Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-06-20
BY A W0MAN'S HAND.
CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER l. alone remembered. Genna-with her calm, sad face, her quiet. wistful eyes, in which there always seemed longing so great a | sadness so deep.
 One evening Teresina. the coppersmith's daughter, caIne to see her. She was married now, and sober, careful matron with a baby to look after. It was lato, and the evening had fallen dark and chill. Gonna was sitting by tha fire, busy plating the long, pale wisps of straw that lay beside her. She looked up with some surprise at her visitor. | "Is it you, Teresinap" she said. ''You arc welcome. It is long sincs I have se7n you" | Yes; have little enough time for gossip | with neighborhood, of a run down to the market now," said the plump. brown-faced woman, seating herself by the fire. ''Eut I have come up tonight to tell you some news. l Genna. You never go to the town now-you hear nothing, and this may interest you."
 What is it?" She spoke very Guiatly, but her thin cheeks turned paler, her hands trembled little, and the plats of straw grew slightly uneven under the movement of those shaking fingers.
 1 "A man has come from Rome today to see my people on business, and heard what he was saying of tho doings of tho great city yonder. They talk of nothing else save a new artist and his painting, so Dini says. He has painted a woman. She is lovely-every one is full it. They flock Ill crowds to See the picture, and some great noble has bough it for his palace. Gennu. 1 thought suppose it should be Nita, and the pail ter"
 Tine straw fell from Genna's hands. She turned lercely on the woman. "Will you never be silcnt on that subject?" she said. 'I have told you I never wish to hear her name--most of all from lips to whom her shame is jest and by-word."
 "Very we'll" said Teresina, offended at this rough reception of her news. 1T will tell you no more, though the best of the tale re- mains. Perhaps Nita is no shame to you after all perhaps she has done better for herself than we all believed, and is safely married, and a great lady to boot. But then you do not care. Why do trouble to tell you anything of her?"
 May, dear Teresina." cried Genna, implor- ingly. forgive me! was rough and rud" but indeed it hurts me that tongues should speak lightly of Nita-my little Nita whom nursed from her babyhood, and lov d as have never loved another earthly thing. Oh, i my dear, if your news be good, tell me-tel mo. My heart is hungry for word of the child, the child whom for three long weary years have never seen."
 The intense anguish and longing in her voice softened the offended woman. She took her seat once more.
 "Well," she said "of course 1t is for your sake tried to learn as much as l could, and from what hear 1t is the wife Of a rich noble who is making such sensation by her beauty, and the description of her is very like Nita."
 "Well?" snid Gonna hurriodly.
 "Does not that please you?' asked the woman in wonder. Fancy N;ta great lad y with wealth and honor and jewels and fine dresses-Nita who used to run barehc;t;.r.l through the fields and was the wldo-t and sauciest girl on the whole coun'ry-silA!"
 "Nite, who was your friend," interrupted Genna haughtily, "and whom you were the first to speak i'll of.'
 | "It looked so bad" said Tercsina little shamefaced at the grave rebukn. "Eut I should bs heartily glad if this were true Dear me: why, I should like to go to Rome on purpose to sec her. It would be so fine Would she speak 10 US, think you?"
 But Genna wts silent Her thoughts were busy, and full of a great wonder, an intense thankfuln4ss. Nitas faithlessncss was still an uualterable fact, but still, to know that she was safe, happy, honored-that was iii. deed comfort
 Seeing .how quiet and absorbed she was Teresina soon rose and took leave of her Gonna was over a dull com panion-that she knew of od-so she went away to her ow1 home, and relieved her mind by inccssant chatter to her patient husband as she gave him his supper
 Meanwhile Genna sat on by tho tha fire light, her straw plating forgotten, her bus! hands idle for once. "It is no better aftel all" she said at last. "Poor or forsaken. sht would havc como bacl, to me; great, rich honored, she will forget. It is as if she were dead!'
 Yet those few words of Teresina's haunted her the long night through. 'To go tt Rome-to see her-to know if this wer, true?"
 With bent hoad. with tight-clasped fingers with bated breath--so she sat and thought ' thought, while old memories returned, whil, her patient eyes grew dim with the slov tears that filled them. and rolled down he &orn thin cheeks.
 II must go to Rome," she said, and sighet unconsciously as she said it. The idea wa terrible, yet not so terrible as it had scene, once. Her affections were rooted in tn homo of her birth, but yet great longing to gaze once more upon her sisters face tool possession of her. She must tear hersel away, and then
 sl will not stay, I will return," she said half aloud, as though in explanation of he resolve, as her gazo dweit yearningly, ten derly, on every ono of the familiar and inan innate objects around; and yet, even whil she mado the promise a dim forebodin
 crept into her heart-a fear that she coul
 not and dared not analyze. 0 In the morning she gave the place into tn 9 charge Of the peasant who worked in tn 3 farm now, and bade him bring his wife, an, 9 stay in tho house during her absence. Then will at a word to any one else, she set ou ? f. .. ,!2o.
 8 CHAPTER VII.