Her mother tried to soothe her with tales of romance and love, of all the fineries that she would enjoy in the Palazzo, but all Lucia could do was cry until her cheeks twitched and her forehead ached. It was not as bad a wound as she had at first thought, and the blood was only oozing now. Here they were regaled with another plentiful meal by the hospitable carpenter, who personally superintended the repast. ’ His brows rose. A medley of motives warred in her, and it was certainly not one of the least of these that she knew herself to be passionately in love with Capes; at moments she had a giddy intimation that he was beginning to feel keenly interested in her. Hear me then, now, before I take one step to establish my origin, or secure my rights.
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