"Cüstant has sent us a present of a magnificent tench which he caught this morning, much to the chagrin of Bianconi, who fishes all day long, and never catches anything. He is furious with the impudent tench because they snap their fingers—so to speak—at His Imperial and Royal Majesty of Austria and his Carlascia. 'Poor fellow!' says Signora Peppina. 'He is eating his heart out!'
"However, he will get over it, he will get over it.
"September 15.
"I related the Pasotti episode to Uncle Piero and he was very much annoyed. 'Much good this will do you!' he said. Poor Uncle! One might almost suspect him of being a utilitarian, whereas he is really a philosopher. After all the strongest argument he ever opposes to all my burning indignation against the many ugly things in this world is: 'Worrying won't mend it!'
"To-day the parish Mass was said at Albogasio Superiore. In coming out of church with Maria I caught a despairing glance from poor Barborin, who evidently had orders to avoid me. However, Ester walked down with us and coming into the house told me privately something I have been expecting to hear. She began by begging me not to laugh, while all the time she was laughing herself. I succeeded in gathering that the Professor, by dint of great perseverance, has overcome her resistance, although Ester still declares she does not know her own mind.
"'It is his nose!' she said this morning, laughing and hiding her gay little face. Indeed that scandalous nose seems to me to be prospering; it is redder than ever, and grows ever larger!
"I have not written for three days, fearing I should not be mistress of my pen, nor be able to confine my thoughts within words which must not exceed certain bounds. Now I feel equal to the task, and so I will set about it. But I must warn you, Franco, that I am not sure of being able to control my feelings all the way through.
"Well, then, your grandmother's agent came to me on the evening of the fifteenth. As the half-yearly payment of your income is due on the sixteenth, I concluded he had come to bring the five hundred svanziche, and so I told him at once that I would go and prepare the receipt for him. Then the most gracious Signor Bellini informed me that my receipt would not be sufficient. 'How can that be?' I said. 'It was sufficient on the sixteenth of March.' 'I don't know,' he replied. 'I have my orders.' 'But Franco is not here.' 'I know that.' 'Then what did you come here for?' 'I came to tell you that if Don Franco wishes to draw his money he must present himself at the Signora Marchesa's agency in Brescia.' 'And what if he cannot go to Brescia?' Here Signor Bellini made a gesture that meant, 'That is your affair.' I replied that it was all right, had coffee brought for him, and told him I was anxious to purchase the book-shelves in your old study at Cressogno from the Signora Marchesa. Bellini turned yellow, and sneaked away like our old dog Pato at Casa Rigey when he had been stealing.
"Most certainly the worthy Pasotti has had a finger in this dirty business.