Without a word Zorzi smashed the calix off the iron into an old earthen
jar already half full of broken glass. Then he put the pontil in its
place and went to tend the fire. Marietta left the window and entered
the room.
"Am I disturbing you?" she asked gently, as she stood by her father.
"No. I have finished writing." He laid down his pen.
"Another failure?"
"Yes."
"Perhaps I do not bring you good luck with your experiments," suggested
the girl, leaning down and looking over his shoulder at the crabbed
writing, so that her cheek almost touched his. "Is that why you wish to
send me away?"
Beroviero turned in his chair, raised his heavy brows and looked up into
her face, but said nothing.
"Nella has just told me that you have ordered my wedding gown,"
continued Marietta.
"We are not alone," said her father in a low voice.
"Zorzi probably knows what is the gossip of the house, and what I have
been the last to hear," answered the young girl. "Besides, you trust him
with all your secrets."
"Yes, I trust him," assented Beroviero. "But these are private
matters."
"So private, that my serving-woman knows more of them than I do."
"You encourage her to talk."
Marietta laughed, for she was determined to be good-humoured, in spite
of what she said.
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