"Well, Signorina, do you feel better?"
"Yes, yes, Signore, much better; but you have news!--news of Guiseppe."
"The best of news, my poor child. Guiseppe is found, and is now at his lodgings."
The blood rushed into her hitherto pale cheeks, her melancholy dark eyes sparkled with joy, and from a pallid, worn-looking girl she changed into a bright, joyful woman. It was a most wonderful transformation, as if a wan lily had suddenly blossomed under the wand of some fairy into a rich red rose.
"Signor Hugo! Signor Hugo! Ah, the good news! Oh, how happy I am! He is alive, then? he is well! Oh, say he is well, Signor Hugo!"
"Signorina, he is still weak after his adventure, and at present he is in bed."
"Oh, let me go to him! let me go at once! He may die, my poor Guiseppe!"
"No he will not die; but put on your hat and I will take you to him, for you alone, Signorina, can nurse him back to health and strength."
Bianca ran to put on her hat and tell the Maestro the good news, which evidently delighted the old man greatly, judging from the extraordinary chuckling sounds which shortly proceeded from his bedroom. Petronella at the doorway celebrated a noisy triumph on her own account, and at last amid the chucklings of the patriarch and the loud delight of his handmaiden, Bianca took her departure under my wing to visit the newly-found prodigal.
She absolutely danced along the pavement, so exuberant was her delight at the good news, and I thought how easily I could damp this joy by telling her the true story of Guiseppe's disappearance. It was a cruel thought, and I regretted it the moment after it flashed across my mind; for it would have been the wanton act of a boy crushing a butterfly to have destroyed the happy ignorance of this merry child, who, tripping gaily along by my side, put me in mind of the smiling Hebe of the Greeks, that charming incarnation of joyous maidenhood.