Brendon had asked for some private conversation and the other gladly
agreed.
"As you know, I'm going to spend the day in the red man's haunt,"
explained Mark, "and I'll call at supper time since you wish it; but
before you go, I'll ask you to stroll along for an hour. I want to
talk to you."
"That will suit me very well," said the other, and in half an hour
he returned to Brendon, found him chatting with Jenny in the dark
portal of the silkworm house, and drew him away.
"You shall have speech with her to-night after supper," promised
Giuseppe. "Now it is my turn. We will ascend to the little shrine on
the track above the orchards. There are shrines too many to the Holy
Mother, my friend. But this one is not to Madonna of the wind, or
the sea, or the stars. I call her 'Madonna del farniente'--the saint
for weary people, whose bodies and brains both ache from too much
work."
They climbed aloft presently, Doria in a holiday suit of
golden-brown cloth with a ruby tie, and Brendon attired in tweeds,
his luncheon in his pocket.
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