Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1891-11-14
CHAPTER vi,

When they found themselves out in the street
y little later it was as if involuntarily they
turned toward the step which led to the Church
of Madonna della Costa. Just below the in
clined paved steps leading to it was the terrace
with the low wall against which one could lean
and look down the almost PERCEPTIONS hillside
on to the olive vineyards and the shallow
stream. By turning one gaze to the right one
sweep across olives and villas and palms to the
curve OF the shore from which road the hill
where the white little Church of Madonna della
Guardia kept watch over the blue sea and those
who braved its dangers, if there could ever lurk
dangers in the softly ripping lake-like calm.
1t was lovely point to look eut from, this
low wall high up in the ''old city," which was
SO tiny that it was more like u town, though it
was always called the 'Citta Vecchia."
AS the friends drew near this point they saw
the figure OF peasant woman leaning with
arms folded on the grassy stone ledge before
her. She was not only poorly, but carclessly
dressed. One imagined that she had fell. that
it was OF no consequence to herself or to others
if her bodice was ill-fastened, her crinkly,
black hair unkempt and her head handkerchief
lifted and awry.
She was staring straight before her at the hills
and the sea, and seemingly scarcely noticing
the words of another woman who stood by her
with bundle of fagols Oh her head and her
hand on her hip.
But the two forestieri heard what this woman
was saying, in well-meaning but common
place tone.
''Patienza. Lisa, patienzai' she said. "Of
what good is all this? Sorrow is natural enough
when ones child dies, if one has not so many
that one can be spared, because one feels it will
be better cared for But to go mad with grief
and weep ones eyes away when one has no
one left to be eyes and hands for one. nothing
but harm can come OF it. And it cannot DO
cenied that he could never have been happy
again-Pasquale. He had lost his voice for
good and could not turn to anything else. be-
cause ne was always mourning and wretched
1t is not rs il he had kept his health and his
voice as well, and had been a healthy, handsome
fellow like Giovanni whom they say some rich
foreStieri have taken fancy to and are going
to make into grand singer"
Lisa turned her face upon the speaker Her
tear-infiamed eyes seemed suddenly to glare q
little like panthers.
"Hush?" she said. II know about that; you
may be sure enough some one told me. You
may be sure that now is the time. now that he
is dead-dead--like .hat-that shall hear of
some other-some other
She choked and dropped her head in her
hands. Her thin breast heaved and struggled as
II 1t was lmprisoning some fierce swelling
thing which strangled to get out.
Co., she said. Il wish You no i'll, but carry
your fsgots home. You mean well, but I want
to stand here alone"
The peasant woman stared at her a second
with questioning face, and then she shrugged
her shoulders and went sway, turning into the
sloping street near by.
The lady in black was breathing quickly.
ut II tbs mother of the Other.'" she whis-
pered to her friend. II can understand; she is
like me, only that my boy was not tired of his
iiie Perhaps two women like US will know
what TO say to each other"
The girls gray eyes had tears in them,
"fes. said shelves. dear, but she will not
know that can understand. too; she will only
think that am a signorina and one of the for
estieri. and she won't want me. will slip away"
the lady in black drew quietly near TO the peas
ant Her consoler having left her. the woman
had covered her worn face-almost clutched it,
with her hands, and the straining, swelling,
wild thing heaving her breast had broken il
bounds and was shaking her with tearing sobs.
It was an awful thing. Only mothers cob