Still he was careful not to drop the veil that hid his real thoughts so carefully in the presence of his suspicious uncle.
CONFESSING ALL TO THE WONDER-WORKING SAINT
"Pleasure? Ho! ho! my dear Luigi, I thought as much. Young men, young men! I have not forgotten my own youth yet—a little wild it was." He chuckled half to himself, in a low voice.
"Can I—see my fiancee now?" Luigi asked, in a half stifled voice.
"Now? So early? No, dear boy, she is still among her pillows—dreaming of you! Per Dio! today, though, is the great festival of Saint Cecelia. Our good neighbors from Torre del Greco, Portici, and Torre Annunziata will be sure to gather at Castellamare. We must go too. You shall go with Lucetta in my victoria with the four fiery Arabs, and I will follow the happy pair in a plainer carriage," continued the old baron with nods of pleasure.
It was at the same festival, at the chapel of Saint Cecelia, that he hoped this very evening to meet Concetta. The room seemed to spin round him and grow dark. "By your leave, my dear uncle, I must go at once to the club. You know, the joyful news—"
"Of your engagement?"