I begin to love Father Marescotti.  He was with the foremost in praising you.

The general owned, that he was resolved once to quarrel with you.  But will he, do you think, Jeronymo, said he, make me a visit at Naples?

You may depend upon it, he will, answered I——­

I will be there to receive him, replied he.

They admired you particularly for your address to my sister, by the general, rather than by me.  And Lady Sforza said, it was a thousand pities that you and Clementina could not be one.  They applauded, all of them, what they had not, any of them, the power to imitate, that largeness of heart which makes you think so well, and speak so tenderly, of those of communions different from your own.  So much steadiness in your own religion, yet so much prudence, in a man so young, they said, was astonishing!  No wonder that your character ran so high, in every court you had visited.

My mother came in soon after you had left us.  She was equally surprised and grieved to find you gone.  She thought she was sure of your staying supper; and, not satisfied with the slight leave she had taken, she had been strengthening her mind to pass an hour in your company, in order to take a more solemn one.

My father asked her after her daughter.

Poor soul! said she, she has heard that the chevalier was to be here, to take leave of us.

By whom? by whom? said my father.

I cannot tell:  but the poor creature is half-raving to be admitted among us.  She has dressed herself in one of her best suits; and I found her sitting in a kind of form, expecting to be called down.  Indeed, Lady Sforza, the method we are in, does not do.  So the chevalier said, replied that lady.  Well, let us change it, with all my heart.  It is no pleasure to treat the dear girl harshly—­O sister! this is a most extraordinary man!

That moment in bolted Camilla—­Lady Clementina is just at the door.  I could not prevail upon her—­

We all looked upon one another.

Three soft taps at the door, and a hem, let us know she was there.

Let her come in, dear girl, let her come in, said the count:  the chevalier is not here.

Laurana arose, and ran to the door, and led her in by the hand.

Dear creature, how wild she looked!—­Tears ran down my cheeks:  I had not seen her for two days before.  O how earnestly did she look round her! withdrawing her hand from her cousin, who would have led her to a chair, and standing quite still.

Come and sit by me, my sweet love, said her weeping mother.—­She stept towards her.

Sit down, my dear girl.

No:  you beat me, remember.

Who beat you, my dear?—­Sure nobody would beat my child!—­Who beat you,
Clementina?

I don’t know—­Still looking round her, as wanting somebody.

Again her mother courted her to sit down.

No, madam, you don’t love me.