heart thus
to be compelled to meet her brother secretly, as if he were a common
robber or a midnight bravo; but for her husband's peace, and in
obedience to the spirit of the oath which imperious circumstances had
alone led her in some degree to violate, she was forced to adopt that
sad and humiliating alternative."

"Alas! poor mother!" sobbed Francisco, deeply affected by this
narrative.

"Again did five years elapse without bringing tidings to our mother of
Eugenio," continued Nisida, "and then he once more set foot in Florence.
The world bad not used him well--Fortune had frowned upon him--and,
though a young man of fine spirit and noble disposition, he failed in
all his endeavors to carve out a successful career for himself. Our
mother determined to accord him an interview in her own apartment. She
longed to converse with him at her ease--to hear his tale from his own
lips--to sympathize with and console him. Oh! who could blame her if in
so doing she departed from the strict and literal meaning of that vow
which had bound her to consider her relations as dead to her? But the
fault--if fault it were--was so venial, that to justify it is to invest
it with an importance which it would not have possessed save for the
frightful results to which it led. You have already heard how foully he
was waylaid, how ruthlessly he was murdered! Holy Virgin! my brain
whirls when I reflect upon that hideous cruelty which made our mother
the spectator of his dissection; for, even had he been a lover--even
were she guilty--even if the suspicions of our father had all been
well-founded----"

"Dwell not upon this frightful topic, my beloved Nisida!" exclaimed
Francisco, perceiving that she was again becoming greatly excited, for
her eyes dilated and glared wildly, her bosom heaved in awful
convulsions, and she tossed her arms frantically about.

"No, I will not--I dare not pause to ponder thereon," she said, falling
back upon the pillow, and pressing her hands to that proud and haughty
brow behind which the active, racking brain appeared to be on fire.

"Tranquilize yourself, dearest sister," murmured Flora, bending over the
couch and pressing her lips on Nisida's burning cheek.

"I will, I will, Flora, whom I now love as much as I once hated!"
exclaimed the dying lady. "But let me make an end of my explanations.
You already know that our dear mother was gagged when she was compelled
to witness the horrible deeds enacted in the