“But I want it to have a sail,” persisted the child.
“I have no rag for a sail,” said Mattina. “Bebeko must ask his Mamma for some when the boat is ready.”
When both children were dressed, there was a search for the Kyria’s parasol which was nowhere to be found. At first she accused Mattina of having broken it and hidden the pieces, and at last remembered that she had left it at her sister’s house. Then her keys were mislaid, looked for in all sorts of places, and discovered at last under her pillow. Lastly she searched angrily for a twenty-five drachmæ note, which she declared she had folded up and placed under her gloves in the early morning.
“I put it there on purpose to change it when I went out, and buy ‘pastas’[23] for dinner to-day. It was here, I tell you, just under these gloves; or stay, perhaps I pinned it on the pincushion.”
But neither under the gloves nor on the pincushion was the note to be found.
“Well,” said the Kyria at last, “your master must have taken it for something, and have forgotten to tell me. I shall meet him at the square. Come, let us go!”
“Kyria,” and Mattina stood in her way.
“What do you want? It is late.”
“Kyria, my uncle has sent me word that they have not seen me for many days, and that I must go there this afternoon, and also if you make difficulties, and keep me closed up, I am to tell you that he, my uncle, will come and take me away and find another house for me.”
All this was repeated very quickly, and as though Mattina had just learned it by heart.