ss, I hope."

"Not while I am alive, and I shall certainly resist to the end. It would
be much wiser of you to send me to a convent at once, than to count on
forcing me to go through the marriage ceremony."

Beroviero stared at her, and stroked his beard. He began to believe that
she might possibly be in earnest. Since she talked so quietly of going
to a convent, a fate which most girls considered the most terrible that
could be imagined. He bent his brows in thought, but watched her
steadily.

"You have not yet given me a single reason for all this wild talk," he
said after a pause. "It is absurd to think that without some good cause
you are suddenly filled with repulsion for marriage, or for Jacopo
Contarini. I have heard of young women who were betrothed, but who felt
a religious vocation, and refused to marry for that reason. It never
seemed a very satisfactory one to me, for if there is any condition in
which a woman needs religion, it is the marriage state."

He paused in his speech, pleased with his own idea, in spite of all his
troubles. Marietta had moved a few steps away from him and stood beside
the table, looking down at the things on it, without seeing them.

"But you do not even make religion a pretext," pursued her father. "Have
you no reason to give? I do not expect a good one, for none can have any
weight. But I should like to hear the best you have."

"It is a very convincing one to me," Marietta replied, still looking
down at the table. "But I think I had better not tell it to you to-day,"
she added. "It would make you angry."

"No," said Beroviero. "One cannot be angry with people who are really
out of their senses."

"I am not so mad as you think," answered the girl. "I have told you of
my decision, because it was cowardly of me not to tell you what I felt
before you went away. But it might be a mistake to tell you more to-day.
You have had enough to harass you already, since you came back."

"You are suddenly very considerate."

"No, I have not been considerate. I could not be, without acting a lie
to you, by letting you believe that I meant to marry Messer Jacopo, and
I will not do that any longer, since I know that it is a lie. But I
cannot see the use of saying anything more."

"You had better tell me the whole truth, rather than let me think
something that may be much worse," answered Beroviero, changing his
attitude.

"There is nothing in the truth of which I am ashamed," said Ma