has no father or mother to control him, it
is true; but he has friend— many friends
and intimates in his own rank —proud,
heartless people, who know nothing of your
worth and goodness; who, hearing of your
low birth, would look on you, and on your
husband too, my child, with contempt. He
has not your patience and fortitude. Think
how bitter it would be for him to bear that
contempt— to see you shunned by proud
women, and carelessly pitied or patronised
by insolent men. Yet all this, and more, he
would have to endure, or else to quit the
world he has lived in from his boyhood the
world he was born to live in. You love him,
I know—-"

Nanina's tears burst out afresh. " O, how
dearly!—how dearly! " she murmured.

"Yes, you love him dearly," continued the
priest; " but would all your love compensate
him for everything else that he must lose?
It might, at first; but there would come a
time when the world would assert its influence
over him again; when he would feel a
want which you could not supply— a weariness
which you could not solace. Think of
his life, then, and of yours. Think of the
first day when the first secret doubt whether
he had done rightly in marrying you would
steal into his mind. We are not masters of
all our impulses. The lightest spirits have
their moments of irresistible depression; the
bravest hearts are not always superior to
doubt. My child, my child, the world is
strong, the pride of rank is rooted deep, and
the human will is frail at best! Be warned!
For your own sake and for Fabio's, be warned
in time."

Nanina stretched out her hands towards
the priest, in despair.

"O, Father Rocco! Father Rocco! " she
cried, "why did you not tell me this before?"

"Because, my child, I only knew of the
necessity for telling you, to-day. But it is not
too late, it is never too late, to do a good
action. You love Fabio, Nanina ? Will you
prove that love by making a great sacrifice
for his good ?"

"I would die for his good!"

"Will you nobly cure him of a passion
which will be his ruin, if not yours, by leaving
Pisa to-morrow ?"

"Leave Pisa! " exclaimed Nanina. Her
face grew deadly pale: she rose and moved
back a step or two from the priest.

"Listen to me," pursued Father Rocco.
"I have heard you complain that you could
not get regular employment at needlework.
You shall have that employment, if you will
go with me— you and your little sister too, of
course— to Florence to-morrow."

"I promised Fabio to go to the studio,"
began Nanina, affrightedly. " I promised to
go at ten o'clock. How can I—-"

She stopped suddenly, as if her breath were
failing her.

"I myself will take you and your sister to
Florence," said Father Rocco, without noticing
the interruption. "I will place you under
the care of a lady who will be as kind as a
mother to you both. I will answer for your
getting such work to do as will enable you to
keep yourself honestly and independently;
and I will undertake, if you do not like your
life at Florence, to bring you back to Pisa
after a lapse of three months only. Three
months, Nanina. It is not a long exile."

"Fabio! Fabio! " cried the girl, sinking
again on the seat, and hiding her face.

"It is for his good," said Father Rocco
calmly; " for Fabio's good, remember."

"What would he think of me if I went
away? O, if I had but learnt to write. If I
could only write Fabio a letter!"

"Am I not to be depended on to explain to
him all that he ought to know?"

"How can I go away from him? O,
Father Rocco, how can you ask me to go
away from him?"

"I will ask you to do nothing hastily. I
will leave you till to-morrow morning to
decide. At nine o'clock I shall be in the
street; and I will not even so much as enter
this house, unless I know beforehand that you
have resolved to follow my advice. Give me
a sign from your window. If I see you wave
your white mantilla out of it, I shall know
that you have taken the noble resolution to
save Fabio and to save yourself. I will say
no more, my child; for, unless I am grievously
mistaken in you, I have already said
enough."

He went out, leaving her still weeping
bitterly. Not far from the house, he met La
Biondella and the dog on their way back.
The little girl stopped to report to him the
safe delivery of her dinner-mats; but he
passed on quickly with a nod and a smile.
His interview with Nanina had left some
influence behind it which unfitted him just
then for the occupation of talking to a child.

Nearly half-an-hour before nine o'clock on
the following morning, Father Rocco set forth
for the street in which Nanina lived. On his
way thither he overtook a dog walking lazily
a few paces a-head in the road-way; and saw,
at the same time, an elegantly-dressed lady
advancing towards him. The dog stopped
suspiciously as she approached, and growled
and showed his teeth when she passed him.
The lady, on her side, uttered an exclamation
of disgust; but did not seem to be either
astonished or frightened by the animal's
threatening attitude. Father Rocco looked
after her with some curiosity, as she walked
by him. She was a handsome woman, and
he admired her courage. " I know that
growling brute well enough," he said to
himself, " but who can the lady be ?"

The dog was Scarammuccia, returning from
one of his marauding expeditions. The lady
was Brigida, on her way to Luca Lomi's
studio.