ttuno myself."

She loved him and believed in him, and she was comforted when she saw
him go away and heard him calling the men from their hut.

Aurora was left alone with the two women.

"I am afraid Marcello is gone to Rome," she said, with an effort.

The Signora raised herself in her long chair and stared hard at the
girl. The Contessa looked at her in surprise.

"What do you know about it?" cried the Signora. "Why have you not
spoken, if you know anything? Don't you see that I am half mad with
anxiety?"

Aurora had never seen the good lady in such a state, and was almost
frightened; but there was nothing to be done now, except to go on. She
told her little story timidly, but truthfully, looking from her mother
to the Signora while she spoke, and wondering what would happen when she
had finished.

"He said, 'You shall wish me back, but I will not come.' I think those
were his last words."

"You have broken my boy's heart!" cried the Signora Corbario, turning
her face away.

Maddalena, whose heart had really been broken long ago, could not help
smiling.

"I am sure I did not mean to," cried Aurora, contritely. "And after all,
though I daresay it was my fault, he called me a miserable little flirt,
and I only called him a baby."

Maddalena would have laughed if her friend had not been in such real
distress. As for Aurora, she did not know whether she would have laughed
or cried if she had not felt that her girl's dignity was at stake. As it
was, she grew preternaturally calm.

"You have driven him away," moaned the Signora piteously. "You have
driven away my boy! Was he not good enough for you?"

She asked the question suddenly and vehemently, turning upon poor Aurora
with something like fury. She was quite beside herself, and the Contessa
motioned the girl away. Aurora rose and disappeared round the corner of
the house.

Alone with her friend, Maddalena did her best to comfort her. There were
arguments enough: it was barely noon, and Marcello had not been gone
four hours; he was used to taking long walks, he had probably gone as
far as the tower, and had rested there before coming back; or he had
gone to meet Ercole on the road to Porto d'Anzio; or he had gone off
towards the Nettuno woods to get over his anger in solitude; it was
natural enough; and after all, if he had gone to Rome as Aurora
thought, no harm could come to him, for he would go home, and would
surely send a telegram before evening.