and, as Gaspare had said, what did they know, or understand, of the
Neapolitans, they who were strangers in the land?

She wondered whether Vere was still outside. To-night she certainly
envisaged Vere newly. Never till to-night had she thought of her as
anything but a child; as characteristic, as ardent, as determined
sometimes, perhaps as forceful even, but always with a child's mind
behind it all.

But to the people of the South Vere was already a woman--even to
Gaspare, who had held her in his arms when she was in long clothes. At
least Hermione supposed so now, after what Gaspare had said about the
giovinotti, who, in Sicily, would have been wishing to marry Vere, had
she been Sicilian. And perhaps even the mind of Vere was more grown-up
than her mother had been ready to suppose.

The mother was conscious of a slight but distinct uneasiness. It was
vague. Had she been asked to explain it she could not, perhaps, have
done so.

Presently, after a minute or two of hesitation, she went to the window
that faced north, opened it, and stood by, listening. It was from the
sea on this side that the fishermen who lived in the Mergellina, and
in the town of Naples, came to the islet. It was from this direction
that Ruffo had come three days ago.

Evidently Gaspare had been turning over the boy's acquaintance with
Vere in his mind all that time, disapproving of it, secretly
condemning Hermione for having allowed it. No, not that; Hermione felt
that he was quite incapable of condemning her. But he was a watchdog