Secrets of the seamstress

Midmorning, I heard the wheels of the carriage on the gravel outside. Just then, miraculously, things had gone quiet. The marchesina was sleeping peacefully. The midwife had gone into the dressing room to wash her face in the basin and tidy up her hair a little. I looked out the window and saw Dr Fratta stepping out of the carriage, and the marquis going to meet him. Had he called for the doctor without telling us, frightened by the screaming, or had the doctor come of his own accord? I saw them step through the French doors and into the parlour.

I don’t know how the idea came to me, what guardian angel or wicked genie put it into my head. I ran over to the bed, dipped a cloth in the jug of water and wiped Signorina Ester’s brow, and she sweetly awoke. I put a finger to my lips. “Sshh! Let’s listen in.” I tiptoed to the heater and opened the smoke duct. The two men’s voices resounded clearly, loud enough that the midwife hurried out of the dressing room and looked around. I gestured to her to keep quiet as well, pointing to the heater. The doctor was saying, “From what I hear, the situation