He threw his tools aside and ran to the door, which was now unbolted. Notwithstanding this and his having received an invitation, he knocked before he opened it.
"Ma--entrate! How smart you are, Signor Antonio!"
Antonio dropped his dark eye-lashes and glanced at his slender figure down to the very tips of his varnished boots--but only for a moment. The next the passionate sullen eyes were fixed upon the beautiful girl, who, wearing her ordinary dark morning dress with a long apron, stood before him with her modelling tool in her hand.
"You have no need to think of dress; you are always beautiful!"
He said it in German. He was proud of his German since she had praised his accent during the Italian lessons he gave her and told him that every word in his mouth sounded new, new and delightful like meeting a friend in a foreign land.
"I feel anything but beautiful this morning," answered Ferdinanda, "but I want your help. My model has failed me; I wanted to work at the eyes to-day. You have finer eyes than your countrywoman, Antonio; do stand there just for a few minutes!"
A smile of gratified pride stole over the youth's handsome face. He stood before Ferdinanda in the precise attitude which she had given to her statue.
"Bravo!" said she: "it is difficult to say whether you are a better actor or sculptor."
"Un povero abbozzatore!" he murmured.
"You are no workman," said Ferdinanda; "but as you well know, an artist."