"Let the wench depart. So that she goes we may count
ourselves fortunate."
"Fortunate, I think, is she," said I. "Fortunate to return to the world
beyond all this--the world of life and love that God made and that St.
Francis praises. I do not think he would have praised Mondolfo, for I
greatly doubt that God had a hand in making it as it is to-day. It is
too...too arid."
0, my mood was finely rebellious that May morning.
"Are you mad, Agostino?" gasped my mother.
"I think that I am growing sane," said I very sadly. She flashed me one of
her rare glances, and I saw her lips tighten.
"We must talk," she said. "That girl..." And then she checked. "Come
with me," she bade me.
But in that moment I remembered something, and I turned aside to look for
my friend Rinolfo. He was moving stealthily away, following the road
Luisina had taken. The conviction that he went to plague and jeer at her,
to exult over her expulsion from Mondolfo, kindled my anger all anew.
"Stay! You there! Rinolfo!" I called.
He halted in his strides, and looked over his shoulder, impudently.
I had never yet been paid by any the deference that was my due. Indeed, I
think that among the grooms and serving-men at Mondolfo I must have been
held in a certain measure of contempt, as one who would never come to more
manhood than that of the cassock.
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