Three-Cornered Halo Read Online Free

that fell away and away in flower and fruit and vine to the plain below, at the sequined sea and the shimmering blue of the sky. What happiness! To spend all one’s days in contemplation here: a little church embroidery, an hour of ecstasy in a tiny chapel, an hour again in the cool of the evening, tending a garden of flowers dedicated to God.… Abbess, at last, perhaps, bæloved of all, respected of all, walking with gentle dignity, rosary in hand, through her dovecote of merry-eyed, simple-hearted saints.…
    But all this could be of no interest to the Senorita, Innocenta suggested, scything in upon this weedy uprush of spiritual pride along the Little Garden Path; one understood well that in Inghilterra there were no convenutos, no colombaias.…
    â€œOh, but nonsense,” said Winsome, rushing once again to defence of benighted England. “We have many colombaias, lots of them; of both religions, Roman Catholic and Anglican.”
    Well, well, said Innocenta, much interested; she had always been informed quite otherwise. And of different religions, too, how very odd! Here, of course, everyone was Catholica, that was the end of it. But she was surprised. The Church in England, one had always heard, was very narrow, quite, quite opposed to …
    â€œNo, no, of course not,” said Winsome again. “We have lots of them; not so many as the Catholics perhaps, but several. I was in one myself, a very well-known one.”
    Well, fancy, said Innocenta.
    â€œFrom the age of sixteen onwards. I was ‘finished’ there.”
    â€œFinito?” said Innocenta. She sighed and shrugged: too bad, her plump shoulders seemed to say, but that was life.
    Winsome struggled to explain. “I mean I went there to complete my education: many of our girls in England do, for a year or two.…”
    â€œE vere?” said Innocenta.
    â€œTo teach us to—well, to become young ladies, to grow from childhood to womanhood.…”
    Well, certainly, said Innocenta, doubtfully, there could be no surer way. And for girls of different religions, too: a most delicate distinction. “La Colombaia Catholica! La Colombaia Anglica! E singulare!”
    â€œAnd so you see, I am most interested in your plans for turning this lovely building back into a convenuto. The trouble, I suppose …?”
    The trouble, acknowledged Innocenta at once, was a very usual one—there was no money. The present Grand Duke was satisfied with the present state of affairs, he said the Colombaia was filling a need and, said Innocenta lowering her voice though there was no one within a mile of them, he was strangely opposed to many Observances, all the island knew it, though few dared mention it aloud. In the matter of the Canonisation, for example …
    â€œOf El Margherita?”
    Not even a mere ‘Beata,’ said Innocenta: and was it not well known that the Arcivescovo had long, long been eager to apply to Rome; that the affair would have been settled to the happiness and profit of all, had not El Exaltida.… Well, well: it was not wise to speak of it. The very vines had ears in San Juan el Pirata. And meanwhile … She dived her fat brown hand into her fat red plastic handbag and produced a very fat little old, black book. Meanwhile she could get on with the Diary.
    â€œThe Diary?”
    Juanita’s Diary. The Senorita would have heard, must have heard of the Diaries of El Margherita?—they had been translated into Spanish, into Italian …
    â€œBut not into English?”
    Not into English. And now there were many tourists, British and American, coming to the island, there would be a great demand for the books, a great sale for the books when money for the convenuto was so sorely needed; and here was she, Innocenta, one of the very few of the island who could speak both languages. She tenderly unfolded her treasure from its silken wrappings and for the first time Winsome held