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Page 23
Hitherto Gino had not interfered with Lilia. She was so
much older than he was, and so much richer, that he regarded
her as a superior being who answered to other laws. He was
not wholly surprised, for strange rumours were always
blowing over the Alps of lands where men and women had the
same amusements and interests, and he had often met that
privileged maniac, the lady tourist, on her solitary walks.
Lilia took solitary walks too, and only that week a tramp
had grabbed at her watch--an episode which is supposed to be
indigenous in Italy, though really less frequent there than
in Bond Street. Now that he knew her better, he was
inevitably losing his awe: no one could live with her and
keep it, especially when she had been so silly as to lose a
gold watch and chain. As he lay thoughtful along the
parapet, he realized for the first time the responsibilities
of monied life. He must save her from dangers, physical and
social, for after all she was a woman. "And I," he
reflected, "though I am young, am at all events a man, and
know what is right."
He found her still in the living-room, combing her hair,
for she had something of the slattern in her nature, and
there was no need to keep up appearances.
"You must not go out alone," he said gently. "It is not
safe. If you want to walk, Perfetta shall accompany you."
Perfetta was a widowed cousin, too humble for social
aspirations, who was living with them as factotum.
"Very well," smiled Lilia, "very well"--as if she were
addressing a solicitous kitten. But for all that she never
took a solitary walk again, with one exception, till the day
of her death.
Days passed, and no one called except poor relatives.
She began to feel dull. Didn't he know the Sindaco or the
bank manager? Even the landlady of the Stella d'Italia
would be better than no one. She, when she went into the
town, was pleasantly received; but people naturally found a
difficulty in getting on with a lady who could not learn
their language. And the tea-party, under Gino's adroit
management, receded ever and ever before her.
He had a good deal of anxiety over her welfare, for she
did not settle down in the house at all. But he was
comforted by a welcome and unexpected visitor. As he was
going one afternoon for the letters--they were delivered at
the door, but it took longer to get them at the office--some
one humorously threw a cloak over his head, and when he
disengaged himself he saw his very dear friend Spiridione
Tesi of the custom-house at Chiasso, whom he had not met for
two years. What joy! what salutations! so that all the
passersby smiled with approval on the amiable scene.
Spiridione's brother was now station-master at Bologna, and
thus he himself could spend his holiday travelling over
Italy at the public expense. Hearing of Gino's marriage, he
had come to see him on his way to Siena, where lived his own
uncle, lately monied too.
"They all do it," he exclaimed, "myself excepted." He
was not quite twenty-three. "But tell me more. She is
English. That is good, very good. An English wife is very
good indeed. And she is rich?"
"Immensely rich."
"Blonde or dark?"
"Blonde."
"Is it possible!"
"It pleases me very much," said Gino simply. "If you
remember, I always desired a blonde." Three or four men had
collected, and were listening.
"We all desire one," said Spiridione. "But you, Gino,
deserve your good fortune, for you are a good son, a brave
man, and a true friend, and from the very first moment I saw
you I wished you well."
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