Both grandfathers were rich.  Our son Giacomo, on my father’s death, as he had willed, entered upon a considerable estate in the kingdom of Naples, which had for ages been in my family:  he is therefore, and will be, greatly provided for.  Our second son has great prospects before him, in the church:  but you know he cannot marry.  Poor Jeronymo!  We had not, before his misfortune, any great hopes of strengthening the family by his means:  he, alas! (as you well know, who took such laudable pains to reclaim him, before we knew you,) with great qualities, imbibed free notions from bad company, and declared himself a despiser of marriage.  This the two grandfathers knew, and often deplored; for Jeronymo and Clementina were equally their favourites.  To him and the bishop they bequeathed great legacies.

We suspected not, till very lately, that Laurana was deeply in love with the Count of Belvedere; and that her mother and she had views to drive our sweet child into a convent, that Laurana might enjoy the estate; which they hoped would be an inducement to the count to marry her.  Cruel Laurana!  Cruel Lady Sforza!  So much love as they both pretended to our child; and, I believe, had, till the temptation, strengthened by power, became too strong for them.  Unhappy the day that we put her into their hands.

Besides the estate so bequeathed to Clementina, we can do great things for her:  few Italian families are so rich as ours.  Her brothers forget their own interest, when it comes into competition with hers:  she is as generous as they.  Our four children never knew what a contention was, but who should give up an advantage to the other.  This child, this sweet child, was ever the delight of us all, and likewise of our brother the Conte della Porretta.  What joy would her recovery and nuptials give us!  —­Dear creature! we have sometimes thought, that she is the fonder of the sequestered life, as it is that which we wish her not to embrace.—­But can Clementina be perverse?  She cannot.  Yet that was the life of her choice, when she had a choice, her grandfathers’ wishes notwithstanding.

Will you now wonder, chevalier, that neither our sons nor we can allow Clementina to take the veil?  Can we so reward Laurana for her cruelty?  Especially now, that we suspect the motives for her barbarity?  Could I have thought that my sister Sforza—­But what will not love and avarice do, their powers united to compass the same end; the one reigning in the bosom of the mother, the other in that of the daughter?  Alas! alas! they have, between them, broken the spirit of my Clementina.  The very name of Laurana gives her terror—­So far is she sensible.  But, O sir, her sensibility appears only when she is harshly treated!  To tenderness she had been too much accustomed, to make her think an indulgent treatment new, or unusual.

I dread, my dear Dr. Bartlett, yet am impatient, to see the unhappy lady.  I wish the general were not to accompany her.  I am afraid I shall want temper, if he forget his.  My own heart, when it tells me, that I have not deserved ill usage, (from my equals and superiors in rank, especially,) bids me not bear it.  I am ashamed to own to you, my reverend friend, that pride of spirit, which, knowing it to be my fault, I ought long ago to have subdued.