Volume I Part 4 (1/2)

She held her breath, and the colour rose in her thin little cheeks.

'May I touch it?' she asked, and drew one small forefinger carefully across the s.h.i.+ning blade. After a moment's consideration, 'Have you killed many giants with it?' she said; 'you know--like the fairy Prince.'

'Ay, hark to that, will you? there's a brave little girl for you!' said old Drea with an inward chuckle, and an irrepressible wink at Dino.

'She'd kill giants, would she? It's her mother all over.'

Gasparo laughed again. 'And what do you know about the fairy Prince?'

'Italia told me. He wore s.h.i.+ning clothes, and a sword, and he carried away the Princess from the enchanted tower. And he was beautiful to look at,--like you, Italia said----'

'Palmira!'

'Look here, my small friend,--oh, your name is Palmira, is it? Very well, then; look here, Palmira. Did no body ever explain to you that one is not allowed in this world to repeat what other people say until one is old enough to know better? No? Well, then, remember that. No girl is ever allowed to have her own way until she is old enough to do mischief. And now, look here.' He drew a ring off his finger, a plain band of gold set with a large turquoise. 'Do you think that is pretty?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Very pretty?'

'Yes, sir.'

'Well, then,--under the circ.u.mstances,--do you think if we asked Sor Drea, you and I, to let us give it to Italia, because it is her birthday, and because I have not brought her any other present, do you think he would let us do it, Palmira? Here, take the ring and ask him.'

Italia put down her guitar and stood up. She gave one rapid glance at Dino, and turned very pale. 'The Signor Marchese is too kind, father.

Indeed, I do not want the ring. It is--it is too beautiful for me. I should lose it.'

'Nay,' said Drea simply, 'since the signor Marchese wishes to give it to you, child----' He turned the bauble over curiously upon the curved and hardened palm of his hand. 'Craving your pardon, signor Gasparo, but is it gold?'

Gasparo put his hand up to his mouth and twisted his moustache to conceal a smile. 'Certainly,' he said.

'Real gold? _Diamine_! it is not often that I've handled it. And that little blue thing there in the middle, has that got a name of its own?'

''Tis a turquoise. They are said to bring good luck and happiness,'

the young man said carelessly enough. And then he looked with a certain reproach at Italia. 'If I had known I might have found you something that would have pleased you better----'

'No one ever made me a present before. I--Father knows that I am not used to them,' the girl said shyly. She took Palmira's hand in hers, and began stroking the little fingers.

'Nay, take it, my little girl, take it. And put it away in some safe place. Keep it to be married with. 'Twill be so much money saved when we come to think of your wedding. And 'twill be a fine thing to remember--when you've got children of your own--that you were married with a gold ring off our young master's own finger. It was very kind of you to think of it, sir; it's not every one would ha' thought of anything so kind. You must excuse my little girl if she didn't seem to thank you properly. It's only that she is not used to being made so much of; it's not that she's ungrateful or lacking in her duty.'

He spoke with a simple earnestness which was not devoid of dignity.

'I like old Drea. He's such a good old boy. There's not a more honest old fellow in Leghorn,' Gasparo said cordially, a few moments later, as the two young men came out into the cold night air together. 'The devil take that wind if it is not beginning to blow a _libeccio_! That child will be blown over the steps if you don't look after her. Been out in Drea's boat much this winter, Dino?'

'No, sir.'

'Too rough, eh? Yet I remember you used to beat me at managing a boat when we were little chaps together. _Che diavolo_! how time flies! It seems only yesterday--until one looks at that girl in there. There's a beauty if you like. What eyes! and did you ever notice how she smiles with 'em?'

Palmira felt her brother's fingers closing with a sudden thrill upon her own. He did not answer for nearly a minute. 'If you are speaking of Italia, sir----'

Gasparo burst into a wild laugh. 'Oh, no! How could you think it? I was speaking of the other woman, of course. Maria--Lucia--what's her name? Your little dressmaking friend with the beads. How she did look at me, _per Bacco_! you would have thought I was in league with the very devil himself.'