“But Giancarl’,” Roberto had continued uneasily, “there is something you need to know. Look about you.This is all I have in the world—this one little house with a tiny piece of land to grow a few vegetables on. But I have two sons. I cannot divide the house in two, so someday I will have to make a decision, and it’s better for you to know right now what that decision will be, instead of finding out later on someday, when I am gone. Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?”

Giancarlo had given a sigh.

“Are you trying to tell me, Papa,” he replied softly, “that one day, when you are gone, I will inherit your watch, but Giorgio will inherit your house?”

His father had given a sigh of his own and shrugged in resignation.

“I will do the best I can for you,” he promised. “I have found work for Giorgio with the telephone company when he finishes school this year. I will do the same for you next year, when you have finished. I will do everything I can to help you along to get you started.”

Giancarlo of course had understood how things were.What his father had told him came as no surprise at all. Still, he had felt embittered. The business about the house had only reinforced the notion that the random accident of his having been born second had condemned him to perpetual subordination to his brother. It was a feeling that had never sat well with him. There had also been the matter of his father’s pragmatic plans to find work for him when he finished high school. Giancarlo had been making plans of his own, to continue his education and pursue his love of music.These would inevitably conflict with those of his father, just as his plans to pursue Antonella would conflict with those of his brother.

Not long after Ferdinando died later that same year, the Portinaris, to no one’s surprise in the village, moved into the house. At first, Antonella’s coming to live in Castelalto had been a cause of great joy to Giancarlo. This soon gave way to dismay, and his resentment of his older brother had only grown worse when Giorgio promptly began to court her before Giancarlo had even summoned up the nerve to say hello. Ironically, it had been Giorgio who would first introduce him to Antonella, when he brought her by the house one day to meet his father. Giancarlo had been at the piano playing when the two had walked in.

“Don’t stop. That sounds beautiful,” was the first thing Antonella had said to him, her eyes piercing straight to his soul, just as they had on the day he had first seen her. Her eyes had haunted him ever since.