de her the repository of all her everyday thoughts, her hopes; but
the countess had always answered her with vague, uncertain words, or
with silence. Alas! Sophia was fated to lose every object on which
she had set her affection. After having closed the eyes of her mother
and sister, adverse fortune obliged her to witness the death of the
Countess Galeazzi.

When her affairs were looked into, it was found that she left her
large fortune to Sophia Cadori; so that that which deprived her of so
tender, so generous a friend, should also have made her happiness
complete. Every obstacle that divided from her Edoardo, which
separated her from him she loved so ardently, had vanished. In a few
days a boundless love, a love of six years, a love she had cherished
through so many sorrows, would be crowned! In a few days she would be
Sophia Valperghi!

She wrote a letter full of the joys and hopes soon to be realised to
her dear Edoardo; she was happy, as happy as she had desired, as
happy as she had so long dreamed of being; she made all preparations
for her marriage. Being now quite independent of him, she spoke of it
to her father--to every one; she sought garments of the colour and
taste that she knew Edoardo liked; she imagined and planned a
thousand surprises. How many times did she put the cherished wreath
on her head, consult her mirror, study every position in which those
flowers might appear to better advantage and increase her beauty! How
often did she open the box that contained it to kiss it, to look at
it, scarcely daring to touch it for fear of spoiling a leaf, of
disarranging a fibre!

At length came the answer to her letter; an answer that to any other
person might have seemed constrained, cold, terrible; but it was, on
the contrary, to Sophia the seal of her felicity. She was only
afflicted that Edoardo should have made illness an apology, which he
said prevented him from coming immediately to Padua. To Sophia it was
as clear as the sun that expressions of affection did not abound,
because they had now at command what she and Edoardo had so long
hoped and looked for; that the letter did not dwell on particulars,
precisely because great joy is not talkative, and because the illness
of Edoardo prevented it. She made ready to set out to Venice without
delay, expecting that her father would join her there, and that the
nuptials would be celebrated in that city when the health of Edoardo
would permit.

Arrived at