“Ah, signorina, you are early indeed to-day,” he began; then glancing at the unloaded mule, he went on, “you want the onions back, no doubt? I was afraid Mother Ceprano——” “I did not come about that,”replied Lucia abruptly, with an odd shy smile. “I came to-day to ask your services as hair-dresser; you cut and dress hair, I know. Will you be so good as to cut off my hair?” “What, signorina!”cried the horrified barber, “cut off your beautiful hair! No, you don’t mean it, I couldn’t have the heart!” “Are you a barber, Don Ernano?” asked Lucia with the gravity and firmness peculiar to her. “Yes, it is on the sign-board, and I cut anybody’s hair when I am asked, but—but—do you want to sell your beautiful plait?” he asked, with quite a sad expression in his kind eyes. “No, I don’t want to sell it, but I want it cut off, and I have come to ask you to do it for me,” answered Lucia firmly and decidedly. “Must I really?” said Don Ernano, feeling a little cast down by the girl’s energetic tone and manner. “Yes—you must—if you will,” was her rather odd answer, and therewith she hurried into the shop. “If you knew how it grieved me!” began the barber again. “Is it a vow, signorina?” “Something of the sort, but it is more than that to me,”was the short answer. “Then you have quite made up your mind?” he ventured to ask once more. “Will you do it or will you not, Don Ernano?” asked Lucia as if she were much offended and would leave the shop. “Well—if it really must be done—please to sit down, signorina,” said the barber, moving reluctantly to the cupboard in which he kept his implements. Just at this moment two men came into the shop, and said with a sly glance at his fair customer, “You’re engaged, Don Ernano?” “At your service in a moment, gentlemen,” he answered; then bending over Lucia and taking her great plait, which was almost as thick as her arm, in his hand, he said in a low tone, “You will have just a little bit left?” “No, cut it off close,”answered Lucia in a whisper. Don Ernano gently put her head in the right position; and Lucia, looking calmly and cheerfully into the little glass before her, could see with what a dismal countenance the light-haired giant went about his task, which was no such easy one, and took some minutes to accomplish. It was done at last, however, and the barber held the severed plait in his hands, his face wearing a very troubled expression. “Good morning, gentlemen,” said Lucia, rising and bowing to the two men; “good morning, Don Ernano!” and before he had recovered from his astonishment, Lucia was out of the shop and trotting away on her mule, leaving him to look after her and shake his head in perplexity, while he still held the beautifully plaited tail of hair in his hands. “A very pretty customer, signor!” said his visitors, who had not heard all that had passed. “A lovely girl,” answered Don Ernano thoughtfully, “but strange, very strange, I can’t make her out.”