on one corner of the paper.

Don Paolo looked at him gravely. After the words Marzio had spoken, it
had gone against the priest's nature to communicate to him the
commission for the sacred object. He had hesitated a moment, asking
himself whether it was right that such a man should be allowed to do
such work. Then the urgency of the situation, and his knowledge of his
brother's character, had told him that the diversion might avert some
worse catastrophe, and he had quickly made up his mind. Even now he
asked himself whether he had done right. It was a question of theology,
which it would have taken long to analyse, and Don Paolo had other
matters to think of in the present, so he dismissed it from his mind. He
wanted to be gone, and he only stayed a few minutes to see whether
Marzio's mind would change again. He knew his brother well, and he was
sure that no violence was to be feared from him, except in his speech.
Such scenes as he had just witnessed were not uncommon in the Pandolfi
household, and Don Paolo did not believe that any consequence was to be
expected after he had left the house. He only felt that Marzio had been
more than usually unreasonable, and that the artist could not possibly
mean seriously what he had proposed that evening.

The priest did not indeed think that Gianbattista was altogether good
enough for Lucia. The boy was occasionally a little wild in his speech,
and though he was too much in awe of Don Paolo to repeat before him any
of the opinions he had learned from his master, his manner showed
occasionally that he was inclined to take the side of the latter in most
questions that arose. But the habit of controlling his feelings in order
not to offend the man of the church, and especially in order not to hurt
Lucia's sensitive nature, had begun gradually to change and modify the
young man's character. From having been a devoted admirer of Marzio's