rt.
And that traitor, Charles Albert! He will bear the curse of all future
ages. Can you learn particulars from Milan? I feel sad for our poor
friends there; how much they must suffer! * * * I shall be much more
tranquil to have you at my side, for it would be sad to die alone,
without the touch of one dear hand. Still, I repeat what I said in my
last; if duty prevents you from coming, I will endeavor to take
care of myself." Again, two days later, she says:--"I feel, love, a
profound sympathy with you, but am not able to give perfectly wise
counsel. It seems to me, indeed, the worst possible moment to take
up arms, except in the cause of duty, of honor; for, with the Pope
so cold, and his ministers so undecided, nothing can be well or
successfully done. If it is possible for you to wait for two or three
weeks, the public state will be determined,--as will also mine,--and
you can judge more calmly. Otherwise, it seems to me that I ought to
say nothing. Only, if you go, come here first. I must see you once
more. Adieu, dear. Our misfortunes are many and unlooked for. Not
often does destiny demand a greater price for some happy moments. Yet
never do I repent of our affection; and for thee, if not for me, I
hope that life has still some good in store. Once again, adieu! May
God give thee counsel and help, since they are not in the power of thy
affectionate Margherita."

On the 5th of September, Ossoli was "at her side," and together, with
glad and grateful hearts, they welcomed their boy; though the father
was compelled to return the next day to Rome. Even then, however, a
new chapter of sorrows was opening. By indiscreet treatment, Margaret
was thrown into violent fever, and became unable to nurse her child.
Her waiting maid, also, proved so treacherous, that she was forced to
dismiss her, and wished "never to set eyes on her more;" and the
family, with whom she was living, displayed most detestable meanness.
Thus helpless, ill, and solitary, she could not even now enjoy the
mother's privilege. Yet she writes cheerfully:--"My present nurse is a
very good one, and I feel relieved. We must have courage but it is a
great care, alone and ignorant, to guard an infant in its first days
of life. He is very pretty for his age; and, without knowing what name
I intended giving him, the people in the house call him _Angiolino_,
because he is so lovely." Again:--"He is so dear! It seems to me,
among all disasters and difficulties, t