they had always been green; here was the spot where Aurora had tumbled
off her pony when she was only twelve years old--so long ago! And
here--they looked at each other and then quickly at the sea, for it was
here that Marcello, in a fit of boyish admiration, had once suddenly
kissed her cheek, telling her that she was perfectly beautiful. Even
now, he blushed when he thought of it, and yet he longed to do it again,
and wondered inwardly what would happen if he did.

As for Aurora, though she looked at the sea for a moment, she seemed
quite self-possessed. It is a strange thing that if a boy and a girl are
brought up in just the same way, by women, and without many companions,
the boy should generally be by far the more shy of the two when
childhood is just past.

"You are very fond of your stepfather, are you not?" asked Aurora, so
suddenly that Marcello started a little and hesitated slightly before he
answered.

"Yes," he said, almost directly, "of course I am! Don't you like him,
too?"

"I used to," answered Aurora in a low voice, "but now his eyes frighten
me--sometimes. For instance, though he is a good way behind, I am sure
he is looking at me now, just in that way."

Marcello turned his head instinctively, and saw that Folco had just
dismounted to tighten the girth of the Contessa's saddle. It was exactly
while Aurora was speaking that he had drawn his eyelids together with
such a strange expression--a mere coincidence, no doubt, but one that
would have startled the girl if she could have suddenly seen his face.