There was a sound of oars that came nearer. She listened, but would not look. “What can it mean?” she thought. “There are double oars; and he has but one gondolier.”
Gian, the man-servant, entered and announced the Marchesa Loredan and Don Claudio; and at the same instant Elena slipped hastily into the room, that her charge might not be found alone.
Tacita’s heart sank heavily. She greeted her visitors with an equal coldness, though Don Claudio’s face implored her pardon.
“Your books are all ready, Don Claudio,” she said, when she could speak. “Professor Mora said that you were to have those that are marked with a white star. Gian will take them down. Here is the list.”
She gave him the paper, and he received it, blushing with shame. He could not utter a word. But the Marchesa’s voluble condolences and compliments covered all defects in the conversation.
She was glad that the signorina was going to travel for a time. Nothing distracted one from sorrow like traveling. Was there anything that the Marchesa could do for her? She would send her maid to the railway station the next morning with a basket of luncheon for the travelers. If she could help them in any other way, the signorina might speak freely.
Tacita recollected the reply of Diogenes when Alexander asked: “Is there anything that I can do for you?”
“Only stand a little out of my sunshine,” said Diogenes.
The Marchesa was most grateful for Professor Mora’s gift to her son; and with the signorina’s approval, Don Claudio proposed to erect a memorial tablet in St. Michael’s to his honored preceptor.
The proposal pleased and touched the desolate girl, and she tearfully thanked Don Claudio.