What was Guiseppe to do? They were still among a crowd of people who had poured soldi and soldi, even francs, into her tambourine. Should he attempt to discipline her and have a scene on this public, crowded thoroughfare? He looked savagely at Pappina seated in the carriage, her proud little head resting against the cushions like that of a princess. He could not doubt that she intended to ride. Should he humor her? He stood a moment in deep study. The people were smiling admiringly at the dainty child. Guiseppe knew their sympathy was with Pappina. He could not hide his anger.
"Confound her!" he muttered. "Get in, Marta," he commanded with an oath.
There is no knowing what, in his rage, Guiseppe would not have said and done had not Pappina fallen asleep almost immediately. It was poor Marta who was destined to feel the fury of his rage.
"She always takes advantage of me when I can't help myself," he began. "The upstart! Am I, Guiseppe, to give in to her, an imp raised in poverty and dirt?" He beat his hand on his breast. "Marta, I'll show her. I'll teach her who is master. I'll curb her temper. I'll conquer her or I'll die. Bah! Do you hear me? I say I'll conquer her or I'll die."
Marta certainly heard him and believed him as well. He had made her life a hard one, insisting upon having his own selfish way always. She was expected to know no wish that differed from his. No wonder he felt galled to find himself defied, forced to give in to a child who in years was scarcely more than a baby.
Marta was in constant fear that the little girl might awaken and that Guiseppe would be eager to fulfill his threat to show Pappina who was master. But Pappina slept on, even after the carriage had stopped in front of their home.
Marta took the tired little girl quickly and tenderly in her arms and put her to bed, her heart overflowing with a great motherly love as though Pappina were her very own. For a long time she sat by the child's side, to guard her from Guiseppe's anger. She could hear him in the adjoining room, pacing the floor like a lion in his cage. Then there was silence.
What now! Marta held her breath as she tiptoed to the door and peered through a crack to see what Guiseppe was doing. He had his money bag in his hand.
"Full! Full!" he exclaimed softly. He smiled grimly as he counted the coins. "Diavolo! she brings the money! Ten—twenty.—She's a gold mine, the vixen!—Thirty—forty.—I can afford to give in a little.—Fifty.—What spirit she has!—Sixty.—I could kill her at times, but—seventy–five—I'll be hanged if I don't like her!—Eighty.—Yes, I like her—temper and all."