eyes. A man may make such eyes, and yet find it in his heart to beat
a wife who never did a thing to vex him! It made my flesh creep to
see those eyes again."

After this she would not say another word. The curato also remained
silent. He bethought himself of more than one wise saying, wherewith
the maiden might have been admonished; but he refrained, in
consideration of the young boatman, who had been growing rather
restless toward the close of this confession.

When, after two hours' rowing, they reached the little bay of Capri,
Antonio took the padre in his arms, and carried him through the last
few ripples of shallow water, to set him reverently down upon his
legs on dry land. But Laurella did not wait for him to wade back and
fetch her. Gathering up her little petticoat, holding in one hand
her wooden shoes and in the other her little bundle, with one
splashing step or two she had reached the shore. "I have some time
to stay at Capri," said the priest. "You need not wait--I may not
perhaps return before to-morrow. When you get home, Laurella,
remember me to your mother; I will come and see her within the week.
You mean to go back before it gets dark?"

"If I find an opportunity," answered the girl, turning all her
attention to her skirts.

"I must return, you know," said Antonio, in a tone which he believed
to be one of great indifference. "I shall wait here till the Ave
Maria. If you should not come, it is the same to me."

"You must come," interposed the little priest; "you never can leave