Her mouth was small; but the very red lips, and the glitter of the very white teeth, conveyed something of the image of a wild animal. In broken English and a foreign accent, she offered to tell their fortunes; while her quick eye glanced from one to another, as if taking the most minute observation.
"We have not time," answered Francesca.
"Nay, lady," said the gipsy, in Italian; "yourself and your brother are too young not to look eagerly towards the future."
Her shrewd eye, accustomed to note the slightest indications, had already marked their likeness to each other, and that ease of affection which belongs to habit and relationship.
Only those who have dwelt in a foreign land, can tell the charm of hearing their native tongue spoken unexpectedly,—the tongue whose music was around their infancy, and in which were breathed their first words of love! Tears brightened the eyes of the young Italians; a passionate longing for their own land was at that moment the only feeling in their mind.
The gipsy, noticing their emotion, added, "And, beside the future, I can tell you of the past. Is there nothing,—are there none of whom yon care to hear,—in your own and beautiful Italy?"
