"Si," said Assunta, marveling at the patois that the Signorina
spoke, and wondering if it contained Indian words.

The very sight of the rows of utensils on the kitchen walls
deepened the rebellious mood of this descendant of the Puritans.

"Even the pots and pans have lovely shapes," said Daphne
wistfully, for the slender necks, the winning curves, the lines
of shallow bowl and basin bore testimony to the fact that the
meanest thought of this people was a thought of beauty. "I
wonder why the Lord gave to them the curve, to us the angle?"

When the macaroni was finished, Assunta invited the Signorina to
go with her to a little house set by itself on the sloping hill
back of the kitchen.

"E carin', eh?" demanded Assunta, as she opened the
door.

Fragrance met them at the threshold, fragrance of fruit and of
honey. The warm sun poured in through the dirty, cobwebbed
window when Assunta lifted the shade. Ranged on shelves along
the wall stood bottles of yellow oil; partly buried in the ground
were numerous jars of wine, bottles and jars both keeping the
beautiful Etruscan curves. On shallow racks were spread bunches
of yellow and of purple grapes, and golden combs of honey gleamed
from dusky corners.

"Ecco!" said Assunta, pointing to the wine jar from which she had