"Padrone," said Giacomo, who, whatever his astonishment at the connubial position he had disturbed, was much too discreet to betray it—"Padrone, I see the young Englishman riding towards the house, and I hope, when he arrives, you will not forget the alarming information I gave you this morning."
"Ah—ah!" said Riccabocca, his face falling.
"If the Signorina were but married!"
"My very thought—my constant thought!" exclaimed Riccabocca. "And you really believe the young Englishman loves her?"
"Why else should he come, Excellency?" asked Giacomo, with great naiveté.
"Very true; why, indeed?" said Riccabocca. "Jemima, I cannot endure the terrors I suffer on that poor child's account. I will open myself frankly to Randal Leslie. And now, too, that which might have been a serious consideration, in case I return to Italy, will no longer stand in our way, Jemima."
Jemima smiled faintly, and whispered something to Riccabocca, to which he replied—
"Nonsense, anima mia. I know it will be—have not a doubt of it. I tell you it is as nine to four, according to the nicest calculations. I will speak at once to Randal. He is too young—too timid to speak himself."
"Certainly," interposed Giacomo; "how could he dare to speak, let him love ever so well?"
Jemima shook her head.