Madame
Petrucci, always serene and kind, took no notice of these little
changes, but they were particularly irritating to Miss Prunty, who was,
after all, only four years older than the signorino. That lady had,
indeed, become more than usually sharp and foreboding. She received the
signorino's gay effusions in ominous silence, and would frown darkly
while Madame Petrucci petted her "little bird," as she called Goneril.
Once indeed Miss Prunty was heard to remark it was tempting Providence
to have dealings with a creature whose very name was a synonym for
ingratitude. But the elder lady only smiled, and declared that her
Gonerilla was charming, delicious, a real sunshine in the house.
"Now I call on you to support me, signorino," she cried one evening,
when the three elders sat together in the room while Goneril watered the
roses on the terrace. "Is not my Goneril a charming little bebe?"
Signor Graziano withdrew his eyes from the window.
"Most charming, certainly; but scarcely such a child. She is seventeen,
you know, my dear signora."
"Seventeen! Santo Dio! And what is one at seventeen but an innocent,
playful, charming little kitten?"
"You are always right, madame," agreed the signorino; but he looked as
if he thought she were very wrong.
"Of course I am right," laughed the little lady.
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