s. She was anxious to get home, for she could not rely
either upon Cia or Uncle Piero to look after Maria, and she had little
confidence in the girl to whom she had given notice. She found Maria
alone on the church-place, and scolded Veronica. Then she went to her
room and began a letter to Franco.

She had been writing about five minutes when she heard a gentle tap on
the window of the adjoining room. That window looked out upon a short
flight of steps, leading from the square by the church to some stables,
and thence to a short cut to Albogasio Superiore. Luisa went into the
little room, and saw behind the iron grating the red and distracted
countenance of Barborin Pasotti, who motioned to her to be quiet, and
asked if she had visitors. Upon being reassured, Barborin glanced
swiftly up and down, and hastily descending the steps entered the house
in great trepidation.

Poor woman, she was on forbidden ground, and before her loomed the
spectre of the wrathful Pasotti. Pasotti was in Lugano. "Oh, Lord, yes!
In Lugano." Having imparted this information to Luisa the unhappy woman
began to roll her eyes and squirm. Pasotti had gone to Lugano on account
of the great dinner that was to take place on the morrow--to purchase
provisions. How? Had Luisa not heard about the dinner? Did she not know
who was coming? Why! The Signora Marchesa! The Signora Marchesa Maironi!
Luisa started.

Barborin, misunderstanding the expression of her eyes, thought she read
a reproach there, and began to cry, her face buried in her hands,
shaking those two poor black curls, and saying through her fingers that
she was so distressed about it, so distressed! She would rather have
lived on bread and water for a year than invite the Marchesa to dinner.
This dinner was indeed a cross to her, for it took a deal of thought,
and then there was the trouble of preparing everything, to say nothing
of Pasotti's awful scoldings, but the worst part of it all was the idea
of displeasing Luisa. If, at least, it had been a cross she could lay
at the feet of our Lord, but she could not do that, for it contained too
much wrath. She had come on purpose to tell her Luisa how distressed she
was on account of this dinner.

"Forgive me, Luisa!" she said in her hoarse voice, that seemed to come
out of an ancient and tightly closed spinet. "I really could not prevent
it, indeed I could not, indeed I could not!"

They were seated side by side on the sofa. Barborin drew a