ered him, who
went by his comely proportions; and these gained the day, since his
beardless face and friar's frock induced the idea of innocence, which
Sebastian's virgin bloom also taught. The quality of his sermons did not
grow threadbare under this adventitious criticism: he kept a serene
front, lost no authority, nor failed of any unction. There was always a
file at his confessional; and at Corpus Christi, when in the pageant he
actually figured as Sebastian, his plump round limbs roped to a
pine-stock drew tears from all eyes.

Unhappily you have to pay for your successes. There were other preachers
in Verona, and other eloquent preachers who, being honest men, had had
to depend upon their eloquence. These were the enemy--Franciscans, of
course, and Dominicans--who got wind of something amiss, and began to
nose for a scandal. What they got gave them something besides eloquence
to lean on: there were now other sermons than young Fra Battista's, and
the moral his person pointed had a double edge. In fact, where he
pointed with his person, the Dominicans pointed with their sharp
tongues. The Franciscans, more homely, pointed with their fingers. Fra
Battista began to be notorious--a thing widely different from fame; he
also began to be uncomfortable, and his superior with him. They talked
it over in the cloister, walking up and down together in the cool of the
day. "It has an ugly look, my dear," said the provincial; "send the
young woman to me."

What of the young woman, meantime? Let me tell the truth: motherhood
became her so well that she was brazen from the very beginning. No
delicacy, no pretty shame, no shrinking--she gloried in the growing
fact. When she was brought to bed she made a quick recovery; she
insisted upon a devout churching, an elaborate christening of the
doubtful son (whereat, if you will believe me, no other than Fra
Battista himself must do the office!); thenceforth she was never seen
without her _bimbo_. While she worked it lay at her feet or across her
knee like a stout chrysalis; the breast was ever at its service, pillow
or fount; when it slept she lifted up a finger or her grave eyes at the
very passers-by; her lips moulded a "Hush!" at them lest they should
dare disturb her young lord's rest. The saucy jade! Was ever such
impudence in the world before? It drew her, too, to old Baldassare in a
remarkable way. This the neighbours--busy with sniffing--did not see.
She had always had a sense