‘I will taste it to see that all is well,’ she murmured, and drawing back the iron pot, she helped herself to a liberal portion.
The pentola was good; Pepita tasted it yet again, for she had been up early to go to Mass, and had sung herself hungry on the way home. Soon there was no meat left.
‘Ah, what shall I do?’ she sighed, ‘My mother will scold me terribly, and will tell the Padre that I am greedy.’
She was sighing still when her eyes fell on an old leather shoe which had been cast away behind the door. Her face all dimpled with mischief, Pepita soused this under a tap, and threw it into the soup.
‘They will but think that the meat is tough!’ she cried with a burst of laughter; but as the shoe fell into the boiling liquid her mother crossed the threshold.
‘What have you done?’ demanded she, peering into the pot. ’Madonnamia! Was ever an honest woman cursed with such a daughter?’ And breathing out angry hopes that an Ogre would come and take her, she drove Pepita out of the house.
At that moment a rich young merchant was strolling by, and Pepita unwittingly rushed into his arms. A thing such as this had never happened to him before, and since he scarce knew what to do, he clasped her tightly while he considered. By the time he released her, Pepita’s face was pink as apple blossom, and the tears that sparkled on it were for all the world like dewdrops on the petals of a flower. Something stirred in his breast, and he blushed even more than she; for when a man falls suddenly in love he knows not where he stands. Looking from one to the other, the wrath of Pepita’s mother suddenly cooled.
