, but who wishes to be amiable, he
will tell me that part of it is indeed firm and good, but that,
unfortunately, part of it is diseased, and therefore, though he much
regrets it, he cannot accept it. Thus this illustrious Protestant speaks
of Catholicism. But if I offer my apricot to one who knows, he will
accept it even if it be entirely rotten; and he will plant the immortal
seed in his own garden, in the hope of raising fine, healthy fruit."
These remarks he addressed to Giovanni, but his eyes sought mine
continually. I must add that at Jenne also, he told me to learn to
understand Catholicism. At any rate, if I remain a Protestant, it will
not be because I do or do not understand, but rather in obedience to my
most sacred feelings.

My dear Jeanne, there is something else I must tell you plainly. I
have a suspicion that you are jealous, I believe you do not realise the
inexpressible grief you would cause me, if this were really the case. I
fear you do not realise the immense gravity of the offence it would be,
first to him and then to me. Now I am going to open my heart to you. I
should reproach myself if I did not do so, dear friend, reproach myself
on your account, on his, and on my own. As to him, he is kind and gentle
to all with whom he comes in contact, especially to the humble, and you
might even be jealous of the old woman who comes from Subiaco to do the
rough work in the house. With Maria and myself he shows his kindness and
gentleness silently rather than in words. With us he is quiet, simple,
and affable; he does not appear to wish to avoid us, but it has never
happened that he has remained alone with either of us. In his eyes I
am a soul, and souls are to him exactly what the tiniest plants in my
father's great garden were to him; he would have liked to protect them
from frost with the warmth of his own heart, and make then grow and
flower by communicating his own vitality to them. But I am a soul like
any other soul, the only difference perhaps being, that he deems me
further removed from the truth, and consequently more exposed to frost.
But this is not apparent in his bearing.

As to myself, dearest, I certainly have a deep feeling for him, but it
would be abominable to say that this feeling in the least resembles what
men call by the familiar name. This sentiment is one of reverence, of
a kind of devout fear, of awe; I feel his person is surrounded by
something like a magic circle, into which I sh