the _Scior Controlor_ that his wife and she had not been
able to understand each other, her master--as a mark of respect for
Signora Pasotti--called the servant a "block head," and, as she
attempted to justify herself, he prudently checked her by an imperious
wave of the hand and a string of "there, there, there's." Then he
signalled to her mysteriously with his head, and she left the room.
Pasotti followed her, and told her that his wife really felt obliged to
call on the Rigeys, but was in doubt as to how she should act, having
heard certain rumours which were current, and that she had greatly hoped
to gain some information from Maria, for "Maria always knew everything."

"What foolish talk!" said Maria, much flattered. "I never know anything;
but I can tell you to whom your wife must apply. To Signor Giacomo
Puttini. It is Signor Giacomo Puttini who always knows everything."

"Well done!" thought Pasotti, adding these rema