The Signora Pandolfi had reached the door, and called out at the top of her voice to the young man.
"Tista! Tista!" She could have been heard in the street.
"Eh, Sora Luisa! We are not in the Piazza Navona," said Gianbattista, appearing at the door of his little room. "What has happened?"
"Go and talk to Lucia," answered the good lady, hurrying off in search of Assunta to tell her the decision concerning the dinner.
Gianbattista entered the sitting-room, and, from the young girl's radiant expression, he guessed that some favourable change had taken place in his position, or in the positions of them both. Lucia began to tell him what had passed, and gave much the same account as she had given to her mother, though some of the intonations were softer, and accompanied by looks which told her happiness. When she had explained the situation she paused for an answer. Gianbattista stood beside her and held her hand, but he looked out of the window, as though uncertain what to say.
"Here is the money," said Lucia. "You will take it, won't you? Then it will be all settled. What is the matter, Tista? Are you not glad?"
"I do not trust him," answered the young man. "It is not like him to change his mind like that, all in a minute. He means some mischief."
"What can he do?"
"I do not know. I feel as if some evil were coming. Patience! Who knows? You are an angel, Lucia, darling."
"Everybody is telling me so to-day," answered the young girl. "Papa, you—"