t ask Giovanni to accompany her. Her first
confidence had stopped here. Now she broke all the seals of secrecy her
friend had imposed, and spoke freely.

Poor Jeanne Dessalle was more unhappy than ever. During her short visit
at Subiaco she had met her former lover. An exclamation from Giovanni!
Then it was Don Clemente, after all? No, it was the man who came to the
villa with the Padre the night of Jeanne's arrival, the under-gardener
from Santa Scolastica--he who was no longer at the monastery--of whom
all the valley of the Anio was talking, and who was known, even at Rome,
as the "Saint of Jenne." Noemi begged them to forgive her for not having
told them at the time. Woe to her if Jeanne had discovered her breach
of confidence, after her many admonitions. Besides it would have done no
good. Giovanni took his wife's hand almost stealthily, and raised it to
his lips, Maria understood, and smiled. Then both assailed Noemi with
questions.

Yes, Jeanne had recognised him the night of their arrival, and now
Maria and Giovanni could understand the reason of the faintness she had
experienced. Their meeting had taken place the following day at Sacro
Speco. Concerning the meeting Noemi knew only this much, that Jeanne's
hopes had been dashed to the ground, that he was clad as a monk, and
had spoken as one who has given himself to God for ever; that she had
promised him to dedicate her life to good works, and that no direct
correspondence between them was any longer possible.

Jeanne now wrote from Villa Diedo, the home in the Veneto where she had
gone with her brother from Rome, two days after leaving Subiaco. She
wrote in a moment of most bitter despondency. Her brother, surprised at
her devoting so much time to the poor, was irritated by this innovation
in her mode of thought and of life. She might give money, if she
pleased, and as much as she pleased, but to bring a string of beggars
into the house, to visit them in their hovels, that he would not allow!
It was foolish, it was a bore, it was ridiculous, it was eccentric, it
was clerical. There were other difficulties, She would have liked to
join the women's charitable associations of the town, but they drew
back, shrinking into themselves like sensitive plants at the touch of
this woman, who had been the subject of so much gossip on account of
Maironi, and who, though she did sometimes go to church of a Sunday, did
not fulfil her Easter duties. And finally her habits, w