olea fragrans_, the
absence of all wind, the vaporous mountains of the Lake of Como, white
with snow, all said, with one melancholy accord, that the sweet season
was dying. When he had exterminated the withered brushwood Franco
proposed to his wife that they should go to Casarico in their boat, and
return the two first volumes of the _Mysteres du Peuple_ which they had
eagerly devoured in a few days, to their friend Gilardoni, and borrow
the next volume from him. They decided to start after lunch, when Maria
should have gone to bed. But before Maria had been put to bed Barborin
Pasotti appeared, all out of breath, her bonnet and mantle askew. She
had come up from the garden-gate, and now stopped on the threshold of
the hall. It was the first time she had been to see them since the
search. Upon catching sight of her friends she clasped her hands, and
kept repeating in a low tone: "Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord! Oh, Lord!" Then she
flung herself upon Luisa and covered her with kisses.

"My dear girl! My dear girl!" she exclaimed. She would have liked to
treat Franco in the same way, but Franco was not favourable to this sort
of emotion, and his expression was not encouraging, so the poor woman
had to be satisfied with taking both his hands and shaking them
heartily. "My dear Don Franco! My dear Don Franco!" Finally she gathered
Maria into her arms, but the child planted her two little hands upon
Barborin's chest, her face wearing an expression similar to her
father's. "I am old, am I not? And ugly? You don't like me? Well, never
mind, never mind!" And she fell to kissing the child's arms and
shoulders humbly, not daring to brave the sour little face. Then she
told her friends she had brought them a piece of good news, and her eyes
sparkled at the pleasant mystery. The Marchesa had written to Pasotti,
and one passage in the letter Barborin had committed to memory. "It was
with the deepest regret (deepest regret, those were the very words) that
I learned of the sad affair at Oria ... at Oria ... (wait a moment) the
sad affair at Oria ... (ah!) and although my grandson is most
undeserving (wait! ... have patience!) I trust that it may have no
unpleasant consequences." The passage did not produce any great effect.
Luisa frowned and said nothing. Franco glanced at his wife, and did not
dare to utter the favourable comment he had on his lips, but not in his
heart. Poor Barborin, who had taken advantage of her husband's absence
at Lugano t