overbearing with me,
even if he----For indeed he knows almost everything, and that is a fact!
He knows law, finance, music, flowers, fish, and the devil knows what
all else."

"And she?"

"She? Oh, she is a sly puss, but when she shows her claws they are worse
than his; much worse! When he is angry he turns red and makes a great
row, she turns pale and is devilish insolent. Of course I never tolerate
her insolence, but--well, you understand. She is a talented woman, I can
tell you. My Peppina is devoted to her. She is a woman who makes friends
everywhere. Here in Oria they often send for her instead of sending for
the doctor. If there is a quarrel in a family, they send for her. If an
animal has the stomach-ache, she must come. All the children run after
her, and she even makes little dolls for them at Carnival time. You
know, those little puppets. Moreover this woman can play on the spinet,
and knows French and German. I am so unfortunate as not to speak German,
so I have been to her several times to get German documents explained,
when such come to the office."

"Ah! So you go to the Maironis' house?"

"Yes, sometimes, for that purpose."

In truth the big mastiff also went there to get Franco to explain
certain enigmatical passages in the customs-tariff to him, but he did
not say so.

The Commissary continued his examination.

"And how is the house furnished?"

"Well, very well. Fine Venetian floorings, painted ceilings, sofas
heavily draped, a spinet, a splendid dining-room all hung with
portraits."

"And the Engineer-in-Chief?"

"The engineer is a jolly, old-fashioned, kind man; he resembles me,
though he is older. But he is not here much. He comes for two weeks
about this time of the year, and two weeks more in the Spring, and he
pays a few short visits in between. Just leave him alone, and let him
have his milk in the morning, his milk at night, his flask of Modena for
dinner, his game of _tarocchi_, and his _Milan Gazette_, and Engineer
Ribera is perfectly happy. But to return to Signor Maironi's beard.
There is something even worse! I discovered yesterday that the gentleman
has planted a jasmine in a wooden box painted red!"[J]

The Commissary, a man of parts, and probably in his secret heart,
indifferent to all colours save that of his own complexion and his own
tongue, could not refrain from slightly shrugging his shoulders.
Nevertheless, he presently asked--

"Is the plant in blossom?"

"I