The information—speedily conveyed to him—
that Nanina was in the service of one of the
most respectable ladies in the city, seemed to
relieve any anxieties which he might otherwise
have felt on her account. He made no
attempt to justify himself to her; and only
required that his over-courteous little visitor
of former days should let him know whenever
the girl might happen to leave her new
situation. The admirers of Father Rocco,
seeing the alteration in his life, and the
increased quietness of his manner, said, that as
he was growing older he was getting more
and more above the things of this world. His
enemies (for even Father Rocco had them)
did not scruple to assert that the change in
him was decidedly for the worse, and that he
belonged to the order of men who are most
to be distrusted when they become most
subdued. The priest himself paid no attention,
either to his eulogists or his depreciators.
Nothing disturbed the regularity and discipline
of his daily habits; and vigilant Scandal,
though it sought often to surprise him, sought
always in vain.

Such was Father Rocco's life from the
period of his niece's death to the period of
Fabio's return to Pisa.

As a matter of course, the priest was one
of the first to call at the palace and welcome
the young nobleman back. What passed
between them at this interview never was
precisely known; but it was surmised readily
enough that some misunderstanding had
taken place, for Father Rocco did not repeat
his visit. He made no complaints of Fabio,
but simply stated that he had said something,
intended for the young man's good, which
had not been received in a right spirit; and
that he thought it desirable to avoid the
painful chance of any further collision by not
presenting himself at the palace again for
some little time. People were rather amazed
at this; they would have been still more
surprised if the subject of the masked ball had
not just then occupied all their attention, and
prevented their noticing it, by another strange
event in connection with the priest. Father
Rocco, some weeks after the cessation of his
intercourse with Fabio, returned one morning
to his old way of life as a sculptor, and
opened the long-closed doors of his brother's
studio.

Luca Lomi's former workmen, discovering
this, applied to him immediately for employment;
but were informed that their services
would not be needed. Visitors called at the
studio, but were always sent away again by
the disappointing announcement that there
was nothing new to show them. So the days
passed on until Nanina left her situation and
returned to Pisa. This circumstance was
duly reported to Father Rocco by his
correspondent at Florence; but, whether he was
too much occupied among the statues, or
whether it was one result of his cautious
resolution never to expose himself unnecessarily
to so much as the breath of detraction,
he made no attempt to see Nanina, or even
to justify himself towards her by writing her
a letter. All his mornings continued to be
spent alone in the studio, and all his afternoons
to be occupied by his clerical duties,
until the day before the masked ball at the
Melani Palace. Early on that day, he covered
over the statues, and locked the doors of the
workrooms, once more; then returned to his
own lodgings, and did not go out again. One
or two of his friends who wanted to see him
were informed that he was not well enough
to be able to receive them. If they had
penetrated into his little study, and had seen
him, they would have been easily satisfied
that this was no mere excuse. They would
have noticed that his face was startlingly
pale, and that the ordinary composure of his
manner was singularly disturbed.

Towards evening this restlessness increased;
and his old housekeeper, on pressing him to
take some nourishment, was astonished to
hear him answer her sharply and irritably
for the first time since she had been in his
service. A little later her surprise was
increased by his sending her with a note to the
Ascoli Palace, and by the quick return of an
answer, brought ceremoniously by one of
Fabio's servants. " It is long since he has
had any communication with that quarter.
Are they going to be friends again? " thought
the housekeeper as she took the answer up
stairs to her master.

"I feel better to-night," he said as he read
it: "well enough indeed to venture out. If
any one inquires for me tell them that I am
gone to the Ascoli Palace." Saying this, he
walked to the door—then returned, and
trying the lock of his cabinet, satisfied himself
that it was properly secured—then went out.

He found Fabio in one of the large
drawing-rooms of the palace, walking irritably
backwards and forwards, with several little notes
crumpled together in his hands, and a plain
black domino dress for the masquerade of the
ensuing night spread out on one of the
tables.

"I was just going to write to you," said
the young man, abruptly, "when I received
your letter. You offer me a renewal of our
friendship, and I accept the offer. I have no
doubt those references of yours, when we
last met, to the subject of second marriages,
were well meant, but they irritated me; and,
speaking under that irritation, I said words
that I had better not have spoken. If I
pained you I am sorry for it. Wait! pardon
me for one moment. I have not quite done
yet. It seems that you are by no means the
only person in Pisa to whom the question of
my possibly marrying again appears to have
presented itself. Ever since it was known
that I intended to renew my intercourse with
society, at the ball to-morrow night, I have
been persecuted by anonymous letters—
infamous letters, written from some motive