"They may be, but they would not dare to go; they said so to-night, all of them."
"They have been speaking of it, then?"
"Oh, yes; of scarcely anything else. Grandmother said to-night that if you had not come to the villa, the belief in the shadows would have died away altogether."
"That is too ridiculous," interrupted Adelaide. "What can I have to do with them?"
"If you had not come," said Dionetta, "grandmother said our young master would not be here. It is because he is in the house, sleeping here for the first night for so many, many years, that the spirit of his mother appeared to him."
"But your grandmother has told me she did not believe in the shadows."
"My lady, I think she is changing her opinion--else she would never have said what she did. It is long since I have seen her so disturbed."
Adelaide rose from her chair, the fairest picture of womanhood eyes ever gazed upon. A picture an artist would have contemplated with delight. She stood still for a few moments, her hand resting on her writing-desk.
"Your grandmother does not like me, Dionetta."
"She has not said so, my lady," said Dionetta after an awkward pause.