Think of it, Tista, while you are at work, and bring me word when you come to dinner." "Never fear, love," replied Gianbattista confidently; "what else should I think of while I am hammering away all day?
A little kiss, to give me courage." In a moment he was gone, and his quick step resounded on the stairs as he ran down, leaving Lucia at the door above, to catch the last good-bye he called up to her when he reached the bottom.

His fresh voice came up to her mingled with the rattle of the lumbering carts in the street.

She answered the cry and went in.
Just then the sleepy Signora Pandolfi emerged from her chamber, clad in the inevitable skirt and white cotton jacket, her heavy black hair coiled in an irregular mass on the top of her head, and held in place by hair-pins that seemed to be on the point of dropping out.
"Ah, Lucia, my darling! Such a night as I have passed!" she moaned, sinking into a chair beside the table, on which the coffee-pot and the empty cups were still standing.

"Such a night, my dear! I have not closed an eye.

I am sure it is the last judgment! And this scirocco, too, it is enough to kill one!" "Courage, mamma," answered Lucia gaily.