“And so,” said the priest, sternly, “you let all Vignola think your wife has a lover, and say nothing?”
“They have to think something; and isn’t it better they should think she has a lover, Reverendo, than a _cappello di signora?_”
“Surely,” assented the priest, quickly; “a lover, at least, they can all understand; and only too many of them--Madonna pardon them!--have had; but a signora’s hat nobody in the village has ever had, and they would never pardon Gioja for having. And they have right; Gioja has no business with a signora’s hat, nor you to waste your time and money, as if you would be _bambini_ all your lives. And for you, a man, to make yourself the servant of your wife,--oh, it is shameful, _vergognoso!_”
“Pardon again, Reverendo, but that, too, you can’t understand. If it is Gioja’s _poesia_ to play the signora,--why, Gioja is _my poesia_. As for its lasting, _altro!_ the future is long; and if we had others to feed all that might be different. She is only a child herself now; but when the good God sends a child to a child, that makes a woman of her; He himself sees to that. When that comes, she will care nothing to play the signora with her stupid Oreste. All this our Signorina knew; for that night, when the child came to me weeping, and saying how wicked she had been, and begging me to forgive her and marry her at once, _at once_--I, Signori, who would have married her any moment for years!--it put me in trouble. I had fear to take her like that, and perhaps have her sorry for it later. But I went to our Signorina with her, and told her all; and she looked at us both and said: ‘Marry her, Oreste; you safely may;’ for the Signorina understood. And so--I married her.”
The eyes of the two young men met suddenly, and exchanged across the gulf of position and race one rapid thrill of comprehension. The priest looked half-timidly at both; but perhaps he, too, comprehended something, for he said meekly,--
“Perhaps not,” replied Oreste, with his frank smile; “but that was not your fault, Reverendo. And now, if the Signore and you will excuse me, that was the bell of the Elevation. If Gioja saw you, she would have no more pleasure; and that would be all the more a pity, because it is our last _festa_ here. We are going to live with the Signore and his Signora. Is n’t it so, Signore?”