Carmella Commands
It was perplexing. The dream, he knew, could never become real.
Maria laughed next morning to see Carmella bound out of bed without being called, and called again, and shaken. That was the routine of the girl’s rising. But now she was dressed almost as early as her mother. And helped to get breakfast, a thing she also rarely did without being scolded into it.
Maria watched her deft handling of dishes and food. Particularly when she ground the coffee was her mother amazed. So far as she knew never yet had Carmella ground the coffee. Freshly-ground coffee was one of Tommaso’s breakfast whims. He would have it. He had got the idea from some American acquaintance, had brought home a coffee grinder and taught his wife to use it.
Every morning she ground it fresh for him, complaining that he should be so notional, and secretly proud that he should be.
Carmella had never before shown interest in the making of a breakfast. Yet here was she now catering to her father’s newest whim. To Maria it was as if she suddenly had a new daughter. Her thoughts ran on:
“Surely, after all, the child will be a good wife for some good man. If only she chooses a good man! It seems there are so many who are not good in this new land. If only she would like to wash dishes now, where could one find a better daughter?”
[42]
