atly provided for. Our second son has great prospects before him,
in the church: but you know he cannot marry. Poor Jeronymo! We had not,
before his misfortune, any great hopes of strengthening the family by his
means: he, alas! (as you well know, who took such laudable pains to
reclaim him, before we knew you,) with great qualities, imbibed free
notions from bad company, and declared himself a despiser of marriage.
This the two grandfathers knew, and often deplored; for Jeronymo and
Clementina were equally their favourites. To him and the bishop they
bequeathed great legacies.

We suspected not, till very lately, that Laurana was deeply in love with
the Count of Belvedere; and that her mother and she had views to drive
our sweet child into a convent, that Laurana might enjoy the estate;
which they hoped would be an inducement to the count to marry her. Cruel
Laurana! Cruel Lady Sforza! So much love as they both pretended to our
child; and, I believe, had, till the temptation, strengthened by power,
became too strong for them. Unhappy the day that we put her into their
hands.

Besides the estate so bequeathed to Clementina, we can do great things
for her: few Italian families are so rich as ours. Her brothers forget
their own interest, when it comes into competition with hers: she is as
generous as they. Our four children never knew what a contention was,
but who should give up an advantage to the other. This child, this sweet
child, was ever the delight of us all, and likewise of our brother the
Conte della Porretta. What joy would her recovery and nuptials give us!
--Dear creature! we have sometimes thought, that she is the fonder of the
sequestered life, as it is that which we wish her not to embrace.--But
can Clementina be perverse? She cannot. Yet that was the life of her
choice, when she had a choice, her grandfathers' wishes notwithstanding.

Will you now wonder, chevalier, that neither our sons nor we can allow
Clementina to take the veil? Can we so reward Laurana for her cruelty?
Especially now, that we suspect the motives for her barbarity? Could I
have thought that my sister Sforza--But what will not love and avarice
do, their powers united to compass the same end; the one reigning in the
bosom of the mother, the other in that of the daughter? Alas! alas! they
have, between them, broken the spirit of my Clementina. The very name of
Laurana gives her terror--So far is she sensible. But, O sir, her
sensibilit