“You must go back and feed your goats and mules, and do just as you have always done before, and say no word to any one about me.”
The corners of her mouth fell a little.
“And then, perhaps, I shall come and take care of you again when you want me, as I did before. But you must do just what I tell you, else you will not see me again.”
“Yes, I will, I will,” she said, in a loud whisper, frightened at that blank prospect.
They were silent a little while; and then Tessa, looking at her hand, said—
“The Madre wears a betrothal ring. She went to church and had it put on, and then after that, another day, she was married. And so did the cousin Nannina. But then she married Gollo,” added the poor little thing, entangled in the difficult comparison between her own case and others within her experience.
“But you must not wear a betrothal ring, my Tessa, because no one must know you are married,” said Tito, feeling some insistence necessary. “And the buona fortuna that I gave you did just as well for betrothal. Some people are betrothed with rings and some are not.”
“Yes, it is true, they would see the ring,” said Tessa, trying to convince herself that a thing she would like very much was really not good for her.
They were now near the entrance of the church again, and she remembered her cocoons which were still in Tito’s hand.
“Ah, you must give me the boto,” she said; “and we must go in, and I must take it to the Padre, and I must tell the rest of my beads, because I was too tired before.”