out the holy ones to bring her to the fold."

The woman's face was alight with reverence and pride, and Daphne
turned back to her flowers, shamed by these peasant folk for
their belief in the immanence of the divine.

Half an hour later Assunta reappeared, clad in Sunday garments,
wearing her best coral earrings and her little black silk
shoulder shawl covered with gay embroidered flowers. She held
out a letter to the girl.

"I go to take the wreaths to Our Lady," she announced, "and to
confess and pray. The Signorina has made them pretty, if they
are but common things."

Daphne was reading her letter; even the peasant woman could see
that it bore glad tidings, for the light that broke in the girl's
face was like the coming of dawn over the hills.

"Wait, Assunta," she said quietly, when she had finished, and she
disappeared among the trees. In a minute she came back with
three crimson roses, single, and yellow at the heart.

"Will you take them with your wreaths for me to the Madonna?" she
said, putting them into Assunta's hand. "I am more thankful than
either one of you."


CHAPTER XVI