At any moment a slender white
figure might start up from a marble bench, or gleam out like a statue
against a background of clipped laurel or box. He began to feel so
strongly conscious of a loved and loving presence, that he was as much
surprised as disappointed when he reached the steps leading up to the
house-terrace without having seen Mary. If he had been willing to
harbour superstitious fancies then, he would have believed that Mary had
sent her spirit to meet him in this mournfully sweet garden; but less
than at any other time would he listen to whispers of superstition.
Vanno pulled the old-fashioned bell of the front door, and heard it ring
janglingly with that peculiar plaintiveness which bells have in empty
houses. It seemed to complain of being roused from sleep, when waking
could give no promise of hope or pleasure.
Twice Vanno rang, and then there came the sound of unlocking and
unbolting. A handsome and very dark young woman of the peasant class
looked out at him questioningly, with eyes of topaz under black brows
that met in a straight line across her forehead. The eyes lit when Vanno
spoke to her in Italian, and she beamed when he inquired for Miss Grant.
"The beautiful Signorina!" she exclaimed. "The gracious Signore is a
relative who has come for her?"
"We are to be married," he answered with the frank simplicity of
Italians in such matters.
"Heaven be praised!" the woman cried. "Will the Signore step into the
house?"
"She is here, then?" Vanno asked, entering the vestibule that opened
into the white coldness of the hall.
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