_cerretano_ and the marriage,
and his allowing Tessa to part from him in delusion, must never be known
to Romola, and since no enlightenment could expel it from Tessa's mind,
there would always be a risk of betrayal; besides even little Tessa
might have some gall in her when she found herself disappointed in her
love--yes, she _must_ be a little in love with him, and that might make
it well that he should not see her again. Yet it was a trifling
adventure such as a country girl would perhaps ponder on till some ruddy
contadino made acceptable love to her, when she would break her
resolution of secrecy and get at the truth that she was free.
_Dunque_--good-bye, Tessa! kindest wishes! Tito had made up his mind
that the silly little affair of the _cerretano_ should have no further
consequences for himself; and people are apt to think that resolutions
taken on their own behalf will be firm. As for the fifty-five florins,
the purchase-money of the ring, Tito had made up his mind what to do
with some of them; he would carry out a pretty ingenious thought which
would set him more at ease in accounting for the absence of his ring to
Romola, and would also serve him as a means of guarding her mind from
the recurrence of those monkish fancies which were especially repugnant
to him; and with this thought in his mind, he went to the Via Gualfonda
to find Piero di Cosimo, the artist who at that time was pre-eminent in
the fantastic mythological design which Tito's purpose required.

Entering the court on which Piero's dwelling opened, Tito found the
heavy iron knocker on the door thickly bound round with wool and
ingeniously fastened with cords. Remembering the painter's practice of
stuffing his ears against obtrusive noises, Tito was not much surprised
at this mode of defence against visitors' thunder, and betook himself
first to tapping modestly with his knuckles, and then to a more
importunate attempt to shake the door. In rain! Tito was moving away,
blaming himself for wasting his time on this visit, instead of waiting
till he saw the painter again at Nello's, when a little girl entered the
court with a basket of eggs on her arm, went up to the door, and
standing on tiptoe, pushed up a small iron plate that ran in grooves,
and putting her mouth to the aperture thus disclosed, called out in a
piping voice, "Messer Piero!"

In a few moments Tito heard the sound of bolts, the door opened, and
Piero presented himself in a red