She did.

Let me, said the bishop, speak to her.  He arose, and, taking her hand, walked with her about the room.  You look pretty, my Clementina!  Your ornaments are charmingly fancied.  What made you dress yourself so prettily?

She looked earnestly at him, in silence.  He repeated his question—­I speak, said she, all my heart; and then I suffer for it.  Every body is against me.

You shall not suffer for it:  every body is for you.

I confessed to Mrs. Beaumont; I confessed to you, brother:  but what did I get by it?—­Let go my hand.  I don’t love you, I believe.

I am sorry for it.  I love you, Clementina, as I love my own soul!

Yet you never chide your own soul!

He turned his face from her to us.  She must not be treated harshly, said he.  He soothed her in a truly brotherly manner.

Tell me, added he to his soothings, Did you expect any body here, that you find not?

Did I?  Yes, I did.—­Camilla, come hither.—­Let go my hand, brother.

He did.  She took Camilla under the arm—­Don’t you know, Camilla, said she, what you heard said of somebody’s threatening somebody?—­Don’t let anybody hear us; drawing her to one end of the room.—­I want to take a walk with you into the garden, Camilla.

It is dark night, madam.

No matter.  If you are afraid, I will go by myself.

Seem to humour her in talk, Camilla, said the count; but don’t go out of the room with her.

Be pleased to tell me, madam, what we are to walk in the garden for?

Why, Camilla, I had a horrid dream last night; and I cannot be easy till
I go into the garden.

What, madam, was your dream?

In the orange grove, I thought I stumbled over the body of a dead man!

And who was it, madam?

Don’t you know who was threatened?  And was not somebody here to night? 
And was not somebody to sup here?  And is he here?

The general then went to her.  My dearest Clementina; my beloved sister; set your heart at rest.  Somebody is safe:  shall be safe.

She took first one of his hands, then the other; and looking in the palms of them, They are not bloody, said she.—­What have you done with him, then?  Where is he?

Where is who?

You know whom I ask after; but you want something against me.

Then stepping quick up to me:  My Jeronymo!—­Did I see you before? and stroked my cheek.—­Now tell me, Jeronymo—­Don’t come near me, Camilla.  Pray, sir, to the general, do you sit down.  She leaned her arm upon my shoulder:  I don’t hurt you, Jeronymo:  do I?

No, my dearest Clementina!

That’s my best brother.—­Cruel assassins!—­But the brave man came just in time to save you.—­But do you know what is become of him?

He is safe, my dear.  He could not stay.

Did any body affront him?

No, my love.