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Her wet face had become
thoughtful, and for a moment she said nothing.
"And what did mother say?" she asked, looking up again. "But I know. I
am sure she laughed at you."
Gaspare looked rather offended. His expressive face, which always
showed what he was feeling, became almost stern, and he began to row
faster than before.
"Why should the Signora laugh? Am I an imbecile, Signorina?"
"You?"
She hastened to correct the impression she had made.
"Why, Gaspare, you are our Providence!"
"Va bene, but--"
"I only meant that I am sure Madre wouldn't agree with you. She thinks
me quite a child. I know that."
She spoke with conviction, nodding her head.
"Perhaps the Signora does not see."
Vere smiled.
"Gaspare, I believe you are horribly sharp," she said. "I often think
you notice everything. You are birbante, I am half afraid of you."
Gaspare smiled, too. He had quite recovered his good humor. It pleased
him mightily to fancy he had seen what the Padrona had not seen.


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