letters and bringing back the husband's. In June Maria had
the measles, and in August Uncle Piero lost the sight of his left eye,
almost without warning, and for some time was greatly distressed. During
these two periods the letters from Oria were more frequent, but in
September the weekly correspondence was resumed. From the bundle of
letters I take the last that passed between Franco and Luisa, on the eve
of those events which overwhelmed them at the end of September.

LUISA TO FRANCO.

"_September 14, 1856._

"I do not think Pasotti will ever come to our house again. I am
sorry on poor Barborin's account, for I fear she will not be
able to come either, but I do not regret what I did.

"He has known perfectly well for some time that you are in
Turin. He even talked of it with the Receiver, so Maria Pon
told me. She was in the Romit chapel, and heard them talking on
their way down from Albogasio Superiore. When he came here he
would always pretend not to know, and would enquire for you
with his usual assumption of interest and friendship. To-day he
found me alone in the little garden and asked how much longer
you would be absent and whether you were in Milan at present. I
answered frankly that his question surprised me. He turned
pale. 'Why?' said he. 'Because you have been going about saying
that Franco is in an entirely different place.' He became
confused and protested angrily. 'You may protest as much as you
like!' I said. 'It is quite useless. You know that. At all
events Franco is very well off where he is. You may say as much
to whomever you please.' 'You wish to insult me!' he exclaimed.
I did not stop to think long, but retorted: 'That is quite
possible!' Then he rushed away without saluting me, and looking
as black as the ace of spades--that simile suits my present
mood! I am sure he will go to Cressogno this evening.

"Custant has sent us a present of a magnificent tench which he
caught this morning, much to the chagrin of Bianconi, who
fishes all day long, and never catches anything. He is furious
with the impudent tench because they snap their fingers--so to
speak--at His Imperial and Royal Majesty of Austria and his
Carlascia. 'Poor fellow!' says Signora Peppina. 'He is eating
his heart ou