And I escorted her back to Checchina.
"This excellent girl," I explained, "wishes to enter the services of a lady in Florence whom I know very well, and she has come to me for a letter of recommendation. Will you allow her to stay with you while I go and write it?"
"Yes, yes, to be sure!" replied Checchina, motioning her to sit down, and smiling at her with an amiable and patronizing air. This sweetness and simplicity of manner toward persons of her former station in life were among the Chioggian's excellent qualities. While she mimicked the affectations of the great lady, she retained the brusque and ingenuous kindliness of the fisherman's child. Her manners, though often ridiculous, were always affable; and if she did enjoy lying in state under a satin coverlet trimmed with lace, for the benefit of that poor village girl, she found none the less, in her heart and on her lips, affectionate words to encourage her in her humility.
The signora's letter was in these words:
"Three days without coming again! Either you have little wit, or you have little desire to see me again. Is it for me to find a way of continuing our friendly relations? If you have not tried to find one, you are a fool; if you have tried and failed, you are what you accuse me of being. To prove that I am neither haughty nor stupid, I write to make an appointment with you. To-morrow, Sunday, morning I shall be at eight o'clock mass, at Santa Maria del Sasso, Florence. My aunt is ill; only Lila, my foster sister, will accompany me. If the footman or coachman notice you or question you, give them money; they are rascals. Addio, until to-morrow."
To reply, to promise, to swear, to express my thanks, and to hand to Lila the most bombastic of love-letters, was an affair of a few moments only. But when I attempted to slip a gold piece into the messenger's hand, I was checked by a glance instinct with melancholy dignity. From pure devotion to her mistress she had yielded to her caprice; but it was evident that her conscience reproached her for that weakness, and that to offer to pay her for it would have been to punish and mortify her cruelly. At that moment I reproached myself bitterly for the kiss I had ventured to steal from her, in order to pique her mistress, and I tried to atone for my fault by escorting her to the end of the garden with as much respect and courtesy as I could have shown to any great lady.
I was very nervous all the rest of the day. Checchina noticed my preoccupation.
"Come, Lelio," she said, toward the close of the supper which we ate together on a pretty little terrace shaded by grape-vines and jasmine; "I see that you are worried about something; why not open your heart to me? Did I ever betray a secret? Am I not worthy of your confidence? Have I deserved to have you withdraw it from me?"
"No, my dear Checchina," I replied, "I appreciate your discretion"—and it is certain that she would have kept Brutus's secrets as well as ever Portia did;—"but," I added, "even if all my secrets belong to you, there are others——"
"I know what you are going to say," she exclaimed. "That there are others which don't belong to you alone, and which you have no right to betray; but if I guess them in spite of you, ought you to carry your scruples so far as to deny, all to no purpose, what I know as well as you do? You know, my friend, I understand that pretty girl's call perfectly well; I saw her hand in her pocket, and before she had said good-morning to me, I knew that she had brought a letter. The timid and distressed air of that poor Iris"—Checchina had been very fond of mythological references ever since she had spelled out Tasso's Aminta and Guarini's Adone—"told me plainly enough that there was a genuine romance behind it, a great lady afraid of public opinion, or a young damsel risking her future union with some worthy citizen. One thing is certain, that you have made one of those conquests of which you men are so proud, because they are supposed to be difficult and require a lot of mystery. You see that I have guessed the secret, don't you?"