Marzio has suddenly turned into a sugar doll," answered
Gianbattista, with a laugh. "It may be. They say they make sugar out of
all sorts of things nowadays."

"_Capperi!_ It would be hard!" exclaimed Maria Luisa. "If there is
enough sugar in him to sweeten a teaspoonful of coffee, write to me,"
she added ironically.

"Well--I shall be at the church in an hour, but it will be time enough
if you come at twenty-three o'clock--between twenty-two and
twenty-three." This means between one hour and two hours before sunset.
"The light is good then, for there is a big west window," added
Gianbattista in explanation.

"We will come before that," said Lucia. "Good-bye, Tista, and take care
not to catch cold in that damp place."

"And you too," he answered, "cover yourselves carefully."

With this injunction, and a parting wave of the hand, he left the house,
affecting a gay humour he did not really feel. His invitation to the two
women to join him in the church had another object besides that of
showing them the magnificent gilded grating which was to be put in
place. Gianbattista feared that Marzio had sent him upon this business
for the sake of getting him out of the way, and he did not know what
might happen in his absence. The artist might perhaps choose that time
for going in search of Gasparo Carnesecchi in order to bring him to the
house and precipitate the catastrophe which the apprentice still feared,
in spite of the last events of the morning. It was not unusual for Maria
Luisa and her daughter to accompany him and Marzio when a finished work
was to be set up, and Gianbattista knew that there could be no
reasonable objection to such, a proceeding.

With an anxious heart he left the house and crossed the street to the
workshop where the men were already waiting for the carts which were to
convey the heavy grating to its destination. The pieces were standing
against the walls, wrapped in tow and brown paper, and immense parcels
lay tied up upon the benches. It was a great piece of work of the
decorative kind, but of the sort for which Marzio cared little. Great
brass castings were chiselled and finished according to his designs
without his touching them with his hands. Huge twining arabesques of
solid metal were prepared in pieces and fitted together with screws that
ran easily in the thread, and then were taken apart again. Then came the
laborious work of gilding by the mercury process, smearing every piece
very c