"The holy man ?" Gervasio stood before her, pale and trembling.

"You are too late, Madonna.

Already he is gone." She observed his agitation now, and beheld in it a reflection of her own, springing from the selfsame causes.

"Oh, it was a sign indeed!" she exclaimed.

"And you have come to realize it, too, I see." Next, in a burst of gratitude that was almost pitiful upon such slight foundation, "Oh, blessed Agostino!" she cried out.
Then the momentary exaltation fell from that woman of sorrows.