ff and gone.

"Gaspare!" she said, but not angrily.

Her instinct told her that he was obliged to be utterly natural just then
under the spell of some violent feeling. She knew he loved his padrone.
The feeling must be one of anxiety. But it was absurd to be so anxious.
It was ridiculous, hysterical. She said to herself that it was Gaspare's
excitement that was affecting her. She was catching his mood.

"My dear Gaspare," she said, "we must just wait. The padrone will be here
in a minute. Perhaps he has come up by Marechiaro. Very likely he has
looked in at the hotel to see how the sick signore is after his day up
here. That is it, I feel sure."

She looked at him for agreement and met his stern and flaming eyes,
utterly unmoved by what she had said, utterly unconvinced. At this moment
she could not deny that this untrained, untutored nature had power over
hers. She let go his arm and sat down by the wall.

"Let us wait out here for a minute," she said.

"Va bene, signora."

He stood there quite still, but she felt as if in this unnatural
stillness there was violent movement, and she looked away from him. It
was fully night now. She gazed down at the ravine. By that way Maurice
would come, unless he really had gone to Marechiaro to see Artois. She
had suggested to Gaspare that this might be the reason of Maurice's
delay, but she knew that she did not think it was. Yet what other reason
could there be? He swam splendidly. She said that to herself. She kept on
saying it. Why?

Slowly the minutes crept by. The silence around them was intense, yet she
felt no calm, no peace in it. Like the stillness of Gaspare it seemed to
be violent. It began to frighten her. She began to wish for movement, for
sound. Presently a light shone in the cottage.

"Signora! Signora!"

Lucrezia's voice was calling.

"What is it?" she said.

"Supper is quite ready, signora."

"The signore has not come back yet. He is a little late."

Lucrezia came to the top of the steps.

"Where can the signore be, signora?" she said. "It only takes--"

Her voice died suddenly away. Hermione looked quickly at Gaspare, and saw
that he was gazing ferociously at Lucrezia as if to bid her be silent.

"Gaspare!" Hermione said, suddenly getting up.

"Signora?"

"I--it's odd the signore's not coming."

The boy answered nothing.

"Perhaps--perhaps there really has been an--an accident."

She tried to speak lightly.

"I don't think he would k