"Oh, how comical you do look, standing there talking about love, with your white hair and your great big basket!" said Beppa, breaking into irrepressible laughter. The cold had not made her hideous, as it makes so many Italians hideous; her face was not empurpled, her fine features were not swollen. She looked handsome. What was even more attractive on such a day, she looked warm. As her merriment ceased, a sudden change came over her. "Sainted Maria! she doubts whether I love him! Love him? Why, you poor old woman, I'd die for him to-morrow. I'd cut myself in pieces for him this minute." Her great black eyes gleamed; the color flamed in her oval cheeks; she gave a rich, angry laugh. It was impossible to doubt her, and Prudence did not doubt. "Well, I'm right down glad, Bepper," she said, in a softened tone--"right down glad, my dear." She was thinking of her own love for the girl's father. "I was coming up," continued Beppa, "because I thought I'd better talk it over with you." "Of course," said Prudence, cordially. "A girl can't get married all alone; nobody ever heard of that." "I sha'n't be much alone, for Giuseppe's family's a very big one; too big, I tell him--ten brothers and sisters. But they're all well off, that's one comfort. Of course I don't want to shame 'em." "Of course not," said Prudence, assenting again. Then, with the awakened memories still stirring in her heart: "It's a pity your father isn't here now," she said, in a moved tone; "he'd have graced a wedding, Bepper, he was so handsome." She seldom spoke of Tonio; the subject was too sacred; but it seemed to her as if she might venture a few words to this his daughter on the eve of her own marriage. "Yes, it's a pity, I suppose," answered Beppa. "Still, he would have been an old man now. And 'tain't likely he would have had a good coat either--that is, not such a one as I should call good." "Yes, he would; I'd have made him one," responded Prudence, with a spark of anger. "This whole basket's full of coats now." "I know you're wonderful clever with your needle," said the girl, glancing carelessly at the basket that weighed down her step-mother's shoulders. "I can't think how you can sew so steadily, year in, year out; I never could." "Well, I've had to get stronger spectacles," Prudence confessed. "And they wouldn't take my old ones in exchange, neither, though they were perfectly good." "They're robbers, all of them, at that shop," commented Beppa, agreeingly. "Now, about your clothes, Bepper--when are you going to begin? I suppose you'll come home for a while, so as to have time to do 'em; I can help you some, and Nounce too; Nounce can sew a little." "No, I don't think I'll come home; 'twouldn't pay me. About the clothes--I'm going to buy 'em." "They won't be half so good," Prudence began. Then she stopped. "I'm very glad you've got the money laid up, my dear," she said, commendingly.