"Will you remain here or will you absent yourself for a few days ?" She rose from her chair and approaching me, knelt down at my side, clasping her two little hands round my arm.

"With your permission," she returned, softly, "I will go to the convent where I was educated.

It is some eight or ten miles distant from here, and I think" (here she counterfeited the most wonderful expression of ingenuous sweetness and piety)--"I think I should like to make a 'RETREAT'-- that is, devote some time solely to the duties of religion before I enter upon a second marriage.

The dear nuns would be so glad to see me--and I am sure you will not object?
It will be a good preparation for my future." I seized her caressing hands and held them hard, while I looked upon her kneeling there like the white-robed figure of a praying saint.
"It will indeed!" I said in a harsh voice.

"The best of all possible preparations! We none of us know what may happen--we cannot tell whether life or death awaits us--it is wise to prepare for either by words of penitence and devotion! I admire this beautiful spirit in you, carina! Go to the convent by all means! I shall find you there and will visit you when the wrath and bitterness of our friend Ferrari have been smoothed into silence and resignation.