Corleone: A Tale of Sicily

nding, all near together and not far from the empty fireplace, listening to Tebaldo Pagliuca, who was talking about Sicily with a very strong Sicilian accent. Orsino paused a momen

, which were slightly bloodshot, like those of some Arabs, and at the same time by the mobility and changing expression of the lower part of the face. Tebaldo made gestures, too, which had a singular directness. Yet the whole impression given was that he was a good actor rather than a man of continued, honest action, and that he could have performed any other part as well. Near him stood his brother Francesco. There was doubtless a family resemblance between the two, but the di

tive source of the most all-pervading virtue, without the least charity for unhappiness' sins; happiness suffices to itself; happiness is a lantern to its own feet; it is all things to one man and nothing to all the rest; it is an impenetrable wall between him who has it and mankind. And Sant' Ilario had been happy for nearly thirty years. In appearance, as was to be anticipated, he had turned out to be like his father, as the latter had been at the same age. In temper, he was different, as the conditions of his life had been of another sort. The ancient head

ce in the family, because their grandfather was such a very old man. They were accustomed to take it for granted that he was infallible when he expressed himself definitely in a family matter, whereas they had no very high opinion of his

patience of the two young men who had sought occasion against their sister's lover, and there was a squaring of the angular jaws and a quick forward movement of the h

t down by his mother, who looked at him quietly and smiled, and then went on speaking. The young girl glanced at Orsino. She was leaning forward, one elbow on her knee, and her chin supported in her hand, her lip

d when you were so young!' exclaimed Vitt

ile. 'And I married very young,' she added thoughtfully. 'I

ust eighteen,' r

was scarcely sevente

s been so happy. Wh

at I have always been ha

were very happy, too. But it was different.

a, and she smiled again, an

made sure of it, looking again and again at the two while she joined a little in the conversation which was going on around her. She was very happy, just then, poor lady, and almost forgot to struggle against the accumul

forgotten the young girl after dinner when he had sat down in a corner of the smoking-room, but San Giacinto's remark had vividly recalled her f

t daring to speak, while he was apparently making up his mind what to say. It had been much easier during dinner, she thought, because she had been put in her place without being consulted, and was expected to be

quite straight, between her two small, white-gloved hands. The nuns had not told her what to do in any such situat

ll herself such things, for her embarrassment grew apace, till she felt that she must spring from her seat and run from the room without looking at

t she was doing. In her suppressed excitement the holy personages raced and tumbled over each other at a most unseemly rate, till the

Saint Peter's?'

ll events it had opened the conversation. He remembered well enough the half dozen earnest words they had exchanged; and there was something more than mere memory, for he

as we came. She was very anxious that we s

smiled

of Rome,' he observed. 'Our p

ed up in genu

on saint of Rome!' she excla

ot. Six or seven years ago we were all in a frantic state of excitement over our greatness. We have turned out to be no

ghed a

him in wonder. 'It is-it is all so different from what I expected-the thin

ul turn of her young throat as she looked away, and the fine growth of silky hair from the temples and behind the curving little ear. The room was warm, and he sat

,' he said at last. 'And what you expecte

f she had been a young married woman, her charm would have been different, and of a kind not new to him. There was a novelty about Vittoria, and it attracted him strongly. There was real freshness and untried youth in her; she had that sort of delic

ing a little at the thought that she could have

sort of extra-natural musical life, of which the woman herself cannot control nor calculate the power. It is not the 'golden voice' which some great actresses have. One recognises that at the first hearing; one admits its beauty; one hears it three or four times, and one knows it by heart. It will pronounce certain phrases in a certain way, inevitably; it will so

ugh ever so ?sthetised and refined, but passion clothes fact with unearthly attributes; sense is singly selfish, passion would make a single self of two. The sensual man says, 'To have seen much and to have little is to have rich eyes and poor hands'; the passionate man or woman will 'put it to the test, to win or lose it all,' like Montrose. Se

an indelible impression upon her mind before the first evening of their acquaintance was over. The woman who falls in love with a man for his looks alone is

nly begin to fall in love at a first meeting, who would scout the idea as an absurdity. For love's beginnings are most exce