Footnotes
[ [M] Mascherponi: A sort of common cheese made in Lodi. [Translator's note.]
CHAPTER VIII
HOURS OF BITTERNESS
On the last day of the year, while Franco was writing out the very minute directions concerning the care of the flowers and the kitchen-garden, which he intended to leave for his wife's guidance, and the uncle sat reading for the tenth time his favourite book, the History of the Diocese of Como, Luisa went out for a walk with Maria. The sun was shining brightly. There was no snow save on Bisgnago and Galbiga. Maria found a violet near the cemetery, and another down in the Calcinera. There it was really warm, and the air was pleasantly scented with laurel. Luisa sat down to think, with her back to the hill, and allowed Maria to amuse herself by climbing up the bank behind her, and sliding down again on the dry grass.
She had not seen the Professor since Christmas Eve, and she longed to speak with him; not to hear the story of the Maironi will over again, but to get him to tell her about his interview with Franco, when he had shown it to him: to ascertain what Franco's first impression had been and what the Professor's opinion was. As the will had been destroyed, all this could only be of psychological importance, but Luisa's curiosity was not the curiosity of the idle observer. Her husband's conduct had deeply wounded her. Thinking of it over and over again, as she had done ever since Christmas Eve, she had arrived at the conclusion that his silence towards her had been an outrage against justice and affection. It was a bitter sorrow to her to feel her esteem for him diminishing, especially bitter now, on the eve of his departure, and at a time when he really deserved praise. She would have liked, at least, to know that when Gilardoni had shown him the documents there had been some inward struggle, that a more just sentiment had been aroused in his soul, if only for a moment. She rose, took Maria by the hand, and started towards Casarico.
She found the Professor in the garden with Pinella, and told Maria to run and play with the boy, but Maria, always eager to listen to the conversation of her elders, would not hear of going. Then Luisa broached the subject without mentioning any names. She wished to speak to the Professor about certain papers, about those old letters. The Professor, who was crimson, protested that he did not understand. Fortunately, Pinella called Maria, enticing her with a picture-book, and she ran to him, conquered by her curiosity concerning the book. Then Luisa relieved the Professor of his scruples, by informing him that Franco himself had told her everything, and she confessed to him that she had disapproved of her husband's conduct, that it had been, and still was a source of great sorrow to her——
"Why, why, why?" said the worthy Professor, interrupting her. Because Franco had not been willing to do anything. "I have done something! I have done something!" Gilardoni exclaimed, anxiously and excitedly. "But for the love of Heaven, don't tell your husband!" Luisa was amazed. What had the Professor done? And when, and how? And was not the will already destroyed?