Noemi
wished to follow her, but Jeanne herself begged her to remain. She
stayed behind to tell Carlino that he was unworthy of such a sister.
Carlino went to the music portfolio to search for a small volume of
Bach, grumbling the while that she knew nothing--absolutely nothing.
They kept up their skirmish for some time, Bach himself failing to
soothe their ruffled feelings, and even while playing they continued
joking, first concerning Jeanne, and then about one another's false
notes. At last, however, the clear stream of sound, which had been
ruffled by the eddies of their angry outbursts, conquered their
ill-humour, and flowed on smoothly, reflecting the heavens and idyllic
banks. Jeanne carried _"l'Intruse"_ to her room, but did not continue her
reading. The room looked out on the Lac d'Amour. She sat down by the
window. Beyond the bridge, beyond the rolling hilltops--destitute of
trees--which loomed between intervening houses, she could see the summit
of a lofty tower, shrouded fantastically in azure mists. She heard the
continuous peaceful flow of Bach, and thought of Don Giuseppe with that
feeling of melancholy which we experience when we catch a last glimpse
of some beloved home, turning at every step to look back until at length
some bend in the road hides the last corner, the last window from sight.
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