The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1886-02-13
Select STORY.
MEA CULPA

From Belgrdria.
l had been five years in India; my health
was steadily declining, and do what could
to conceal the state of affairs, the doctor
one fine day peremptorily ordered me home.
My husband was to get leave the following
year, and 1 had so hoped to hold out till
then; but fate, doctor, and husband were
against me, and early in October | started
from Bombay. My mother met me at
Brindisi, and was full of the fine scenery
and still finer climate of the Italian lakes,
among which she had spent several winters
and springs. 1 was quite ready to go there
with her, but wanted to learn something
of Italians and their ways, and entreated
her to find some place where we should
not be completely surrounded by our own
country people.
eff that is all, she said thoughtfully,
"I have the address of an Italian family
living in a very quiet village not far from
the Lago Maggiore. The father was FORM
erly a rather successful doctor at Milan,
and is very interesting old fellow, they
say. He lost good deal of money in some
bank failure, and asked friend of mine at
Como to try and get him some boarders-
1nglese,' of course l hear the villa is
charmingly situated by tiny lake, and in
one of the valleys that run up from Lago
Maggiore.'
'Let us 90 there, by all means" | said,
with as much animation as the languor of
five years in Bengal had left me.
at will be fearfully dull, !" remarked my
mother rather mournfully; but as you are
ordered complete repose, my dear, that may
be an advantage, and l am certain the
bracing air of that region will do you far
more good than that of the Riviera. So
the matter was settled. My mother wrote
at once to Signorina Modesto Cattaneo, who
kept house for her brother, the doctor, and
in few days we were installed at the Villa
Magnolia. OF course the rooms had stone
floors and were carpetless, and with that
strange want of the sense of beauty in their
household arrangements. | have noticed
among Italians, all in the house was sever
ely useful-no flowers, no bits of color
cunningly disposed for effect-in short,
nothing artistic; but happily all was scrup-
ulously clean and tidy, andthe rooms were
large, lofty, and airy; many had balconies,
and from every window our eyes could feast
on the most glorious views. The family
consisted of Dr. Cattaneo, a man of about
fifty, with a noble antique Roman face,
acquiline nose, jet-black eyes, and iron-gray
hair and moustaches. He ought to have
been a very determined sort of person,
but I do not think he was. With a good
deal of intelligence and talent, he possessed
a very tender heart, childike simplicity
of character, and occasional fits Of dreami-
ness, when if one addressed him suddenly
he would start, and a moment would elapse
before his soul came back from the distant
spheres where it had apparently been roam
ing. His mother-known as Signora Ter
esa, for surnames are usually ignored in this
part of the world-was most beautiful
old lady, with gentle, aaint-like face that
seemed carved in ivory. She rarely spoke,
but when she did it was always to the point.
1t did me good to look at her, and really
believe that sitting so often opposite her
calm, sweet face soothed and strengthened
my nerves as much as the perpetual sun
shine and pure tonic air of L. Signorina
Modesto was bright, clever, active little
woman, pale and thin, with an enormous
pair of black eyes.
The doctor had three daug ghters, Pia,
aged twenty-one; Innocentina, just eigh-
teen, and Marietta, fourteen. We did not
make the acquaintance of this young lady,
as she lived with her maternal grandmoth-
er at Milan, where she went to school.
We soon learned that 'Centina was con-
sidered the beauty of the family; Marietta
was the genius, and Pia, | fear, was not
appreciated as she deserved; and if they
had not all been too good and amiable for
harshness, might have been made Gin
derella of. In point of fact, she was to oul
mind superior in everything to her sister
but was SO modest and unselfish that she
really seemed to enjoy effacing herself on
every possible occasion for the others. She
was Signora Teresa's staff and stay, but the
dear old "Monna" laid no heavy burdens
on the willing shoulders. She was hel
fathers right hand, and l am sorry to say
he made rather unmerciful use Of it; but
she could see no fault in him, being one oi
those women who are sure to be some mans
willing slave to her life's end, and she
never dreamed that he was decidedly sci
fish on occasion, and thought far more o.
his own whims and fads than of her health
and pleasure 1 grew to like the doctor
extremely, but never could forgive the
calm and unconscious way in which he
daily accepted all Pia's little sacrifices.
Signorina Modesto, as | have said, was
supposed to keep house, and she certainly
was to be seen here, there, and everywhere
with majestic countenance and portentous
keys; and not even the parmesan was graf
ed for the ''minestra" until she gave the
word of command. But | saw Pia con
stantly in the linen-room, ironing or mend
ing the great piles of coarse, sweet linen
or in the kitchen, concocting some dainty
dish, Milanese fashion, to delight her faith
er's soul withal, or when her aunt unlocked
the cellar-door and stood looking down into
the darkness below, it was Pia who disap
peared into those awful shades with liant
ern and basket to fetch up the days supply
of wine.
This wine was all the produce Of theil
own vineyards, and the doctor was consid
ed very successful as wine-producer. HI
made three different kinds, the ordinary
wine of the country, with an inferior quail
ity for general use, and another kind diff
feranf to anvthin0 7 have eyer seen III