Free The Thief of Venice by Jane Langton Page B

erecting the crosses of the thieves, the armed men on horseback, the weeping mourners, the threatening sky, and the towering figure of Christ with his arms spread wide on the cross.
 
    *19*
    Mrs. Wellesley was the perfect stereotype of a mother-in-law—sharp, critical, inquisitive, and demanding. The fact that she was also a supreme bore was another feather in her cap. Sam put up with her patiently, remembering how devotedly she had nursed her dying daughter. And how could he have refused her unselfish offer to stay on after Henrietta's death and take care of Ursula?
    Sam had been grateful. He had welcomed his mother-in-law with a newly furnished bedroom, a generous stipend and a comfortable allowance for expenses, and she had taken hold at once.
    Therefore how could he cavil at the nature of her care? Ursula was well fed, well bathed, well clothed, supplied with expensive dolls and toys, and taken to suitable films and entertainments. Last summer there had been an expedition to the sandy beaches of the Lido and another to a theme park on the mainland.
    "I hope you don't expect me to take the child to church," Dorothea had said at once. "I regard the Christian religion as dangerous for the impressionable mind of a child, especially the papist version here in Italy."
    "Oh, no, of course I don't expect it." But Sam had felt a slight misgiving. It was true that he himself made jokes about saints' bones and relics of the True Cross, and here he was putting the matter to the test! And yet his mother-in-law's severe atheism seemed a cold inheritance for a little child.
    So for the last three years father and grandmother had been sharing the task of caring for the youngest member of the family.
    Mrs. Wellesley provided supervision over the little girl's every move, Sam supplied the affection the child was hungry for, whispering to her in Italian and bouncing her on his knee—
Alpasso, alpasso
Va il cavallo del gradasso.
Al trotto, al trotto
Va il caval del giovanotto.
Al galoppo, al galoppo
Va il cavallo dell' Ursula, e ... PUMFETE!
    But why was his mother-in-law so inquisitive? Sam found her habit of poking into every nook and cranny of his private life especially irksome. Her nosiness was the reason for the lock he had attached to his study door two years ago. At least now he could keep his papers and correspondence away from her prying eyes, although sometimes Sam wondered if his letters were opened before he picked them up from the hall table. The envelopes sometimes looked a little odd, as though they had been opened very delicately and pasted shut again.
    For Dorothea Wellesley the lock was infuriating. It was an insult. How could there be secrets between her and her son-in-law? Did Sam have a secret woman? Someone he didn't dare bring home? Oh, she wouldn't put it past him!
    The truth was, Sam's mother-in-law was as suspicious as her daughter had been of his possible erotic adventures. In fact it was Dorothea's warnings about the perfidy of men that had been responsible for Henrietta's wariness. She had been cautioned about voluptuous secretaries, curvaceous librarians, and sultry professional colleagues. She had been frightened into a state of perpetual jealousy. She had confronted Sam with her suspicions at every turn.
    Poor dear Henrietta! She was gone now, carried off by a malignancy that had spread from her breasts to her lymph nodes to her liver. But her mother was still on guard. Three years after the death of Sam's wife, Mrs. Wellesley suspected darkly that he was ready for new amorous adventures. He was still so good-looking! And a widower! And a man with an important position! And therefore highly vulnerable to the seductive attentions of women on the make. He might betray Henrietta's memory at any time by sneaking off with some alluring female. Dorothea knew the pitiful prevarications of men. If there was one thing on this earth that she understood from top to bottom, and inside and out, and back to front in