She paused abruptly, in evident uncertainty, and dropped her head on her breast. When she raised it, she was slightly pale and tears were glistening in her eyes. I was about to ask her the cause of them, but she did not give me time.
"Lila," she said in an imperative tone, "go!"
The girl obeyed regretfully, and stopped far enough away to be out of hearing, but not so far that she could not see us. Her mistress waited until she had gone, before breaking the silence. Then she took my hand with a most serious air, and began:
"I am going to tell you something which I have never told before to a living soul, and which I had fully determined never to tell. It relates to my mother, the object of all my veneration and all my love. Judge what it must cost me to stir a memory which might tarnish her purity and her fair fame in the sight of other eyes than mine. But I know that you are kind-hearted, and that I can speak to you as I would speak to God, without any fear that you will imagine evil."
She paused a moment to collect her ideas, then continued:
"I remember that I was very proud of my noble blood in my childhood. It was, I fancy, the obsequious fawning of our servants that planted that sentiment in my mind so early in life, and led me to despise everybody who was not noble like myself. Among my mother's servants there was one who did not resemble the others, and who had been able to retain, in his humble station, the dignity that befits a man. So that he seemed to me an insolent wretch, and my feeling for him was little short of hatred. Still I was afraid of him, especially after a certain day when I saw him watching me with a very grave expression, as I was running my loveliest dolls through the heart with a long black pin.
"One night, I was awakened in my mother's bedroom, where my little bed always stood, by the sound of a man's voice. That voice was speaking to my mother with a gravity that was almost harsh, and she replied in a grief-stricken, timid, almost imploring tone. In my astonishment I thought at first that it was mamma's confessor; and as he seemed to be scolding her according to his custom, I listened with all my ears, without making a sound or letting them suspect that I wasn't asleep. They had no suspicion of me. They talked without restraint. But such an extraordinary conversation! My mother said: 'If you loved me, you would marry me,' and the man refused to marry her! Then mamma wept and so did the man; and I heard—ah! Lelio, I must be very fond of you to tell you this—I heard the sound of kisses. It seemed to me as if I knew the man's voice; but I could not believe the testimony of my ears. I longed to look; but I didn't dare to move, because I felt that I was doing a shameful thing in listening, and as I had even then some elevated sentiments, I tried not to hear. But I heard in spite of my efforts. At last the man said to my mother: 'Addio, I leave you forever; do not refuse me a lock of your lovely hair.'—And my mother replied: 'Cut it yourself.'
"The care which my mother took of my curls had accustomed me to look upon a woman's hair as something very valuable; and when I heard her give him part of hers, I had a thrill of jealousy and grief, as if she had parted with property which she ought not to sacrifice to anybody but myself. I began to weep silently; but, as I had heard steps approaching my bed, I hastily wiped my eyes and pretended to be asleep. Then some one put aside my curtains, and I saw a man all dressed in red, whom I did not recognize at first because I had never seen him in that costume. I was afraid of him; but he spoke to me, and I recognized him at once; it was—Lelio, you will forget this story, won't you?"
"It was—signora?" I cried, convulsively pressing her hand.
"It was Nello, our gondolier—Why, Lelio, what's the matter with you? You are shivering, your hand trembles. O heaven! you blame my mother!"