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He had read
in the papers of the violence done to her, and had at once dismissed
her from his mind with a muttered "Povera Ragazza!"
She was no longer beautiful.
And now he discovered her living as a servant with the ladies of the
island. Who could have put her there? He thought of Emilio's colloquy
with Maria Fortunata. But the Signora? A mother? What did it all mean?
Even the madness of the English could scarcely be so pronounced as to
make such a proceeding as this quite a commonplace manifestation of
the national life and eccentricity. He could not believe that.
He stepped into his boat. As the sailors rowed it out from the Pool--
the wind had gone down and the sails were useless--he looked earnestly
up to the windows of the Casa del Mare, longing to pierce its secrets.
What was Emilio in that house? A lover, a friend, a bad genius? And
the Signora? What was she?
The Marchesino was no believer in the virtue of women. But the lack of
beauty in Hermione, and her age, rendered him very doubtful as to her
role in the life on the island.


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