d. "I will listen to
no protestations. And, for the rest, you may count upon my absolute
discretion.

'She is the darling of my heart
And she lives in our valley,'"

he carolled softly.

"E del mio cuore la carina,
E dimor' nella nostra vallettina,"

he obligingly translated. "But for all the good I get of her, she might
as well live on the top of the Cornobastone," he added dismally. "Yes,
now you may bring me my coffee--only, let it be tea. When your coffee is
coffee it keeps me awake at night."

Marietta trudged back to her kitchen, nodding at the sky.

The next afternoon, however, the Duchessa di Santangiolo appeared on the
opposite bank of the tumultuous Aco.

IX

Peter happened to be engaged in the amiable pastime of tossing
bread-crumbs to his goldfinches.

But a score or so of sparrows, vulture-like, lurked under cover of the
neighbouring foliage, to dash in viciously, at the critical moment, and
snatch the food from the finches' very mouths.

The Duchessa watched this little drama for a minute, smiling, in silent
meditation: while Peter--who, for a wonder, had his back turned to the
park of Ventirose, and, for a greater wonder still perhaps, felt no
pricking in his thumbs--remained unconscious of her presence.

At last, sorrowfully, (but there was always a smile at the back of her
eyes), she shook her head.

"Oh, the pirates, the daredevils," she sighed.

Peter started; faced about; saluted.

"The brigands," said she, with a glance towards the sparrows' outposts.

"Yes, poor things," said he.

"Poor things?" cried she, indignant. "The unprincipled little monsters!"

"They can't help it," he pleaded for them. "'It is their nature to.'
They were born so. They had no choice."

"You actually defend them!" she marvelled, rebukefully.

"Oh, dear, no," he disclaimed. "I don't defend them. I defend nothing.
I merely recognise and accept. Sparrows--finches. It's the way of the
world--the established division of the world."

She frowned incomprehension.

"The established division of the world--?"

"Exactly," said he. "Sparrows--finches the snatchers and the
snatched-from. Everything that breathes is either a sparrow or a finch.
'T is the universal war--the struggle for existence--the survival of
the most unscrupulous. 'T is a miniature presentment of what's going on
everywhere in earth and sky."

She shook her head again.

"YOU see t