“Bring me the coffee.”
The tears had ceased to flow, but her eyes burned painfully. She passed into her dressing-room and began to bathe them with cold water. She dipped her whole head into the basin, and felt refreshed. When Giulietta entered with the coffee she found her still bathing her head.
“The maid has come from Casa Sanna. The poor gentleman wandered all night; this morning, saving your presence, he spat blood again. The maid says it is a heartrending sight. Madonna mia, how did this dreadful thing happen?”
Caterina raised her cold, severe eyes, and looked at her. Giulietta, who was intimidated, held her peace.
In the kitchen, she announced to the man-servant, the coachman, and the cook that “the Signora was a woman in a thousand. You will see with what courage she will bear her misfortune.”
“What can she do?” quoth the man-servant. “If Signor Sanna were well, she could have gone to stay with him....”
“Sst!” the cook silenced him. “The Signora is not a woman of that kind. I know her well, for I have seen a great deal of her. She wouldn’t do it.”
“I say there is no chance of the master’s returning,” added the cook later. “My! that Donna Lucia is a clever woman.”
Caterina busied herself in her room, putting away the few things that were lying about, such as her bonnet and shawl; opening and shutting the wardrobes, reviewing the linen shelves, counting their contents, as if she thought of cataloguing them. She stopped to think every now and then, as if she were verifying the numbers. This long and minute examination took some time. All her husband’s things were there, and in one corner stood his gun and cartridge-box. The room was in order. She passed into the morning-room, where on the previous evening she had read that letter. The drawers of her husband’s bureau were open, and the key was in one of them; she inspected them, paper on paper, letter on letter. They were business papers, contracts, donations, leases, bills, letters from friends, letters that she, Caterina, had written to him during his absence: all the Exhibition documents were there, reports and communications. She patiently turned all these pages, and read them all, holding the drawer on her knee, leaning her elbow against the bureau, with her forehead resting on her hand. She was conscious of feeling stunned, of a void in her head and a buzzing in her ears. But that passed, and she soon recovered the lucidity of her mind. When she had finished reading, she tied up all the letters with string, made separate packets of the business papers, and wrote the date and name on each in her round, legible hand. It did not tremble while she wrote, and when she had finished her arduous task she wiped the pen on the pen-wiper and shut down the cover of the inkstand. At the bottom of the big drawer she found another bundle, containing ten pages of stamped paper, forming her marriage contract. She read them all, but replaced them without writing on them. She closed the drawers, and added the key to the bunch that she kept in her pocket.
“It is midday,” said Giulietta. “Will you breakfast, or will you wear yourself to rags?”