of the
situation at court, and of the reason for his prolonged travels. As he
talked her eyes conveyed the exquisite sense of her complete
comprehension. She saw, before he could justify himself, how the
uncertainty of his future, and his inability to act, had cast him adrift
upon a life of superficial enjoyment; and how his latent dissatisfaction
with this life had inevitably resulted in self-distrust and vacillation.
"You wait your hour," she said of him; and he seized on the phrase as a
justification of his inactivity and, when chance should offer, a spur to
fresh endeavour. Her interest in the liberal cause had been intensified
and exalted by her father's death--his martyrdom, as she described it.
Like most women possessed of an abstract idea she had unconsciously
personified the idea and made a religion of it; but it was a religion of
charity and not of vindictiveness. "I should like my father's death
avenged by love and not by hate," she said; "I would have it bring
peace, not a sword."

On one point only she remained, if not hostile yet unresponsive. This
was when he spoke of de Crucis. Her manner hardened instantly, and he
perceived that, though he dwelt on the Jesuit's tolerant view and
cultivated tastes, she beheld only the priest and not the man. She had
been eager to hear of Crescenti, whom she knew by name as a student of
European repute, and to the praise of whose parochial charities she
listened with outspoken sympathy; but the Jesuits stood for the Holy
Office, and she had suffered too deeply at the hands of the Holy Office
to regard with an open mind any who might be supposed to represent its
principles. It was impossible for Odo to make her understand how
distinctly, in de Crucis's case, the man predominated over the order;
and conscious of the painfulness of the subject, he gave up the attempt
to interest her in his friend.

Three or four times he was permitted to visit her in her cell: after
that they met almost daily in the parlour, where, about the hour of
benediction, they could talk almost as privately under cover of the
general chatter. In due time Fulvia received an answer from the
Calvinist professor, who assured her of a welcome in Geneva and shelter
under his roof. Odo, meanwhile, had perfected the plan of their journey;
but as Michaelmas approached he began to fear Cantapresto's observation.
He now bitterly regretted that he had not held to his purpose of sending
the soprano back to Pianu