The BereavedThe little girl appeared at the door, twisting the corner of her apron in her fingers, and said,—
"Here I am!"
Then, when no one paid any attention to her, she looked shyly first at one and then at another of the women who were kneading dough, and spoke again,—
"They told me,—'Go to comare Sidora.'"
"Come here, come here," cried comare Sidora, red as a tomato, as she stood in the back part of the bake-shop. "Wait a moment, and I'll make you a nice cake."
"It means they are bringing comare Nunzia the Viaticum; they've sent the little girl away," observed the woman from Lacodia.
One of the women engaged in kneading the dough, turned her head, with her hands still at work in the trough, her arms bare to the elbow, and asked the little girl,—
"How is your step-mother?"
The
