“I am afraid she has a little temper,” said Mrs. Bishop, as their hostess went upstairs.
“A temper I like!” exclaimed a gentleman who had before kept silent, looking up from his book. “But do you still think of carrying out your plan, Mrs. Bishop?”
“If possible, certainly,” was the reply, while Betty, shaking her head, walked out into the garden. There, under the stars, she stood looking down upon the tent in the field. There was no wind, and the heavens were fair, so the canvas had not been furled.
“I should like it myself,” she murmured. “What a fascinating life to live! Camping out the year round in Italy, with no troublesome dressing four times a day, no tiresome table-d’hôte dinners at night. But after all I should not like to be that girl,—Arduina, they call her. Of course, Aunty is right about the rope dancing and other ‘circusing’ on Sunday, only she need not be quite so fussy over what we certainly cannot help. Poor Natale! how disturbed he did look when Madame Cioche asked him about going to school!”
CHAPTER VI
SEPARATION
Natale lay flat on the grass, his face hidden on his arms, and his feet rebelliously kicking the ground. The added week granted by the mayor had passed, and the circus-wagon was about to move on.
“You are only to try it, child, and if it will not do, you can come back to us. One year is not a hundred.”
No reply from Natale.
“You ought to think, sometimes, of how many mouths your stepfather has to fill,” another voice began. “Five children, and not one his own.”
“Why did he marry us then?” fiercely muttered Natale, but without lifting his head, so perhaps nobody heard.