"
Beatrice grew slowly pale. Her mother had, for once, a remarkably direct
and clear way of putting the matter, and the young girl began to waver.
If her mother succeeded in proving to her that she had really bound
herself, she would submit. It is not easy to convey to the foreign mind
generally the enormous importance which is attached in Italy to a
distinct promise of marriage. It indeed almost amounts, morally
speaking, to marriage itself, and the breaking of it is looked upon
socially almost as an act of infidelity to the marriage bond. A young
girl who refuses to keep her engagement is called a civetta--an
owlet--probably because owlets are used as a decoy all over the country
in snaring and shooting all small birds. Be that as it may, the term is
a bitter reproach, it sticks to her who has earned it and often ruins
her whole life. That is what the Marchesa meant when she told Beatrice
that she knew what the world would call her, and the threat had weight.
The young girl rose from her seat and began to walk to and fro on the
terrace, her head bent, her hands clasped together. The Marchesa slowly
puffed at her cigarette and watched her daughter with half-closed eyes.
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