At that moment Colin turned, and looked almost towards her, without seeing her. She could have cried out Colin! as she saw his beautiful face and his kindly eyes too kindly to be untrue, surely turned nearly upon her; but Cecca, Cecca, the terrible unseen Cecca, somehow restrained her. And Cecca, too, had actually accepted him. Didnt the Yankee man he called Winthrop say, I congratulate you? There was only one meaning possible to put upon such a sentence. Accept him! Why, how could any woman conceivably refuse him? as he moved forward there with his delicate clear-cut face, a face in which the aesthetic temperament stood confessed so unmistakably Minna could hardly blame this unknown Cecca if she fell in love with him. But for herself oh, Colin, Cohn, Colin, it was too cruel.
She would at least see Cecca before she stole away unperceived for ever; she would see what manner of woman this was that had enticed away Colin Churchills love from herself, if indeed he had ever loved her, which was now at least far more than doubtful. So she moved aside gently behind the clay figures, and came in sight of the third person.
It was the exact Italian beauty of her long-nursed girlish terrors! A queenly dark woman, with supple statuesque figure and splendidly set head, was standing before the two young artists in an attitude half studied pose, half natural Calabrian peasant gracefulness. Her brown neck and arms were quite bare; her large limbs were scarcely concealed below by a short and clinging sculpturesque kirtle. She was looking towards Colin with big languishing eyes, and her smile for she was smiling had something in it of that sinister air that northerners often notice among even the most beautiful women of the Mediterranean races. It was plain that she couldnt understand what her two admirers were saying in their foreign language; but it was plain also that she knew they were praising her extraordinary beauty, and her eyes flashed forth accordingly with evident pride and overflowing self-satisfaction. Cecca was beautiful, clearly beautiful, both in face and figure, with a rich, mature southern beauty (though in years perhaps she was scarcely twenty), and Minna was forced in spite of herself to admire her form; but she felt instinctively there was something about the girl that she would have feared and dreaded, even if she hadnt heard Colin Churchill speaking of her with such unstinted and unhesitating admiration. So this was Cecca! So this was Cecca! And so this was the end, too, of all her long romantic day-dream!
As she stood there, partly doubting whether to run away or not, Cecca caught sight of her half hidden behind the Apollo, and turning to Colin, cried out sharply in a cold, ringing, musical voice as clear and as cold as crystal, See, see; a signorina! She waits to speak with you.
Colin looked round carelessly, and before Minna could withdraw his eyes met hers in a sudden wonder.
Minna! he cried, rushing forward eagerly to meet her, Minna! Minna! Why, it must be Minna! How on earth did you manage to get to Rome, little woman? and why on earth didnt you let me know beforehand you were really coming?
He tried to kiss her as he spoke, but Minna, half doubtful what she ought to do, with swimming brain and tearful eyes, held him off mechanically by withdrawing herself timidly a little, and gave him her hand instead with strange coldness, much to his evident surprise and disappointment.
Shes too modest to kiss me before Winthrop and Cecca, Colin thought to himself a little nervously; but no matter Winthrop, this is my cousin from England, Miss Wroe, that Ive so often spoken to you about.
His cousin from England! His cousin!! His cousin!!! Ah, yes, that was all he meant by it nowadays clearly. He wanted to kiss her, but merely as a cousin; all his heart, it seemed, was only for this creature he called Cecca, who stood there scowling at her so savagely from under her great heavy eyebrows. He had gone to Rome, as she feared so long ago, and had fallen into the clutches of that dreaded terrible Italian woman.
Well, Minna, Colin said, looking at her so tenderly that even Minna herself half believed he must be still in earnest, and so youve come to Italy, have you? My dear little girl, why didnt you write and tell me all about it? Youve broken in upon me so unexpectedly. (So I see, thought Minna.) Why didnt you write and let me know beforehand you were coming to see me?
Minnas heart prompted her inwardly to answer with truth, Because I wanted to surprise you, Colin; but she resisted the natural impulse, much against the grain, and answered instead with marked chilliness, Because I didnt know my movements were at all likely to interest you.
As they two spoke, Hiram Winthrop noticed half unconsciously that Ceccas eyes were steadily riveted upon the newcomer, and that the light within them had changed instantaneously from the quiet gleam of placid self-satisfaction to the fierce glare of rising anger and jealous suspicion.
Colin still held Minnas hand half doubtfully in his, and looked with his open face all troubled into her pretty brown eyes, wondering vaguely what on earth could be the meaning of this unexpected coldness of demeanour.
Tell me at least how you got here, little woman, he began again in his soft, gentle voice, with quiet persuasiveness. Whatever brought you here, Minna, Im so glad, so very glad to see you. Tell me how you came, and how long youre going to stop with me.
Minna sat down blankly on the one chair that stood in the central area of the little studio, not because she wanted to stay there any longer, but because she felt as if her trembling knees were positively giving way beneath her. Ive taken a place as governess to a Russian girl, Colin, she answered shortly; and Ive come to Rome with my pupils mother.
Colin felt sure by the faintness of her voice that there was something very serious the matter. Minna dearest, he whispered to her half beneath his breath, you arent well, Im certain. Ill send away my friend and my model, and then you must tell me all about it, like a dear good little woman.
Minna started, and her face flushed suddenly again with mounting colour. Your model, she cried, pointing half contemptuously towards the scowling Cecca. Your model! Is that woman over there a model, then?
Yes, certainly, Colin answered lightly.
This ladys a model, Minna. We call her Cecca thats short for Francesca, you know and shes my model for a statue of a Spartan maiden Im now working upon.
But Cecca, though she couldnt follow the words, had noticed the contemptuous tone and gesture with which Minna had scornfully spoken of that woman, and she knew at once in her hot Italian heart that she stood face to face with a natural enemy. An enemy and a rival. For Cecca, too, had in her own way her small fancies and her bold ambitions.
Shes very beautiful, isnt she? Hiram Winthrop put in timidly, for he saw with his keen glance that Ceccas handsome face was growing every moment blacker and blacker, and he wanted to avert the coming explosion.
Well, not so very beautiful to my mind, Minna answered, with studied coolness, putting her head critically a little on one side, and staring at the model as if she had been made of plaster of Paris; though I must say you gentlemen seemed to be admiring her immensely when I came into the room a minute or two ago. I confess she doesnt exactly take my own personal fancy.
What is the signorina saying? Cecca broke in haughtily, in Italian. She felt sure from the scornful tone of Minnas voice that it must at least be something disparaging.