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Gianna was an old woman, half house-servant, half farm-servant, wholly friend; she had lived at the Terra Vergine all her life; big, gaunt, and very strong, she could do the work of a man, although she was over seventy years of age; burnt black by the sun, and with a pile of grey hair like the hank of flax on her distaff, she was feared by the whole district for her penetrating glance and her untiring energy.
Clelia Alba came within and closed the door, and locked and bolted it. The old woman Gianna had come downstairs with a lighted rush candle in her hand; she was scared and afraid. "What is it? What is it, madama?" Clelia Alba dropped down on the chair by the door. "It is it is that the beggar's spawn you would have me shelter is the leman of my son; and he has dishonoured his house and mine."
I and Gianna and the child do what we can, but we are women, and Nerina is young." "No doubt you speak wisely, mother," replied Adone humbly. "But of what use is it to dress and manure a vine, if the accursed phylloxera be in its sap and at its root? What use is it to till these lands if they be doomed to perish from thirst?"
"Gianna will give her her supper, and will let her sleep in the loft. With the morning we will see what we can do for her, and how she can be sped upon her way." Adone kissed her hands. "You are always good," he said simply. "I am weak," answered his mother, "I am weak, Adone; when you wish anything I consent to it against my judgment."
When Gianna was satisfied the stars had changed their courses, said the people, so rare was the event; therefore, that this little wanderer contented her was at once a miracle and a voucher indisputable.
To this apple-tree field there was a high hedge of luxuriant elder and ash, myrtle and field-roses. Behind this hedge old Gianna was waiting for him; the tears were running down her face. She took the skirt of his coat between her hands. "Wait, your reverence, wait! The child is in the cattle stable." Don Silverio looked down on her a few moments without comprehension. Then he remembered.
Gianna went to the well in the court with her bronze pitcher and pail. Clelia Alba cut great slices of bread at the kitchen table; and hooked the cauldron of maize flour to the chain above the fire on the kitchen hearth. He could not wait for their greetings, their questions, the notice which his changed mien would surely attract.
Gianna was distressed; from her chamber above she had heard the words which had passed between Adone's mother and Nernia, and knew the girl was gone. "I would condemn others, but not Adone and the child," she returned. "For sure they do not do right to have secrets from you, but they are not such secrets as you think." "Enough!" said Clelia Alba sternly. "The morning will show who is right.
I sent my grandchild to ask there. Gianna has not seen her, and says the girl would never dare to go near Clelia Alba." "I am grieved," said Don Silverio again. He did not blame the old woman, as who, he thought, blames one who could not tame an eaglet? He went back to the presbytery and broke his fast on a glass of water, some bread, and some cresses from the river. He had sent for Gianna.
Lauretta and Teresina sat on the principal seat, whilst on the other, with her back to the driver, sat their maid, the fat little Gianna, a brown-cheeked Neapolitan. Besides this living freight, the carriage was packed full of boxes, satchels, and baskets of all sizes and shapes, such as invariably accompany ladies when they travel.
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