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Updated: June 8, 2025
Her laughter died away. But the exciting influence still possessed her; still forced her into the other alternative of saying something she neither knew nor cared what. "I couldn't live such a lonely life as yours," she said to him so loudly and so confidently that even Zo noticed it. "I couldn't live such a life either," he admitted, "but for one thing." "And what is that?"
The doubt whether he might not "tell mamma," decided her on keeping her secret. As the event proved, the one person who informed Ovid of the terrible necessity that existed for his return, was the little sister whom it had been his last kind effort to console when he left England. When Mr. Gallilee entered the room, Zo had just reached the end of her letter.
The minutes passed, and still Doctor Benjulia held him in talk. Now that he was no longer seeking amusement, in his own dreary way, by mystifying Zo, the lines seemed to harden in the doctor's fleshless face. A scrupulously polite man, he was always cold in his politeness. He waited to have his hand shaken, and waited to be spoken to. And yet, on this occasion, he had something to say.
They say that the Cathedral of Milan is second only to St. Peter's at Rome. I cannot understand how it can be second to anything made by human hands. We bid it good-bye, now possibly for all time. How surely, in some future day, when the memory of it shall have lost its vividness, shall we half believe we have seen it in a wonderful dream, but never with waking eyes! "Do you wis zo haut can be?"
"That's kind indeed!" she said. "Nonsense! I shall take the children out, after dinner to-day. Looking over lodgings will be an amusement to me and to them." "Where is Zo? Why haven't you brought her with you?" "She is having her music lesson and I must go back to keep her in order. About the lodging? A sitting-room and bedroom will be enough, I suppose?
She pointed up the hallway to something under the light of the oil lamp which much resembled a fat rag doll. The queer object was shaking with strange contortions in the place where the hall-bell should have hung. "I play him one good trick, ain't it?" she added. "Mit a towel I tie up the bell-knocker zo!" She illustrated with her flour-dusted hands. "Den I wrap him round like one sore foot.
"Maria," she thought, "would know what to do in my place. Horrid Maria!" Fortune, using the affairs of the household as an instrument, befriended Zo. In a minute more her opportunity arrived. The parlour-maid unexpectedly returned. She addressed Mr. Gallilee with the air of mystery in which English servants, in possession of a message, especially delight.
Mool, bent on making himself agreeable to everybody, paid his court to Mr. Gallilee's youngest daughter. "And who do you mean to marry, my little Miss, when you grow up?" the lawyer asked with feeble drollery. Zo looked at him in grave surprise. "That's all settled," she said; "I've got a man waiting for me." "Oh, indeed! And who may he be?" "Donald!"
"How dare you; you are no gentleman!" "No, I am a loaver, Blanca, not von cold Nordthern zhentleman, who haf so leedle heart it can be hush, and zo dthin, poor blood it nefer rush fire at a voman's touch. Blanca, I haf been still for days, vaiting for dthis hour. I loaf you, darling, till all my life is nodthing but von longing I loaf you till I haf no conscience, no religion but my loaf.
"The person who is really responsible for what you have done, will mislead you no more." With those words she entered the library, and closed the door. Maria and Zo, at the sight of their mother, had taken flight. Carmina stood alone in the hall. Mrs. Gallilee had turned her cold. After awhile, she followed the children as far as her own room. There, her resolution failed her.
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