stories by english authors in italy(旅意英国作家的故事)-第13节
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〃Of whom？〃 said Miss Hamelyn； rather anxiously。
〃Of him！〃 cried Madame Petrucci； pointing to the engraving opposite。
〃He lives； of course； in the capital； but he rents the villa behind our house；…
…the Medici Villa；and when he is tired of Rome he runs down here for a
week or so； and so your Gonerilla may have the benefit of /his/ society！〃
〃Very nice； I'm sure；〃 said Miss Hamelyn； greatly relieved； for she
knew that Signor Graziano must be fifty。
〃We have known him；〃 went on the old lady； 〃very nearly thirty years。
He used to largely frequent the salon of our dear； our cherished Madame
Lilli。〃
The tears came into the old lady's eyes。 No doubt those days seemed
near and dear to her； she did not see the dust on those faded triumphs。
〃That's all stale news！〃 cried Miss Prunty； jumping up。 〃And Gon'ril
（since I'll have to call her so） must be tired of waiting in the garden。〃
They walked out on to the terrace。 The girl was not there； but by the
gate into the olive…yard； where there was a lean…to shed for tools； they
found her sitting on a cask； whittling a piece of wood and talking to a
curly…headed little contadino。
Hearing steps； Goneril turned round。 〃He was asleep；〃 she said。
〃Fancy； in such beautiful weather！〃
Then； remembering that two of the ladies were still strangers； she
made an old…fashioned little courtesy。
〃I hope you won't find me a trouble； ladies；〃 she said。
〃She is charming！〃 said Madame Petrucci； throwing up her hands。
Goneril blushed； her hat had slipped back and showed her short brown
curls of hair； strong regular features； and flexile scarlet mouth laughing
upward like a faun's。 She had sweet dark eyes； a little too small and
narrow。
〃I mean to be very happy；〃 she exclaimed。
〃Always mean that； my dear；〃 said Miss Prunty。
〃And now； since Gonerilla is no longer a stranger；〃 added Madame
Petrucci； 〃we will leave her to the rustic society of Angiolino while we
show Miss Hamelyn our orangery。〃
〃And conclude our business！〃 said Bridget Prunty。
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CHAPTER II
THE SIGNORINO
One day； when Goneril； much browner and rosier for a week among
the mountains； came in to lunch at noon； she found no signs of that usually
regular repast。 The little maid was on her knees polishing the floor； Miss
Prunty was scolding； dusting； ordering dinner； arranging vases； all at once；
strangest of all； Madame Petrucci had taken the oil…cloth cover from her
grand piano； and； seated before it； was practising her sweet and faded
notes； unheedful of the surrounding din and business。
〃What's the matter？〃 cried Goneril。
〃We expect the signorino；〃 said Miss Prunty。
〃And is he going to stay here？〃
〃Don't be a fool！〃 snapped that lady； and then she added； 〃Go into the
kitchen and get some of the pasty and some bread and cheesethere's a
good girl。〃
〃All right！〃 said Goneril。
Madame Petrucci stopped her vocalising。 〃You shall have all the better
a dinner to compensate you； my Gonerilla！〃 She smiled sweetly； and then
again became Zerlina。
Goneril cut her lunch； and took it out of doors to share with her
companion； Angiolino。 He was harvesting the first corn under the olives；
but at noon it was too hot to work。 Sitting still there was； however； a cool
breeze that gently stirred the sharp…edged olive… leaves。
Angiolino lay down at full length and munched his bread and cheese
in perfect happiness。 Goneril kept shifting about to get herself into the
narrow shadow cast by the split and writhen trunk。
〃How aggravating it is！〃 she cried。 〃In England； where there's no sun；
there's plenty of shade； and here； where the sun is like a mustard… plaster
on one's back； the leaves are all set edgewise on purpose that they sha'n't
cast any shadow！〃
Angiolino made no answer to this intelligent remark。
〃He is going to sleep again！〃 cried Goneril； stopping her lunch in
despair。 〃He is going to sleep； and there are no end of things I want to
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know。 Angiolino！〃
〃/Si/； signora；〃 murmured the boy。
〃Tell me about Signor Graziano。〃
〃He is our padrone； he is never here。〃
〃But he is coming to…day。 Wake up； wake up； Angiolino。 I tell you； he
is on the way！〃
〃Between life and death there are so many combinations；〃 drawled the
boy； with Tuscan incredulity and sententiousness。
〃Ah！〃 cried the girl； with a little shiver of impatience。 〃Is he young？〃
〃/Che！/〃
〃Is he old then？〃
〃/Neppure！/〃
〃What is he like？ He must be /something/。〃
〃He's our padrone；〃 repeated Angiolino； in whose imagination Signor
Graziano could occupy no other place。
〃How stupid you are！〃 exclaimed the young English girl。
〃Maybe；〃 said Angiolino； stolidly。
〃Is he a good padrone？ Do you like him？〃
〃Rather！〃 The boy smiled and raised himself on one elbow； his eyes
twinkled with good…humoured malice。
〃My /babbo/ had much better wine than /quel signore/；〃 he said。
〃But that is wrong！〃 cried Goneril； quite shocked。
〃Who knows？〃
After this conversation flagged。 Goneril tried to imagine what a great
musician could be like： long hair； of course； her imagination did not get
much beyond the hair。 He would of course be much older now than his
portrait。 Then she watched Angiolino cutting the corn； and learned how to
tie the swathes together。 She was occupied in this useful employment
when the noise of wheels made them both stop and look over the wall。
〃Here's the padrone！〃 cried the boy。
〃Oh； he is old！〃 said Goneril。 〃He is old and brown； like a coffee…
bean。〃
〃To be old and good is better than youth with malice；〃 suggested
Angiolino； by way of consolation。
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〃I suppose so；〃 acquiesced Goneril。
Nevertheless she went in to dinner a little disappointed。
The signorino was not in the house； he had gone up to the villa； but he
had sent a message that later in the evening he intended to pay his respects
to his old friends。 Madame Petrucci was beautifully dressed in soft black
silk； old lace； and a white Indian shawl。 Miss Prunty had on her starchiest
collar and most formal tie。 Goneril saw it was necessary that she； likewise
should deck herself in her best。 She was much too young and
impressionable not to be influenced by the flutter of excitement and
interest which filled the whole of the little cottage。 Goneril； too； was
excited and anxious； although Signor Graziano had seemed so old and like
a coffee…bean。 She made no progress in the piece of embroidery she was
working as a present for the two old ladies； jumping up and down to look
out of the window。 When； about eight o'clock； the door…bell rang； Goneril
blushed； Madame Petrucci gave a pretty little shriek； Miss Prunty jumped
up and rang for coffee。 A moment afterward the signorino entered。 While
he was greeting her hostesses Goneril cast a rapid glance at him。 He was
tall for an Italian； rather bent and rather gray； fifty at leasttherefore very
old。 He certainly was brown； but his features were fine and good； and he
had a distinguished and benevolent air that somehow made her think of an
abbe； a French abbe of the last century。 She could quite imagine him
saying； 〃/Enfant de St。 Louis； montez au ciel！/〃
Thus far had she got in her meditations when she felt herself addressed
in clear； half…mocking tones：
〃And how； this evening； is Madamigella Ruth？〃
So he had seen her this evening binding his corn。
〃I am quite well； padrone；〃 she said； smiling shyly。
The two old ladies looked on amazed； for of course they were not in
the secret。
〃Signor Graziano； Miss Goneril Hamelyn；〃 said Miss
