Part 59

“You dear old woman,” Peter half laughed, half sobbed, “how can you ask me to forgive a mere difference of opinion? You--you dear old thing.”

The Cardinal smiled, and patted Marietta's hand.

“The Signorino is too good,” Marietta sighed.

“Go on, dear,” said the Cardinal.

“I have been guilty of the deadly sin of evil speaking. I have spoken evil of the Signorino,” she went on. “I said--I said to people--that the Signorino was simple--that he was simple and natural. I thought so then. Now I know it is not so. I know it is only that the Signorino is English.”

Once more the Cardinal smiled at Peter.

Again Peter half laughed, half sobbed.

“Marietta! Of course I am simple and natural. At least, I try to be. Come! Look up. Smile. Promise you will not worry about these things any more.”

She looked up, she smiled faintly.

“The Signorino is too good,” she whispered.

After a little interval of silence, “Now, dear,” said the Cardinal, “the last thing of all.”

Marietta gave a groan, turning her head from side to side on her pillow.

“You need not be afraid,” said the Cardinal. “Mr. Marchdale will certainly forgive you.”

“Oh-h-h,” groaned Marietta. She stared at the ceiling for an instant.

The Cardinal patted her hand. “Courage, courage,” he said.

“Oh--Signorino mio,” she groaned again, “this you never can forgive me. It is about the little pig, the porcellino. The Signorino remembers the little pig, which he called Francesco?”

“Yes,” answered Peter.

“The Signorino told me to take the little pig away, to find a home for him. And I told the Signorino that I would take him to my nephew, who is a farmer, towards Fogliamo. The Signorino remembers?”

“Yes,” answered Peter. “Yes, you dear old thing. I remember.”

Marietta drew a deep breath, summoned her utmost fortitude.

“Well, I did not take him to my nephew. The--the Signorino ate him.”

Peter could hardly keep from laughing. He could only utter a kind of half-choked “Oh?”

“Yes,” whispered Marietta. “He was bought with the Signorino's money. I did not like to see the Signorino's money wasted. So I deceived the Signorino. You ate him as a chicken-pasty.”

This time Peter did laugh, I am afraid. Even the Cardinal--well, his smile was perilously near a titter. He took a big pinch of snuff.

“I killed Francesco, and I deceived the Signorino. I am very sorry,” Marietta said.

Peter knelt down at her bedside.

“Marietta! Your conscience is too sensitive. As for killing Francesco--we are all mortal, he could not have lived forever. And as for deceiving the Signorino, you did it for his own good. I remember that chicken-pasty. It was the best chicken-pasty I have ever tasted. You must not worry any more about the little pig.”

Marietta turned her face towards him, and smiled.