“Why are you crying? That’s the way it happened. Maybe I wasn’t even worthy enough to be a mother.”

Maria was Vanna’s confidant, the dearest face that brightened her father’s house.

“You see, I’d never talk to Mama about these things,” Vanna would say. “I don’t know why. Either I’ve changed or she has. I’ve tried to talk to her the way I did before, when she welcomed all my childhood secrets. But it’s not the same. She doesn’t hear beyond the words I say, she doesn’t see all that is dark and deep and unexplainable in my soul. My words echo back from her tired, heavy heart without the warm affection I always used to feel. I’ve done nothing but manage to frighten her, to make her cry. It makes me sad.”

“Really, it is sad,” added Maria. “But you still need to explain your reasons to someone. I know everything. What about the others?”

“No, no,” exclaimed Vanna. “I open up with you because you understand me. The others wouldn’t understand. They’d say it was all romantic nonsense. Don’t tell them anything, Maria. Believe me, our house has changed….”

Even Ninetta seemed different. She was short tempered and cried like a baby if no one accompanied her in the evenings to hear music in the square. At nineteen she was terrified of remaining a spinster, subject to one of her sisters-in-law, since she didn’t have a dowry and her parents were old.

One evening they called Vanna into the living room. There were visitors. An old acquaintance was shocked that Vanna had come alone.

“From Rome?” she repeated, shaking her head.

“And her husband allowed her to leave?” exclaimed Viola’s godmother.

They looked squarely at her with an air of suspicion, asking questions and making blunt comments.

“What? You don’t know how long you’ll be staying?”

“What an idea, letting a young wife go off like that! It’s nothing to make light of! Coming alone from il Continente….”

Vanna left the room with an excuse. Later, she saw Ninetta in tears.

“What’s wrong?” she asked sweetly.

“What’s wrong,” said Ninetta staring hard at her, “is that people are malicious. That godmother went on and on when she was alone with us, and we didn’t know how to answer her….”

“It’s such a normal thing … that I would come to visit you …” said Vanna in a timid voice.

“Oh really,” repeated Ninetta, sobbing. “Well, your behavior certainly hasn’t escaped anyone’s attention around here!”

Vanna looked sadly at her younger sister, who was speaking to her like that, in such a harsh tone. She went back out on the terrace without answering.