Part 7 (1/2)

Marcello lost his temper.

”You are quite right,” he said angrily. ”You are not worth caring for.

You are a mere child, and you are a miserable little flirt already, and you will be a detestable woman when you grow up! You will lead men on, and play with them, and then laugh at them. But you shall not laugh at me again. You shall not have that satisfaction! You shall wish me back, but I will not come, not if you break your silly little heart!”

With this terrific threat the boy strode away, leaving her to watch the storm alone in the lee of the sandbank. Aurora knew that he really meant to go this time, and at first she was rather glad of it, since he was in such a very bad temper. She felt that he had insulted her, and if he had stayed any longer she would doubtless have called him a brute, that being the woman's retort under the circ.u.mstances. She had not the slightest doubt of being quite reconciled with him before luncheon, of course, but in her heart she wished that she had not made him angry. It had been very pleasant to watch the storm together, and when they had come to the place, she had felt a strong presentiment that he would kiss her, and that the contrast between the kiss and the howling gale would be very delightful.

The presentiment had certainly not come true, and now that Marcello was gone it was not very amusing to feel the spray and the sand on her face, or to watch the tumbling breakers and listen to the wind. Besides, she had been there some time, and she had not even had her little breakfast of coffee and rolls before coming down to the sh.o.r.e. She suddenly felt hungry and cold and absurdly inclined to cry, and she became aware that the sand had got into her russet shoes, and that it would be very uncomfortable to sit down in such a place to take them off and shake it out; and that, altogether, misfortunes never come singly.

After standing still three or four minutes longer, she turned away with a discontented look in her face, all rosy with the wind and spray. She started as she saw Corbario standing before her, for she had not heard his footsteps in the gale. He wore his shooting-coat and heavy leathern gaiters, but he had no gun. She thought he looked pale, and that there was a shade of anxiety in his usually expressionless face.

”We wondered where you were,” he said. ”There is coffee in the verandah, and your mother is out already.”

”I came down to look at the storm,” Aurora answered. ”I forgot all about breakfast.”

They made a few steps in the direction of the cottage. Aurora felt that Corbario was looking sideways at her as they walked.

”Have you seen Marcello?” he asked presently.

”Did you not meet him?” Aurora was surprised. ”It is not five minutes since he left me.”

”No. I did not meet him.”

”That is strange.”

They went on in silence for a few moments.

”I cannot understand why you did not meet Marcello,” Aurora said suddenly, as if she had thought it over. ”Did you come this way?”

”Yes.”

”Perhaps he got back before you started. He walks very fast.”

”Perhaps,” Corbario said, ”but I did not see him. I came to look for you both.”

”Expecting to find us together, of course!” Aurora threw up her head a little disdainfully, for Marcello had offended her.

”He is generally somewhere near you, poor boy,” answered Corbario in a tone of pity.

”Why do you say 'poor boy' in that tone? Do you think he is so much to be pitied?”

”A little, certainly.” Corbario smiled.

”I don't see why.”

”Women never do, when a man is in love!”

”Women”--the flattery was subtle and Aurora's face cleared. Corbario was a man of the world, without doubt, and he had called her a woman, in a most natural way, as if she had been at least twenty years old. It did not occur to her to ask herself whether Folco had any object in wis.h.i.+ng to please her just then, but she knew well enough that he did wish to do so. Even a girl's instinct is unerring in that; and Corbario further pleased her by not pursuing the subject, for what he had said seemed all the more spontaneous because it led to nothing.

”If Marcello is not in the cottage,” he observed, as they came near, ”he must have gone off for a walk after he left you. Did you not see which way he turned?”

”How could I from the place where I stood?” asked Aurora in reply. ”As soon as he had turned behind the bank it was impossible to say which way he had gone.”