e--not to speak of certain notes he slipped into her
hand--have quite conquered her. Besides, had Count Nobili not come
down, the noble gentleman, like San Michele, with golden wings behind
him, and a terrible lance in his hand, as set forth in a dingy fresco
in the church at Corellia--come down and rescued the dear signorina
when--oh, horrible!--she had been forgotten in the burning tower?
Pipa's joy develops itself in a vain endeavor to clean the entire
villa. With characteristic discernment, she has begun her labors in
the upper story, which, being unfurnished, no one ever enters. Pipa
has set open all the windows, and thrown back all the blinds; Pipa
sweeps and sprinkles, and sweeps again, combating with dust, and fleas
and insects innumerable, grown bold by a quiet tenancy of nearly fifty
years. While she sweeps, Pipa sings:

"I'll build a house round, round, quite round,
For us to live at ease, all three;
Father and mother there shall dwell,
And my true love with me."

Poor Pipa! It is so pleasant to hear her clear voice caroling overhead
like a bird from the open window, and to see her bright face looking
out now and then, her gold ear-rings bobbing to and fro--her black
rippling hair, and her merry eyes blinded with dust and flue--to
swallow a breath of air. Adamo does not work, but Pipa does. If she
goes on like this, Pipa may hope to clean the entire floor in a month;
of the great sala below, and the other rooms where people live, Pipa
does not think. It is not her way to think; she lives by happy, rosy
instinct.

Pipa chatters much to Enrica about Count Nobili and her marriage when
she is not sweeping or spinning. Enrica continually catches sight of
her staring at her with open mouth and curious eyes, her head a little
on one side the better to observe her.

"Sweet innocent! she knows nothing that is coming on her," Pipa is
thinking; and then Pipa winks, and laughs outright--laughs to the
empty walls, which echo the laugh back with a hollow sound.

But if any thing lurks there that mocks Pipa's mirth, it is not
visible to Pipa's outward eye, so she continues addressing herself to
Enrica, who is utterly bewildered by her strange ways.

Pipa cannot bear to think that Enrica never dressed for her betrothed.
"Poverina!" she says to her, "not dress--not dress! What degradation!
Why, when the Gobbina--a little starved hump-backed bastard--married
the blind beggar Gianni at Corellia, for the sake of