"You're overwhelming me, you two," said Regina; "you're a pair of flatterers, that's what you are!" "She's grown fatter, hasn't she," said Antonio to Gabrie. "Do you remember how thin she was? By Jove, she was a fright!" "Thank you, my dear!" said Regina. "No, she wasn't a fright. She was thin, certainly. But when she came home last year she was thin then. And quite _green_, she was! And always in a bad humour! She was afraid you had run away from her, Signor Antonio, and was always watching for the postman----" "Who told you that?" asked Regina, astonished. "I saw it. But the moment Signor Antonio arrived----" "Upon my word, if you fail as a novelist it won't be for want of observation, my dear!" They were standing all together at a short distance from their hostess. The latter suddenly turned and came towards them. In her small be-gemmed hands she held a plate and a silver fork. She was eating slowly, munching at a slice of tart, and she had smeared her mouth with chocolate. Never had she looked more hideous. "Is your friend from Viadana?" she asked Antonio, pointing to Gabrie with her fork. "From the country--from my home!" cried Regina, looking affectionately at the girl. It seemed to her that Gabrie's little face wore a look of ineffable disgust. * * * * * The days and the months rolled on. A morning came when Regina woke to see a thread of gold coming through the closed shutters and falling on the blue wall across the corner of her room. It was the sun beating on the window. Spring had come, and Regina felt a profound gladness. Time had run on, and she had not noticed it, so happy she thought herself. Sometimes she felt quite afraid of her happiness, and even this morning, after her quick joy at sight of the sunshine, she looked at the sleeping Antonio and thought-- "Suppose he were to die! Any one of us, I, or he, or baby, might die at any moment! This great light which shines in my soul might be put out in one instant." She raised herself on her elbow and surveyed her husband. His fine head, motionless on the pillow, illuminated by the gold ray from the window, had the severe beauty of a statue. Blue veins showed on his closed eyelids. His whole aspect was of suavity and gentleness. Last night he had come home late, later than usual, even though most nights he was late. Regina was not jealous. He worked hard all day. Every hour was absorbed by feverish activity. Only in the evening could he amuse himself, walk, do what he liked. His wife knew this and asked for no account of these hours. Besides, did he not always tell her where he had been? There were days in which husband and wife hardly saw each other, except in the morning when they first woke; and sometimes, if he woke late, Antonio had to jump out of bed, dress in a hurry, bolt his breakfast, and run to the office.