over across the lake which could be seen from Peschiera, looking like a
peaceful little bay, and where the pretty white houses looked so
friendly and attractive.

The musicians were rowed all together across the lake in an open boat
under the clear heavens; and Rico thought, "Oh, if I could be rowed
across here, with Stineli by my side! How astonished she would be at the
lake, whose beauty she would not believe in."

But once on the other shore, the noise began again, and the boy became
impatient to be off; for the view of Riva from across the lake, lying in
the lovely light of evening, was far more beautiful than being there in
the midst of the noise and tumult.

However, when there were no dances at which he must play, the lad was
always allowed to go in the evening to little Silvio, and to remain as
long as he wished; for the landlady was anxious to show her willingness
to accommodate Mrs. Menotti. This was always a pleasure to Rico.
Whenever he passed along the lake-side, he went over to the little
stone bridge, and sat there for a while on the ground; for this was the
only place in the world where he had a home-like feeling, because what
he saw there he had seen before, and also here the vision of his mother
rose most clearly before his memory.

There she had certainly stood by the water-side, and washed
something, while she would look around at him occasionally, and say a
few loving words; and he was always sitting, he remembered, in that
very place where he now sat. He was always most unwilling to leave
this spot, but the knowledge that Silvio was constantly listening for
him drove him onward.