is ample desires to his scant means, he was credulous concerning
the alleged good fortune of other ignorant purchasers, and often allowed
himself to be influenced by them, to be blinded and led into buying
certain dirty rags, which, if they cost little, were worth still less.
The only passably good things he possessed were a head, in the style of
Morone, and a Madonna and Child, after the manner of Carlo Dolci.
Franco, however, baptised these two little pictures with the names of
Morone and Carlo Dolci, without further qualification.

When he had re-read and enjoyed some lines inspired by the hypocritical
Pasotti, he once more hunted in the chaos of his desk, and drew forth a
small sheet of notepaper, upon which he intended to write to Monsignor
Benaglia, the only person who, in the future, might be able to influence
his grandmother in his favour. He felt it his duty to inform him of the
step he was about to take, of the reasons which had forced his fiancee
and himself to resort to this painful subterfuge, of the hope they
cherished that he would help them when the time came to confess all to
the Marchesa. He was still reflecting, pen in hand, when the Carabellis'
boat passed beneath his window. Soon after he heard the Marchese's
gondola glide by, followed presently by Pin's boat. He expected that his
grandmother would send for him, now that she was alone, but she did not
do so. He waited some time, expecting to be summoned, then he began to
think of his letter again, and reflected so long, re-wrote the
introduction so many times, and got on so slowly, that before he had
finished he was obliged to light the lamp.

The end was easier. He begged the old Bishop's prayers for his Luisa and
for himself, and expressed a faith in God so perfect and so pure, that
the most unbelieving heart must have been touched by it.

Fiery and impetuous as he was, still Franco possessed the calm and
simple faith of a little child. Entirely free from pride, a stranger to
philosophical meditations, he was ignorant of that thirst for
intellectual liberty which torments young men, when their senses begin
to find themselves hampered by that strong curb--positive beliefs. He
had never for an instant doubted his religion, and performed all the
duties it prescribed without once asking himself if it be reasonable to
act and believe thus. Still he had nothing of the mystic or of the
ascetic. His intellect, though ardent and poetic, was, at the same t