I have plenty of silver for it upstairs in a silk bag. Our Lady
will think I am not thankful, though the blessed saints know I
have never been so thankful in my life as I am for Bertuccio's
coming home when he did."

"The Madonna will know," said Daphne. "She will like this better
than anything else."

"Are you sure?" asked Assunta dubiously.

"Yes," asserted the girl, laughing. "She told me so!"

The audacity of the remark had an unexpected effect on the
peasant woman. Assunta crossed herself.

"Perhaps she did! Perhaps she did! And do you think she does
not mind my waiting?"

"No," answered Daphne gravely. "She knows that you have been
very busy taking care of me."

Assunta trotted away, apparently content, to consult Giacomo
about dinner. The girl went on weaving with busy fingers, the
shadow of her lashes on her cheek. As she worked her thoughts
wove for her the one picture that they made always for her now:
Apollo standing on the hillside under the ilexes with the single
ray of sunshine touching his face. All the rest of her life kept
fading, leaving the minutes of that afternoon alone distinct.
And it was ten days ago!