And good-bye, Margherita! Light and sweetness among shadows, a rainbow in the cloud, a frame of pearl glorifying the dingy painting of dull memory I Margherita, good-bye!
The day of departure drew near. Aunt Tatàna made endless preparations. She provided shirts and socks, fruit, and cakes white as ivory, cheese, a fowl, dozens of salted eggs, wine, honey, raisins, saddle-bags, and baskets filled to the brim.
"But these are stores for a whole army!" said Anania.
"Hush, my son! You will find it all necessary. There you will have no one to care for you, poor child. Oh! what will become of you?"
"Never fear. I'll look after myself."
The miller and his wife had long, secret consultations and Anania guessed their tenor. One evening they went out together and he anxiously awaited their return.
Aunt Tatàna came in alone.
"Anania, where do you intend to go? To Cagliari or to Sassari?"
Till that moment he had expected to cross the sea: now he understood that some one had decided against that plan.
"Signor Carboni, I suppose?" he said, with ill-concealed bitterness and pride; "don't deny it. What's the good of keeping me in the dark? I see through you. Why won't he send me to the continent? I'll pay all his money back to him in the end."