Dalrymple, however, was not much interested in the question of the baskets.
"What do the nuns do all day?" he asked. "I suppose you see them, sometimes. There must be young ones amongst them."
Annetta glanced more keenly at the Scotchman's quiet face, and then laughed.
"There is one, if you could see her! The abbess's niece. Oh, that one is beautiful. She seems to me a painted angel!"
"The abbess's niece? What is she like? Let me see, the abbess is a princess, is she not?"
"Yes, a great princess of the Princes of Gerano, of Casa Braccio, you know. They are always abbesses. And the young one will be the next, when this one dies. She is Maria Addolorata, in religion, but I do not know her real name. She has a beautiful face and dark eyes. Once I saw her hair for a moment. It is fair, but not like yours. Yours is red as a tomato."
"Thank you," said Dalrymple, with something like a laugh. "Tell me more about the nun."
"If I tell you, you will fall in love with her," objected Annetta. "They say that men with red hair fall in love easily. Is it true? If it is, I will not tell you any more about the nun. But I think you are in love with the poor old Grape-eater. It is good ham, is it not? By Bacchus, I fed him on chestnuts with my own hands, and he was always stealing the grapes. Chestnuts fattened him and the grapes made him sweet. Speaking with respect, he was a pig for a pope."
"He will do for a Scotch doctor then," answered Dalrymple. "Tell me, what does this beautiful nun do all day long?"
"What does she do? What can a nun do? She eats cabbage and prays like the others. But she has charge of all the convent linen, so I see her when I go with my mother. That is because the Princes of Gerano first gave the linen to the convent after it was all stolen by the Turks in 1798. So, as they gave it, their abbesses take care of it."