"Will you promise faithfully to go, mother?" asked the boy.
"I will, indeed," replied the distracted lady, and, soothed by her words, the child fell into a refreshing sleep.
The morrow was a bright September day, and Monna Giovanna felt hope revive within her heart as she gazed on her child still peacefully sleeping. The birds were singing sweetly and the dew lay heavy on the grass as two lovely ladies, clothed in hoods and cloaks, passed through the garden-gate into the woods, where the trees had just donned their autumn dress of russet and gold. One of these ladies had her rich dark hair closely covered by her hood. Her eyes were wet with tears, but her face was only made more beautiful by its look of deep sorrow. Her companion was a young girl who walked with light steps, her hood thrown back, and her hair shining with its wealth of gold; her cheeks were tinted like the apple-blossom, and her heart full of joyous thoughts. These were Monna Giovanna and her friend, who, with thoughts intent on their errand, hastened towards the little farm.
They found Ser Federigo digging the ground like Adam of old, and when he beheld these fair ladies, his garden seemed to become a second Eden and the river, flowing by, like the stream which watered Paradise.
Beautiful as was Monna Giovanna's young companion, Ser Federigo had no eyes for anyone but his dear lady, who, at first doubtful as to how she should begin her errand, soon raised her stately head and addressed him in kindly tones.
"Ser Federigo," said she, "I and my companion come hither to see you in friendship, trusting by this means to make some amends for my unkindness to you in the past. In former days I would not so much as cross the threshold of your door; I refused your banquets and rejected your gifts. But this morning I am here, self-invited, to put your generous nature to the test, and therefore ask if we may breakfast with you beneath your vine?"
Humbly Ser Federigo made reply: "Speak not of your unkindness to me, for if there is within me any good or generous feeling it is to you I owe it, and this gracious favor you do me in seeking me here is sufficient to outweigh all my sorrows and regrets of former years."
After a little further talk had passed between them, Ser Federigo asked his guests to wait in his garden for a brief space while he went to give orders for breakfast. As he entered his cottage his thoughts dwelt regretfully on the gold and silver plate and the ruby glass which had once been his, and it vexed him sorely that his humble abode was lacking in every luxury.
Matters were even worse than the poor host had anticipated; he searched every cupboard and ransacked every shelf, but could find nothing. Then he summoned the maid and asked why it was that provisions had failed them. "The Signor forgets that he did not hunt to-day," replied the girl. "We have nothing but bread and wine in the house, and fruit from the garden."